THE BAPTISM OF BLOOD.
On the afternoon of June 10, 1861, Richmond was thrown into a
commotion--though of a different nature--hardly exceeded by that
exciting Sabbath, "Pawnee Sunday." Jubilant, but agitated crowds
collected at the telegraph offices, the hotels and the doors of the War
Department, to get the news of the first fight on Virginia soil.
That morning the enemy had pressed boldly forward, in three heavy
columns, against Magruder's lines at Big Bethel Church. He had been
sharply repulsed in several distinct charges, with heavy loss, by D. H.
Hill's regiment--the first North Carolina, and two guns of the Richmond
Howitzers, commanded by Major John W. Randolph--afterward Secretary of
War.
Naturally there was great and deep rejoicing over this news in all
quarters and from all classes. None had expected a different general
result; for the confidence in Magruder's ability at that time, and in
the pluck of his troops, was perfect; but the ease and dash with which
the victory had been achieved was looked upon as the sure presage of
great success elsewhere.
Although the conduct of the fight had been in the hands of Colonel D.
H. Hill--afterward so well known as a staunch and hard fighting
officer--and his North Carolinians had illustrated it by more than one
act of personal daring; still the cannon had done the main work and it
was taken as a Richmond victory.
The small loss, too, where the home people had been so deeply
interested, added a cheering glow to the news that nothing else could
have given. Bowed and venerable men, little girls and tremulous old
women spoke of the fight "we won." And why not? Were not their sons,
and husbands, and brothers, really a part of them?
It was curious to see how prone the women were to attribute the result
to a special interposition of Divine aid, and to share the laurels,
gathered that bright June day, with a higher Power than rested in a
Springfield rifle, or a 12-pr. howitzer.
"Don't you tell me one word, cap'n!" I heard an old lady exclaim in
great ire, at the door of the War Department, "Provi-_dence_ is
a-fightin' our battles for us! The Lord _is_ with us, and thar's his
handwritin'--_jest as plain!_"
"Don't say nothin' agin' that, marm," answered the western captain,
with Cromwellian sagacity; "but ef we don't help Providence powerful
hard we ain't agoin' ter win!"
There was a perfect atmosphere of triumph all over the state. Troops
lying in camp began to get restless and eager to go at once--even
half-prepared as many of them were--to the front. Perfect confidence in
the ability of the South to beat back any advance had been before the
too prevalent idea of army and people; and the ease of the victory
added to this conviction a glow of exultation over the invincibility of
the southern soldier.
But the confidence begotten by the result had, as yet, a beneficial
rather than a bad effect. Enlistments were stimulated and camps of
instruction vied with each other in energy of preparation and close
attention to drill. Every soldier felt that the struggle might be
fierce, but would certainly be short; and the meanest private panted to
have his share in the triumphant work while there was yet a chance. The
women worked harder than ever; and at every sewing-circle the story of
the fight was retold with many a glowing touch added by skillful
narration. And while soft eyes flashed and delicate cheeks glowed at
the music of the recital, needles glanced quicker still through the
tough fabric for those "dear boys!"
Along the other army lines, the news from Magruder's inspired the men
with a wild desire to dash forward and have their turn, before the
whole crop of early laurels was gathered. An aide on General
Beauregard's staff came down from Manassas a few days after Bethel, in
charge of prisoners; and he told me that the men had been in a state of
nervous excitement for an advance before, but now were so wild over the
news, it was hard to restrain them from advancing of their own accord.
The clear-headed generals in command, however, looked over the flash
and glitter of the first success, to the sterner realities beyond; and
they drew the bands of discipline only tighter--and administered the
wholesome tonic of regular drill--the nearer they saw the approach of
real work.
The Government, too, hailed the success at Bethel as an omen of the
future; but rather that it tested the spirit of the troops and their
ability to stand fire, than from any solid fruits of the fight. They
understood that it was scarcely a check to the great advance to be
made; and though perhaps not "only a reconnaissance that accomplished
its intention," as the Federal officers declared, it was yet only the
result of such a movement. True, eighteen hundred raw troops, never
under fire, had met more than double their number and fought steadily
and well from nine o'clock till two; and had, besides, accomplished
this with the insignificant loss of _one_ killed and seven wounded!
But this was not yet the test that was to try how fit they were to
fight for the principles for which they had so promptly flown to arms.
The great shock was to come in far different form; and every nerve was
strained to meet the issue when made.
The Ordnance Department had been organized, and already brought to a
point of efficiency, by Major Gorgas--a resigned officer of the United
States Artillery; and it was ably seconded by the Tredegar Works. All
night long the dwellers on Gamble's Hill saw their furnaces shine with
a steady glow, and the tall chimneys belch out clouds of dense,
luminous smoke into the night. At almost any hour of the day, Mr.
Tanner's well-known black horses could be seen at the door of the War
Department, or dashing thence to the foundry, or one of the depots. As
consequence of this energy and industry, huge trains of heavy guns, and
improved ordnance of every kind, were shipped off to the threatened
points, almost daily, to the full capacity of limited rolling stock on
the roads. The new regiments were rapidly armed; their old-style
muskets exchanged for better ones, to be in their turn put through the
improving Tredegar process. Battery equipments, harness works,
forges--in fact, all requirements for the service--were at once put in
operation under the working order and system introduced into the
bureaux. The efficiency of the southern artillery--until paralyzed by
the breaking down of its horses--is sufficient proof how this branch
was conducted.
The Medical Department--to play so important and needful a part in the
coming days of blood--was now thoroughly reorganized and placed on
really efficient footing. Surgeons of all ages--some of first force and
of highest reputation in the South--left home and practice, to seek and
receive positions under it. These, on passing examination and receiving
commission, were sent to points where most needed, with full
instructions to prepare to the utmost for the comfort of the sick and
wounded. Medicines, instruments, stretchers and supplies of all sorts
were freely sent to the purveyors in the field--where possible,
appointed from experienced surgeons of the old service; while the
principal hospitals and depots in Richmond were put in perfect order to
receive their expected tenants, under the personal supervision of the
Surgeon-General.
The Quartermaster's Department, both for railroad transportation and
field service, underwent a radical change, as experience of the early
campaign pointed out its imperfections. This department is the life of
the army--the supplies of every description must be received through
its hands. Efficiently directed, it can contribute to the most
brilliant results, and badly handled, can thwart the most perfectly
matured plans of genius, or generalship.
Colonel A. C. Myers, who was early made Acting Quartermaster-General,
had the benefit of the assistance and advice of an able corps of
subordinates--both from the old service and from the active business
men of the South; and, whatever may have been its later abuses, at this
time the bureau was managed with an efficiency and vigor that could
scarcely have been looked for in so new an organization.
The Commissariat alone was badly managed from its very inception.
Murmurs loud and deep arose from every quarter against its numerous
errors and abuses; and the sagacity of Mr. Davis--so entirely approved
elsewhere--was in this case more than doubted. Colonel Northrop had
been an officer of cavalry, but for many years had been on a quasi
sick-leave, away from all connection with any branch of the army--save,
perhaps, the paymaster's office. The reason for his appointment to,
perhaps, the most responsible bureau of the War Department was a
mystery to people everywhere.
Suddenly the news from Rich Mountain came. It fell like a thunderbolt
from the summer sky, that the people deluded themselves was to sail
over them with never a cloud! The flood-tide of success, upon which
they had been floating so gaily, was suddenly dammed and flowed back
upon them in surges of sullen gloom.
The southern masses are essentially mercurial and are more given to
sudden extremes of hope and despondency than any people in the
world--except, perhaps, the French. Any event in which they are
interested can, by a partial success, carry them up to a glowing
enthusiasm, or depress them to zero by its approach to failure. The
buzz and stir of preparation, the constant exertion attending it and
their absorbing interest in the cause, had all prepared the people,
more than ordinarily even, for one of these barometric shiftings. The
news from Bethel had made them almost wild with joy and caused an
excessive elation that could ill bear a shock. The misfortune at Rich
Mountain threw a corresponding gloom over the whole face of affairs;
and, as the success at Bethel had been overrated from the Potomac to
the Gulf, so this defeat was deemed of more serious importance than it
really was.
This feeling in Richmond was much aggravated by her own peculiar loss.
Some of her best men had been in the fight, and all that could be
learned of them was that they were scattered, or shot. Garnett was
dead; the gallant DeLagnel was shot down fighting to the last; and
Pegram was a prisoner--the gallant regiment he led cut up and
dispersed!
Only a few days before, a crowd of the fairest and most honored that
Richmond could boast had assembled at the depot to bid them God speed!
Crowds of fellow soldiers had clustered round them, hard hands had
clasped theirs--while bright smiles of cheer broke through the tears on
softest cheeks; and, as the train whirled off and the banner that
tender hands had worked--with a feeling "passing the love of
woman"--waved over them, wreathed with flowers, not a heart was in the
throng but beat high with anticipation of brave deed and brilliant
victory following its folds.
Scarcely had these flowers withered when the regiment--shattered and
beaten--was borne down by numbers, and the flag itself sullied and torn
by the tramp of its conquerors. And the shame of defeat was much
heightened to these good people, by the agonies of suspense as to the
fate of their loved ones. It was three days after the news of the
disaster reached the War Department before the death of Garnett was a
certainty; and longer time still elapsed ere the minor casualties were
known. When they did come, weeping sounded through many a Virginia home
for its stay, or its darling, stark on the distant battle-field, or
carried into captivity.
The details of the fight were generally and warmly discussed, but with
much more of feeling than of knowledge of their real bearings. Public
opinion fixed the result decidedly as the consequence of want of skill
and judgment, in dividing the brigade at a critical moment. There was a
balm in the reflection, however, that though broken and beaten, the men
had fought well in the face of heavy odds; and that their officers had
striven by every effort of manhood to hold them to their duty. General
Garnett had exposed himself constantly, and was killed by a
sharp-shooter at Carrock's Ford--over which he had brought the remnant
of his army by a masterly retreat--while holding the stream at the head
of a small squad. Pegram fought with gallantry and determination. He
felt the position untenable and had remonstrated against holding it;
yet the admirable disposition of his few troops, and the skill and
courage with which he had managed them, had cost the enemy many a man
before the mountain was won. Captured and bruised by the fall of his
horse, he refused to surrender his sword until an officer, his equal in
rank, should demand it. DeLagnel cheered his men till they fell between
the guns they could no longer work; then seized the rammer himself and
loaded the piece till he, too, was shot down. Wounded, he still fought
with his pistol, till a bayonet thrust stretched him senseless.
These brilliant episodes illustrated the gloomy story of the defeat;
but it still caused very deep and general depression. This was only
partly relieved by the news that followed so closely upon it, of the
brilliant success of General Price's army at Carthage. Missouri was so
far away that the loudest shouts of victory there could echo but dimly
in the ears at Richmond, already dulled by Rich Mountain. Still, it
checked the blue mood of the public to some extent; and the Government
saw in it much more encouragement than the people.
There had been much doubt among the southern leaders as to the _materiel_
of the western armies, on both sides. Old and tried officers felt
secure, _ceteris paribus_, of success against the northern troops of
the coast, or Middle States; but the hardy hunters from the West and
North-west were men of a very different stamp. The resources of the
whole country had been strained to send into Virginia such an army in
numbers and equipment as the preparation for invasion of her borders
seemed to warrant. This had left the South and South-west rather more
thinly garrisoned than all deemed prudent. The grounds for security in
Virginia were that the mass of the southern troops were thoroughly
accustomed to the use of arms and perfectly at home on horseback; and
no doubts were felt that the men of the North-eastern States, there
opposed to them, were far below them in both requirements. The superior
excellence of the latter in arms, equipment, and perhaps discipline,
was more than compensated to the former by their greater familiarity
with the arms they carried and their superiority of physique and
endurance. Any advantage of numbers, it was argued, was made up by the
fact of the invading army being forced to fight on the ground chosen by
the invaded; and in the excellence of her tacticians, rather more than
in any expected equality of numbers, the main reliance of the southern
government was placed. Hence it was full of confidence as to the result
in the East.
In the West, it was far different. There the armies of the United
States were recruited from the hardy trappers and frontiersmen of the
border; from the sturdy yeomen of the inland farms; and, in many
instances, whole districts had separated, and men from adjoining farms
had gone to join in a deadly fight, in opposing ranks. Though the
partisan spirit with these was stronger than with other southern
troops--for they added the bitterness of personal hate to the sectional
feeling--yet thinking people felt that the men themselves were more
equally matched in courage, endurance and the knowledge of arms.
It is an old axiom in war, that when the _personnel_ of armies is
equal, victory is apt to rest with numbers. In the West, the United
States not only had the numbers in their favor, but they were better
equipped in every way; and the only hope of the South was in the
superiority of its generals in strategic ability.
Thus, the fight at Carthage was viewed by the Government as a test
question of deep meaning; and Sterling Price began at once to rank as a
rising man. The general gloom through the country began to wear off,
but that feeling of overweening confidence, in which the people had so
universally indulged, was much shaken; and it was with some misgivings
as to the perfect certainty of success that they began to look upon the
tremendous preparations for the Virginia campaign, to which the North
was bending its every effort, under the personal supervision of General
Scott. The bitterness that the mass of the people of the
South--especially in Virginia--felt against that officer did not affect
their exalted opinion of his vast grasp of mind and great military
science. The people, as a body, seldom reason deeply upon such points;
and it would probably have been hard to find out why it was so; but the
majority of his fellow-statesmen certainly feared and hated "the
general" in about an equal degree. It was a good thing for the South
that this was the case; and that the mighty "On to Richmond!"--the
clang of which was resounding to the farthest limits of the North and
sending its threatening echoes over the Potomac--was recognized by them
as a serious and determined attempt upon the new Capital.
Every fresh mail, through "the blockade," brought more and more
astounding intelligence of these vast preparations. Every fresh cap
that was exploded, every new flag that was broidered, was duly
chronicled by the rabid press. The editors of the North seemed to have
gone military mad; and when they did not dictate plans of battles,
lecture their government and bully its generals, they told wondrous
stories of an army that Xerxes might have gaped to see.
All the newspaper bombast could easily be sifted, however; and private
letters from reliable sources of intelligence over the Potomac all
agreed as to the vast scale and perfection of arrangement of the onward
movement. The public pulse in the South had settled again to a steady
and regular beat; but it visibly quickened as the time of trial
approached.
And that time could not be long delayed!
The army of Virginia was in great spirits. Each change of
position--every fresh disposition of troops--told them that their
leaders expected a fight at any moment; and they panted for it and
chafed under the necessary restraints of discipline, like hounds in the
leash.
When General Johnston took command of the "Army of the Shenandoah" at
Harper's Ferry, he at once saw that with the small force at his command
the position was untenable. To hold it, the heights on both sides of
the river commanding it would have to be fortified, and a clear line of
communication maintained with his base.
General McClellan, with a force equal to his, was hovering about Romney
and the upper Valley, ready at any moment to swoop down upon his flank
and make a junction with Patterson, who was in his front, thus crushing
him between them. Patterson was threatening Winchester, at which point
he would be able to cut Johnston's supplies and at the same time effect
his desired junction with McClellan.
To prevent this, about the middle of June, General Johnston evacuated
Harper's Ferry, destroying the magazines and a vast amount of property,
and fell back to Winchester. Then, for one month, Patterson and he
played at military chess, on a field ranging from Winchester to
Martinsburg, without advantage on either side. At the end of that
time--on the 15th of July--the former made his grand feint of an
advance, which Colonel Jeb Stuart--who was scouting in his
front--declared to be a real movement; warning General Johnston that
the blow was at last to fall in earnest. This warning the clear-headed
and subtle tactician took in such part, that he at once prepared to
dispatch his whole force to Manassas to join Beauregard. Well did
General Scott say, "Beware of Johnston's retreats;" for--whatever the
country may have thought of it at the time--the retreat from Harper's
Ferry culminated in the battle of Manassas!
Meanwhile, in Richmond the excitement steadily rose, but the work of
strengthening the defenses went steadily on. Fresh troops arrived
daily--from the South by cars--from the West by railroad and canal; and
from the country around Richmond they marched in. Rumors of the wildest
and most varied sort could be heard at any hour. Now Magruder had
gained a terrible victory at Big Bethel, and had strewn the ground for
miles with the slain and spoils! Then Johnston had met the enemy at
Winchester and, after oceans of blood, had driven him from the field in
utter rout! Again Beauregard had cut McDowell to pieces and planted the
stars-and-bars over Alexandria and Arlington Heights! Such was the
morbid state of the public mind that any rumor, however fanciful,
received some credit.
Each night some regiments broke camp noiselessly and filed through the
streets like the army of specters that
"Beleaguered the walls of Prague,"
to fill a train on the Central, or Fredericksburg road, _en route_ for
Manassas. Constantly, at gray dawn the dull, rumbling sound, cut
sharply by the clear note of the bugle, told of moving batteries; and
the tramp of cavalry became so accustomed a sound, that people scarcely
left their work even to cheer the wild and rugged-looking horsemen
passing by.
Then it began to be understood, all over the country, that the great
advance would be over the Potomac; that the first decisive battle would
be joined by the Army of the Shenandoah, or that of Manassas.
A hushed, feverish suspense--like the sultry stillness before the burst
of the storm-brooded over the land, shared alike by the people and
government.
My old friend--the colonel of the "Ranche" and "Zouave" memory--was
stationed at Richmond headquarters. Many were the tribulations that
sorely beset the soul of that old soldier and clubman. He had served so
long with regulars that he could not get accustomed to the
irregularities of the "mustangs," as he called the volunteers; many
were the culinary grievances of which he relieved his rotund breast to
me; and numerous were the early bits of news he confidentially dropped
into my ear, before they were known elsewhere.
The evening of the 18th of July--hot, sultry and threatening rain--had
been more quiet than usual. Not a rumor had been set afloat; and the
monotony was only broken by a group of officers about the "Spotswood"
discussing Bethel, Rich Mountain and the chances of the next fight. One
of them, with three stars on his collar, had just declared his
conviction:
"It's only a feint, major! McDowell is too old a soldier to risk a
fight on the Potomac line--too far from his base, sir! He'll amuse
Beauregard and Johnston while they sweep down on Magruder. I want _my_
orders for Yorktown. Mark my words! What is it, adjutant?" The colonel
talked on as he opened and read a paper the lieutenant handed
him--"Hello! Adjutant, read that! Boys, I'm off for Manassas to-night.
Turning my back on a fight, by ----!"
Just then I felt a hand on my shoulder; and turning, saw my colonel
with his round face--graver than usual--near mine. The thought of some
devilish invention in the pudding line flashed across me, but his first
word put cooks and dinners out of my mind.
"The ball's open, egad!" he said seriously. "We whipped McDowell's
advance at Bull Run to-day, sir! Drove 'em back, sir! Did you hear that
_mustang_ colonel? Turning his back on a fight! Egad, he'll turn his
stomach on it before the week's out!"
It was true. How McDowell's right had essayed to cross at Blackburn's
Ford; how Longstreet's Virginians and the Washington Artillery met
them; and how, after a sharp fight, they retired and gave up the ford
is too well known history to be repeated here.
In an hour the news was public in Richmond and--though received with a
deep, grave joy--braced every nerve and steadied every pulse in it.
There was no distaste to face the _real_ danger when it showed itself;
it was only the sickening suspense that was unbearable. No one in the
city had really doubted the result, from the first; and the news from
the prelude to the terrible and decisive fight, yet to come, but braced
the people, as a stimulant may the fevered patient.
The heavy pattering of the first drops had come, and the strained hush
was broken.
Beauregard telegraphed that the success of Bull Run was complete; that
his men had borne their baptism of fire, with the steadiness of
veterans; and that a few days--hours, perhaps--must bring the general
assault upon his lines.
He urged that every available man should be sent him; and within
twenty-four hours from the receipt of his despatch, there was not a
company left in Richmond that had arms to carry him.
Surgeons were sent up; volunteer doctors applied by dozens for
permission to go; ambulance trains were put upon the road, in readiness
at a moment's warning. Baskets of delicacies and rare old wines and
pure liquors; great bundles of bandages and lint, prepared by the
daintiest fingers in the "Old Dominion;" cots, mattresses and
pillows--all crowded in at the medical purveyor's. Then Richmond,
having done all she could for the present, drew a deep breath and
waited.
But she waited not unhopefully!
Every eye was strained to Manassas plains; every heart throbbed
stronger at the mention of that name. All knew that there the giants
were soon to clinch in deadly wrestle for the mastery; that the
struggle was now at hand, when the flag of the South would be carried
high in triumph or trampled in the dust!
But no one doubted the true hearts and firm hands that had gathered
there to uphold that banner!
No one doubted that, though the best blood of the South might redden
its folds, it would still float proudly over the field--consecrated,
but unstained!