earth sweetly as they had done the night before, when the valley was
fresh with verdure and beautiful with thrifty crops. But the scene it
presented was O, how different! In mercy the deep shadows cast by the
woods concealed its worst features, and the smoke had risen so densely
between earth and sky that the moon looked down upon it mournfully,
through a veil. The battle-field was still, save when the solemn shiver
of the leaves came like a painful and mighty sigh, or the troubled waves
of the Run continued it in hoarser murmurs. If human moans broke the
stillness, they were lost on that vast field, and only heard by the
pitying angels.
But solitary lights wandered over the field, like stars dropped by a
merciful heaven to light the departing souls through the valley and
shadow of death. They were indeed heavenly rays, for all that is divine
in human mercy sent them forth. Kind men, and more than one heroic woman
carried them from point to point over that dreary battle-field,
searching among the dead for those who, breathing yet, might suffer for
water or Christian comfort.
There was a house on the hill-top where Griffin’s battery had stood, and
where the Connecticut troops had planted the stars and stripes in their
last desperate charge. Through all the fight, a helpless and frightened
family had found precarious shelter in their own dwelling. The household
was composed of a son, a daughter, and the mother, a gentle Christian
woman, who had been confined to her bed for years. There was no hopes of
flight for her, poor soul, and neither son nor daughter would abandon
her when the storm of battle was at their threshold. Hoping to find a
place of safety, the devoted children carried her to a neighboring
ravine, sheltering her with their own persons.
But this spot became at last more dangerous than the house. So the
harassed children took their parent back to her home, and placing her in
bed again, stood to screen her from the bullets that broke like hail
through the walls and windows. While her house was riddled with cannon
balls and musket shot, and the missiles of death plunged through her
chamber and into her bed, three bullets pierced her frail person. Still
she outlived the battle tempest that raged around her, a tempest that
she had not even dreamed of approaching her dwelling when that fatal day
dawned upon it. When the night came on she died peacefully, and the
troubled moon looked down on a mournful scene here also. Within the
riddled walls and under the torn roof, this gentle woman lay, in a
quieter sleep than she had known for many a long night, and by her bed
knelt the bereaved children who had dared so much, weeping that a life
so peaceful should have met that violent ending. Painful as this was,
there lay many poor soldiers on the field that hour, whose children
would never have the privilege of weeping over them.
In an orchard of young trees, just forming their fruit, lay many a
prostrate Southron, sent to his long account; for the enemy had suffered
terribly there. The northern verge of the field was blackened by a fine
grove in which a Georgia regiment had fought, and under its black
shadows the dead lay thick and numerous. Here Lamar had fallen, and many
a brave Northman slept side by side with the foe he had sent into
eternity but a moment in advance of himself. The fatal hill, scorched
and blackened in every tree and blade of grass, was strewn with the dead
of both sections, among them some of the bravest leaders that the enemy
boasted.
There have been rumors of great cruelty on the battle-field after the
fight was over—of men prowling like fiends among the dead, and murdering
the wounded; but these things should be thrice proven before we believe
them of American citizens. Rumor is always triple-tongued, and human
nature does not become demoniac in a single hour. One thing is certain,
many an act of merciful kindness was performed that night, which an
honest pen should prefer to record. Certain it is that Southern soldiers
in many instances shared their water—the most precious thing they
had—with the wounded Union men. A soldier passing over the field found
two wounded combatants lying together—one was a New Yorker, the other a
Georgian. The poor wounded fellow from New York cried out piteously for
water, and the Georgian, gathering up his strength, called out: “For
God’s sake give him drink; for I called on a New York man for water when
his column was in retreat, and he ran to the trench at the risk of his
life and brought it to me!”
One brave young enemy lost his life after passing through all the perils
of the battle, in attempting to procure drink for his wounded foes.
If there were individual instances of cruelty on either side, and this
is possible—let us remember that there was kindness too; and when the
day shall come—God grant it may be quickly—when we are one people again,
let the cruelty be forgiven and the kindness only remembered.
And now our record of the battle of Bull Run is at an end. It was
valiantly contended on both sides, and won only from superior numbers
and reinforcements of fresh troops, poured upon the exhausted soldiery
of the Union. To gain this contest the South sent her best and very
bravest generals. Her forces were led by Beauregard and Johnston, both
experienced officers. They were also cheered by the near presence of
Jefferson Davis, who came upon the field when the victory was assured,
amid the shouts of a soldiery, the more enthusiastic because they had
just been rescued from almost certain defeat. They had the choice of
position and had fortified it with wonderful skill; a thorough knowledge
of the country, and troops unwearied by long marches—indeed, the
advantages were altogether on their side. The North, never dreaming that
an open rebellion would break out, was utterly dependant on
undisciplined troops; while the South, having premeditated resistance to
the Government, had been drilling men for months, if not years. There
was no one point except in the actual bravery of their leaders and
soldiers in which the enemy was not superior to the Union forces. In
personal valor the Southerners themselves have never claimed to surpass
that exhibited in this battle by their foes.
The smallest estimate of the forces actually engaged on the Southern
side is eighteen thousand—while the Union forces which crossed Bull Run
did not at any time count more than thirteen thousand. One brigade of
McDowell’s eighteen thousand was not in the action, except in a vain
effort to check the retreat. This brigade, of General Tyler’s division,
was stationed at Stone Bridge, and never advanced upon the actual
battle-field. The attack repulsed by Davies on the left wing, at
Blackburn’s Ford, took place nearly two hours after the army was in
retreat.
In the loss of officers, the enemy was even more unfortunate than the
Union army. The fall of General Bee, one of the bravest of their
leaders, Bartow, Colonel Thomas, Colonel Hampton, Colonel Johnson,
Lamar, and others, shed a gloom upon their victory, and greatly weakened
their cause in the future. The Union loss was heavy, for the men who
fell or were taken prisoners were among the bravest that marched with
the army, but the loss of officers by death was inferior to that of the
enemy, and though Corcoran and Wilcox were wounded and taken prisoners,
they were not lost to their country. In ordnance and munitions of war
the conquest was less important than might have been supposed. Many of
the Union guns were rescued from the field during the next day. Of the
fine horses attached to the ordnance a large proportion were killed, and
others were saved by their drivers, who cut the traces, and rode them
from the scene of battle. The loss in killed and wounded on the Union
side, was 481 killed, 1,011 wounded, and 1,216 missing: total, 2,708.
That of the enemy numbered, by Beauregard’s report, 393 killed, 1,200
wounded.
The victory was a very important one to the South, as it gave prestige
and force to a rebellion which, had the position of things been
reversed, would, it is probable, have expired before the year went out.
But in the North it only served to arouse the people to a pitch of
excitement hitherto unparalleled; if troops had been sent forth in
regiments before, they came in brigades after that defeat.
[Illustration: Winfield Scott, Lieut. Genl.]
WESTERN VIRGINIA.
Virginia has three grand divisions, viz.: the Eastern Section, extending
from tide-water up to the Blue Ridge Mountains; the Great Valley between
the Blue Ridge and the Alleghanies; Western Virginia, stretching from
the Great Valley to the Ohio river.
The contest between the people of the eastern and western portions of
the State for supremacy had been one of long duration, dating back for
many years. Internal improvements appear to have been the cause of this
dissension—Western Virginia claiming that the East had enjoyed and been
benefitted by them hitherto exclusively. In this jealousy the
inhabitants of the Valley sympathized, and the completion of the James
River and Kanawha Canal to the Ohio aroused a feeling of such bitter
rivalry, that even the Governor favored the project of a division of the
State. Added to this was the complaint of unequal taxation. The eastern
portion being the large slaveholding district, paid _per capita_,
without regard to value, while the wealth of the western, consisting of
land and stock, was taxed _ad valorem_. This strife, of necessity, was
carried from the people into the Legislature, and stormy debates
followed. The feeling of the West on the slavery question, also, added
fuel to the flame, and the loyalty of that section was attacked.
In the State Convention which passed the ordinance of secession, the
western delegates took a firm and bold stand against it. When the Act
was about to be consummated, great excitement prevailed in regard to the
action of the western members, both inside and out of the Convention,
and some of them were obliged to leave Richmond. In May, when the
ordinance was submitted to the people, the north-western counties voted
largely against it.
A Convention assembled at Wheeling, and a committee was appointed, which
called a General Convention to convene at the same place on the 11th of
June. Forty counties were represented there, and an ordinance was passed
for the reorganization of the State Government, every officer to be
obliged to swear allegiance anew to the United States, and to repudiate
the Richmond Convention. A Governor, Lieutenant-Governor, and other
State officers were elected, and the Legislature was summoned “to
assemble at the United States District Courtroom in the city of
Wheeling, at noon, on the first day of July, 1861.” Both houses met and
organized. The Governor’s Message was sent intogether with a document
from Washington, officially recognizing the new Government. The message
recommended an energetic co-operation with the Federal Government.
United States Senators were then elected.
On the 20th of August, the Convention passed an ordinance creating a new
State, to be called “Kanawha.” It included thirty-nine counties, and
provision was made for the admission of other adjoining counties, if a
majority of the people of each desired it. The question of forming a
separate State was submitted to the popular vote on the 24th of October,
and resulted in favor of the proposition by a large majority. Since that
time other counties have signified a desire to be admitted.
Western Virginia became the scene of military operations directly after
the war broke out, following in close order upon the occupation of
Alexandria. On the 30th of May Colonel Kelly took possession of Grafton,
and the occupation of Phillipi followed but a few days subsequently.
Federal troops also crossed the Ohio and entered Parkersburgh. General
McClellan had command of this portion of the State, it being included in
the Ohio district, and issued his proclamation to the Union men of
Virginia.
A series of offensive and defensive events now followed each other in
rapid succession, exhibiting bravery and determination unparalleled in
history—individual heroism and uncomplaining endurance of
suffering—rapid marches and brilliant charges, that shine in letters of
fire upon the pages of our war history, and threw the prestige of early
victory about the northern arms. It was here that McClellan won his
first laurels—here that chivalric Lander met a soldier’s death—here that
Kelly was wounded, till for weeks and weeks his life was despaired of.
In fact, Western Virginia is covered with victorious Union
battle-fields. She has indeed given their greenest laurels to many of
our generals.
The military department of Ohio, in which Western Virginia was included,
was organized on the tenth of May, and Major-General George B. McClellan
appointed to the command. His headquarters were at Cincinnati. On the
26th of the same month he issued his first proclamation, declaring that
his mission was one of fraternity, union, and protection, and called
upon all patriotic men to aid him in his endeavors to accomplish this
holy purpose. The proclamation produced a marked effect. Colonel Kelly,
of Wheeling, Virginia, had prior to that date organized a regiment for
the defence of the Union, known as the “First Virginia Volunteers.”
On Friday, the 24th of May, about twelve hundred rebels had assembled
and marched from Harper’s Ferry to Grafton, a town on the Baltimore and
Ohio railroad, and forced many citizens to abandon their homes and fly
for safety, leaving their property to be pillaged by the enemy. About
one hundred of the fugitives reached Morgantown. The inhabitants of that
place, warned of their danger, immediately flew to arms and prepared for
a vigorous defence. Finding that they were not to be molested, and
burning for revenge, they marched, 1000 strong—their ranks having been
swelled by friends from Pennsylvania—towards Grafton.
The rebels became alarmed and fled to Philippi, in Bourbon county, about
17 miles southward. On Monday, the 27th, detachments of Ohio and Indiana
troops crossed the Ohio river at Wheeling and at Marietta, on their way,
also, to Grafton. Simultaneously, Colonel Kelly’s regiment of Virginians
moved forward in the same direction, but the bridges having been
destroyed, their march was delayed. At every point, and especially at
Mannington and Fairmount, they were received with great enthusiasm and
hailed as deliverers.
BATTLE OF PHILLIPI.
Brigadier-General Thomas A. Morris arrived at Grafton on the evening of
June 1st, and took command of the Union forces. An expedition was
immediately organized to surprise and attack the rebels at Philippi,
under the command of Colonel Porterfield. The troops left in two
divisions. The First Virginia regiment, part of the Ohio Sixteenth, and
the Seventh Indiana, under Colonel Kelly, moved eastward, by rail to
Thornton, a distance of five miles, and from there marched on twenty-two
miles, to Phillipi, reaching the town on the lower side. The second
division, consisting of the Sixth and Seventh Indiana, the Fourteenth
Ohio, and a section of artillery under Lieutenant-Colonel Sturgis, met
by detachments at Webster, on the North-western Virginia railroad, and
marched twelve miles to Phillipi. The combined forces were commanded by
Colonels Dumont and Lander, and at eight o’clock on the night of the 2d
of June marched forward through one of the most overwhelming storms
known to our country that year. Lander had been detailed to a special
command by General Morris, and in the terrible march that followed,
through darkness, mud and rain he led the way, sometimes exploring the
route three miles ahead of his forces, in the midst of profound
darkness, and through mud so deep and tenacious that every forward step
was a struggle. The men followed, bravely toiling through the miry soil,
staggering forward in thick darkness, and pelted by the rain so
violently that they could not have seen the road had it been daylight.
Still, not a murmur was heard. Against the whole force of the elements
the brave fellows struggled on, eager for the storm of fire which was
soon to follow the deluge that poured upon them. Now and then Lander’s
majestic form, seated upon his charger, would loom upon them through the
darkness, returning from his scouting duty to cheer them with his deep,
sympathetic voice, which aroused them like a trumpet. Thus they moved
on, supported by one stern purpose, through woods, across valleys, and
over hills, the storm drowning their approach till they drew up on the
edge of the town overlooking the enemy. But it was not altogether a
surprise. Just before they reached the town the troops had passed a
farm-house. A woman within that house sprang from her bed as she saw the
lines of troops filing slowly by in the misty gray of the dawn, and
guessed their object. She instantly aroused her little son and sent him
by a short cross-road to give the alarm. The boy was quick of foot, but
the hopes of conflict had so aroused the energies of these jaded men
that he was but a few minutes in advance of them.
Lander’s troops took position on a hill across the river and below the
town, commanding it and the encampments around. He at once planted two
pieces of artillery, and prepared to open fire at exactly four o’clock,
the hour agreed upon for the attack, which was to be made at once by
both divisions. Lander was to assault them in front, while Kelly was to
attack the rear and cut off all retreat. But Lander found his division
alone before the enemy. The terrible night, the almost impassable roads,
and a march of twenty-two miles had delayed Kelly’s forces, and when he
did arrive it was to come in by mistake below the town.
The presence of Lander’s troops aroused the town and threw it into
terrible commotion. In vain Lander searched the distant hills, impatient
for Kelly’s appearance. The hour of attack had arrived and passed. The
men became impatient as their leader, who, in his indomitable courage
commenced the battle with a portion of his forces.
When Lander gave the order his eager men sprang to their posts, and the
artillery opened fire. As the first gun awoke its thunder on the
encampments, Kelly advanced, but in the wrong direction. He instantly
comprehended Lander’s action, and with prompt courage charged upon the
encampments. The batteries had by this time obtained the range, and were
pouring in their messengers of terror and death, tearing through tents
and cabins, and scattering the rebels like chaff in every direction.
After firing a volley of musketry, Lander advanced.
Colonel Kelly’s command was close upon the enemy, the Virginia troops in
advance, the Henry Clay Guards in front, and Colonel Kelly and Captain
Fordyce leading, while Colonel Lander’s force came rushing down the hill
to the bridge and joined in an impetuous pursuit of the fugitives.
Colonel Kelly, who, with a bravery amounting almost to rashness, had
been foremost from the very first, was shot by a concealed foe, the ball
entering the left breast and lodging beneath the shoulder blade. As his
men conveyed him to a place of safety, this brave man, while in the
agony of his pain, exclaimed, “I expect I shall have to die. I would be
glad to live, if it might be, that I might do something for my country,
but if it cannot be, I shall have at least the consolation of knowing
that I fell in a just cause.” But he was not destined to be cut off in
the zenith of his fame and usefulness. After a few weeks of danger and
anguish he was again performing noble duty for the country he loved so
well.
In this dashing victory fifteen of the rebels were killed, a large
number wounded, and ten taken prisoners, together with a quantity of
camp equipage, arms, &c. The organization of the rebels at that point
was completely broken up, and the men driven to the mountains.
GREAT DESTRUCTION OF RAILROAD PROPERTY.
The bitter animosity of the rebel army was strikingly illustrated on the
23d July, by the destruction of a large number of locomotives and cars
of the Baltimore and Ohio railroad by secession troops under the command
of Colonel Thomas J. Jackson. Forty-eight locomotives and three hundred
cars were blown up or burned, one of the engines having been previously
wrapped in our national ensign. The road had been rendered impassable by
the destruction of bridges, and, therefore, the rolling stock could not
have been rendered available. The estimated loss was about
three-quarters of a million of dollars.
GENERAL McCLELLAN IN WESTERN VIRGINIA.
General McClellan, during the time that elapsed since his appointment,
had been actively engaged in organizing his forces and getting them
ready for efficient service. Scouting parties—an important feature of
his department—were detailed for service, and raw troops replaced by
experienced men. Colonel Kelly, who was now recovering from the wounds
received at Phillipi, had been appointed by Governor Pierpont to the
command of the Virginia brigade of volunteers. Gens. Morris, Hill,
Schenck and Schleich were assigned their respective positions—the
telegraph lines were put in order, and new ones for military purposes
were constructed where necessary. The arrival of fresh regiments, among
which Colonel Rosecranz made his appearance, added great activity to the
department. On the side of the enemy were Generals Robert S. Garnett,
Henry A. Wise, Ex-Governor, John B. Floyd, Ex-Secretary of War, and
Colonel Pegram.
Columns of Federal troops were dispatched to attack the enemy,
simultaneously, at three different points, and the first collision
between them occurred on the 10th of July.
BATTLE OF SCAREYTOWN.
A brigade of rebels under Governor Wise, crossed the Alleghanies to the
head-waters of the Kanawha, with the intention of attacking the rear of
McClellan’s forces, while General Garnett was prepared to meet him in
front. General Cox had been dispatched to this section with a
considerable force of Ohio, Indiana and Kentucky troops, and was
encamped on the Kanawha about ten miles below its junction with Scarey
Creek. Hearing that a portion of the rebel force had taken position at
Scareytown, but four miles above his camp, on the other side of the
river, and were entrenching themselves there, General Cox dispatched a
force of about 1,000 men, consisting of the Twelfth Ohio, a portion of
the Twenty-first Ohio, the Cleveland Artillery, and a detachment of
cavalry, all under the command of Colonel Lowe, to dislodge the rebels
if practicable. The column was ferried across the stream, and moved
cautiously onward, the scouts scouring the country as they advanced. The
enemy was found to be entrenched on the opposite side of Pocatallico
Creek, here intersecting the Kanawha, protected by breastworks, and also
sheltered by woods, about half way up a slope of high hills, having two
pieces of artillery in position, while a portion of their infantry had
possessed themselves of ten or twelve log huts, constituting the village
of Scareytown, in which they had improvised loop-holes. The Federal
troops were met by a discharge from the rebel battery as soon as they
made their appearance; but the artillery of Captain Cotton soon got in
position, and returned the fire of the enemy with good effect. The
infantry were now ordered to advance, and rushed fearlessly across the
stream, which was fordable, in the face of a heavy fire. The left wing,
composed of portions of the Twelfth and Twenty-first Ohio, had reached
the enemy’s entrenchments, but being unsupported by the right, and a
fresh regiment of the rebels appearing on the ground, they were
compelled to retreat, leaving many of their dead and wounded on the
field.
The loss of the Federal forces by this engagement was nine killed,
thirty-eight wounded, and three missing. Of the rebel loss we have no
record.
A great misfortune of the day, however, was the capture of five of the
principal officers of General Cox’s command, who were not attached to
the expedition.
Colonels Woodruff and De Villers, Lieutenant-Colonel Neff, and Captains
Austin and Hurd, prompted by an eager desire to witness the engagement
in which they were not assigned a part, rode up the banks of the river
to its junction with the creek, and hearing a loud shout, were led to
believe that the Federal forces were victorious. They procured a skiff,
crossed the creek, and inadvertently strayed within the enemy’s lines,
where they were all made prisoners.
HOW THE ENEMY WAS TO BE ATTACKED.