The morning after the battle of Manassas all seemed chaos, or confusion
worse confounded. The cold, disagreeable rain that had set in during the
night still continued, and the troops were provided with no means to
shelter themselves from the pitiless storm which raged; and to add to
this discomfort, the commissary wagons could not be found, and the men
were almost entirely without provisions. Staff officers were galloping
in every direction, looking for regiments that had been lost on the
march of the night before, and it seemed for a while as though the
utmost efforts of the general officers and their assistants would never
be able to restore order out of all this muddle.
All day long this state of affairs continued. We had gained a great
battle, it was true, and had we continued the pursuit, the command would
have remained intact to a great degree; but the demoralizing effects of
countermarching an army in the moment of victory were here strongly
evidenced. The impression had gained ground that an opportunity had been
let slip to deal the enemy a fatal blow, and therefore dissatisfaction
was expressed on every side, and more than once I heard it said that “if
we had not intended following up what successes we might meet with,
there was but little gained in fighting the battle.”
Towards evening something like order seemed restored, and we waited in
momentary expectation of hearing the command “Forward.” But night came
on, and we were still idly facing the pelting rain. Shivering, shaking,
and wretched, the troops threw themselves upon the wet ground to await
the morrow.
At midnight we were aroused by the rattle of the kettle-drum calling us
to arms, and never did men more readily respond to the summons. An order
had been received for the First Maryland and the Third Tennessee to
accompany Colonel J. E. B. Stuart, with cavalry and artillery, to
Fairfax Court House.
The night was intensely dark, and our progress was, therefore,
necessarily slow. For hours we toiled through the deep mud, stumbling
and falling over rocks, stumps and logs, and mistaking our way every
mile, when at daylight we struck the turnpike leading to Alexandria, and
but six miles from where we had started.
The rain had now ceased, the clouds grew lighter and lighter, and
presently the wind springing up, they were sent fleeting, and dancing,
and skipping across heaven’s blue face, to be seen no more, we trusted,
for many days to come. Never before had the glorious sun been more
heartily welcomed by suffering humanity than it was that morning as it
rose with silent majesty in the eastern sky. Never before had it
appeared so lovely, never risen with such stately grandeur; and, as we
gazed in its full, bright face, and began to feel its warm breath
envelop us, we forgot all the sufferings and privations of the past
thirty-six hours, and were made as happy as we had just before been
miserable.
Evidences of the enemy’s rapid retreat now appeared on every side. The
first thing which we encountered was an abandoned wagon, ladened with
army bread. Nothing could have been more acceptable, and the troops were
bountifully supplied. A little farther a large camp was found, filled
with everything conceivable that could contribute to the comfort and
efficiency of an army. As we progressed, wagons in great numbers
presented themselves, containing army stores, ammunition, arms, etc.,
while camp kettles, muskets, cartridge boxes, belts, breast-plates,
etc., lined the road for miles. Broken-down buggies that had, no doubt,
been abandoned by the valiant Yankee members of Congress who had started
with the army, bound for Richmond, put in an occasional appearance. At
one place a human arm was found that had, no doubt, been amputated in
the ambulance which was conveying the sufferer to the rear in the
general flight. It evidently had belonged to an officer, for it was of
delicate mould and fair as woman’s, and on the little finger was an
exquisitely-wrought ring, containing a brilliant and valuable diamond
set.
We reached Fairfax Court House by 12 o’clock, where we also found an
immense quantity of stores, especially of clothing, which at that time
was much needed by the Confederate Government. Nothing could exceed the
joy of the inhabitants at once more beholding the gray they loved so
well; but more than once they expressed their regret that we had not
arrived some hours earlier; “for,” said one of them, “four thousand
Yankees left here but this morning, who would have surrendered to a
corporal’s guard, and those in advance of them were, if possible, in a
worse plight, utterly demoralized, and without the semblance of
organization.”
A half mile beyond the village the command went into camp in a woods by
the side of the turnpike, there to await orders from General Johnston,
whom we supposed moving with the whole army upon Washington, and but a
short distance in our rear.
Reclining upon a bundle of straw, resting my tired, aching limbs, I was
joined by my first Lieutenant, Shellman, who, with face radiant with
joy, informed me that he had just heard the Colonel commanding express
his belief that we would surely be in front of Washington before
thirty-six hours. With all my heart did I hope it might prove true; but
I had my doubts. I did not like the confusion we had witnessed, and
feared it would require some days to reorganize the army, and place it
in a condition to assume the offensive. That it was possible to yet
retrieve the great error committed on the 21st and 22d, I was inclined
to believe; but that it would be done was another question; and an
observation from a private soldier suggested itself to me more than
once. It was made while we were retracing our steps to Manassas after
the battle, when all were out of humor. “A President and two Generals,”
said he, “are too many to command one army.” And subsequent events
proved how correct it was.
As day after day passed by, and there appeared no indications of
offensive operations being resumed, our hopes of a speedy peace
vanished, and we saw nothing before us but a protracted and bloody
struggle.
Rapidly the enemy reorganized and reinforced his broken and discomfited
army; and in an incredibly short time the genius of McClellan had placed
around Washington an army and fortifications that it would have been
madness for the Confederate Generals to attack.
It was determined, however, to present to them a bold front to conceal
as much as possible our own numerical inferiority, and, therefore, the
Confederates were advanced until they held possession of Mason’s Hill,
but five miles from Alexandria. Munson’s Hill was soon after taken also,
after a slight resistance; and the Southern army was thereby placed
still nearer to the National Capital.
The infantry, under the command of Colonel J. E. B. Stuart, remained
some weeks at Fairfax, when it was ordered to Fairfax Station, on the
line of the Orange and Alexandria railroad, there to reunite with the
balance of the brigade, now commanded by General Elzey. Here we set
ourselves down for a long stay, as everything indicated that hostilities
would not be renewed until spring, for both governments seemed to have
set to work preparing their respective armies for the desperate fighting
to be then begun.
Strict and rigid discipline was sought to be enforced throughout the
Confederate army; and it was then we saw the incompetency of many of our
officers, and had forebodings of the disastrous results likely to accrue
from the wretched system adopted by the government of electing officers
to companies instead of their being appointed by the Executive after a
searching examination by an experienced and competent soldier.
In a measure, the First Maryland Regiment was free from this evil, which
was owing principally to the determined steps taken by Colonel Geo. H.
Steuart, who had succeeded Colonel Elzey in its command. An old and
experienced soldier himself, he soon saw who was competent and who was
not. Some of the latter he disposed of in a summary manner, and with
others he thought to bide his time. He enforced discipline to the
strictest letter of the old army regulations, which, though at first
very objectionable to both officers and men of his command, afterwards
became popular as the good resulting therefrom developed itself.
Drill by companies was had in the morning of every favorable day, and
drill in the afternoon by battalion, with dress parade in the evening.
Both officers and men were required to pay the strictest attention to
their clothing and person, and the slightest neglect of either would
draw from him a rebuke or punishment. The most rigid sanitary
regulations were adopted for the camp; and when the neat appearance and
healthy condition of the men were contrasted with that of other
regiments around us, the most indifferent were stimulated to exert
themselves to their utmost in sustaining the commandant in his efforts
to promote the health and comfort of those placed under his charge; and,
therefore, from its being at first one of the most obnoxious duties
which the soldier had to perform, it became one of the most pleasant.
That Colonel Steuart was popular with the regiment upon assuming
command, I cannot say. In fact, I believe he was much disliked; but in
less than two months he had won the love and affection of all. Where was
there such a camp as that of the First Maryland? Where such drill and
discipline; such healthy, rugged looking troops; such neat and soldierly
fellows? Where was the regiment that could follow them on a long, weary
march with that rapid, elastic step for which they were so famous?
Nowhere in the Confederacy. Ever vigilant, ever watchful, ever cheerful
in the discharge of their duties, they were the pride and boast of the
army.
With his officers, Colonel Steuart was strict and exacting, but always
kind and courteous. He established a school for their instruction in
tactics, and daily they were assembled at his headquarters for
recitation; and not for his commission would one of them have appeared
before him unable to recite the lessons he had been instructed to get.
As a body, they were as intelligent a set of men as could be found in
the army. I am compelled to say, however, that there were one or two
disgraceful exceptions in the number.
One of these, in particular, was a Captain Edelin, _alias_ Lum Cooper,
who had by some means been elected to the command of a fine company,
composed principally of young men from Baltimore. Without even the
rudiments of a common school education, holding the truth in utter
contempt, and a low swaggerer, he had nothing to recommend him but his
having lighted the lamps in the streets of Washington for years, and
beat a drum in the war with Mexico. His conduct everywhere in the army
was disgraceful in the extreme, and reflected discredit, not only upon
the regiment to which he belonged, but upon the State, of which he was
neither a native nor a resident. Finally, despised and avoided by all
who, without knowing the man, had associated with him in the regiment,
he ran the blockade, took the oath of allegiance to the Federal
Government, and turned informer upon the Government of which he had been
a sworn servant.