Cairo, Ill., Saturday, Aug. 30. We were astir early to catch the first sight of the far-famed city of Cairo (Ill.), and certainly an unhappy surprise we found it; the combined medley of filth and disorder, the streets rough, the sidewalks torn, and tattered, rendering it dangerous to travel, lest they should throw one headlong to the ditch.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
August 30th.
Still no prospect of a lodging; so here we remain. I never before lived in a house without a balcony, and have only now found out how inconvenient it is. The whole establishment consists of two rooms on each side of a passage as wide as the front door; and as it has a very low ceiling, with no opening, and no shade near, it is decidedly the warmest spot I ever inhabited. We all sleep on the floor and keep our clothes in our trunks — except Lilly, who has an armoir without doors. Knives and forks for dinner to-day, though the table still consists of a single plank The house really has a suffocating effect on me, there is such a close look about it. The front is fully a foot below the level of the street, while quite a flight of steps leads from the back door to the yard. In fact, the whole town consists of abrupt little mounds. It is rather a pretty place; but Heaven save me from the misery of living in it! Miriam is crazy to remain — even advocates that dirty, bare, shutterless boarding-house where we passed the first night, from what attraction I cannot imagine. I am just as anxious to get into the country. I would hate the dull round of this little place; I prefer solitude where I can do as I please without being observed. Here we are as well known by people we never before heard of as though we were fellow-citizens.
Camp near Upton’s Hill, near Falls Church, on road to Manassas, August 30, 1862. — All or nearly all day we have heard cannon firing, as is supposed, in direction of Manassas Junction. It is believed that General Jackson is fighting Pope. The firing was heard yesterday a considerable part of the day. We all listen to it, look at the couriers; anybody moving rapidly attracts a thousand eyes. For a long time the thing was not very much attended to. Now it gets exciting. We feel anxious; we wish to know whether the battle is with us or with our foes. It is now 5 or 5:30 P. M. The decision must come soon. It is not a bright nor a dark day. It is neither hot nor cool for the season. A fair fighting day. The only report we hear is that a Union man eight miles out says we got possession of Manassas yesterday, and that the Rebels today are trying to get it back; that they have been repulsed three times. The firing seems to be in the same direction as heretofore and not differing much in loudness. Anxious moments these are! I hear the roar as I write.
7:30 P. M. — A lovely quiet sunset; an exhilarating scene around us; the distant booming growing more faint and more distant, apparently, till at early dark it died away. With us or with our foes?!! It is said Jackson was west of Pope and being driven back; if so, probably “with us.” That Jackson made a speech saying they must win this fight, that it would decide the fate of the Confederacy! Well, we wait. The suspense is less dreadful since the cannon no longer roar.
9:30 P. M. — No news. This I interpret to mean that there has been no decided victory — no decided defeat — a drawn battle. Why not mass tonight all the thousands of troops to overwhelm Jackson tomorrow? It could have been done in time to have flogged him today. He is the rebel chieftain. His destruction destroys the Rebel cause?
30th.—We can distinctly hear the fighting beyond Centreville; yet we move slowly, and in that direction. This fight has been going on for two days, with great advantage of numbers and position on the side of the enemy, and yet we stop to rest every half hour, when no one is tired. The troops have had no marching for a week. What can our delay mean? God send it may not be the jealousy foreshadowed in a letter written to my wife a week ago. Go on! go on! for God’s sake, go on. The whole army says go on, and yet we linger here. We stop an hour in the suburb of Fairfax, whilst the sound of the fight is terrible to our impatience, and we tarry here.
5 P. M.—We have just reached Centreville. The battle rages in sight, yet we stop again to rest when no one is tired, but all anxious to rush on. After having “rested” for two hours, we moved slowly forward for two miles, when we met a courier, who exclaimed: “Oh, why not one hour earlier!” Close on his heels followed the flying crowd, again overpowered, beaten and whipped at Bull Run, the disastrous battle field of last year, and we too late to save it.
Alas, my poor country! and must you at last be sacrificed to the jealousies, the selfishness, the ambition, the treachery or the incompetency of those to whom you have entrusted your treasure, life, honor, every thing? Grouchy failed to come. So did Hancock, Franklin and McClellan. There may be good reasons for our delay, and we not be permitted to know what they are. The subordinate is forbidden to discuss the merits or the motives of his superior, but we must not be blamed for thinking. Pope was whipped. Thousands of our neighbors and our friends died on that bloody field, whilst struggling to hold it till we could reach and save them, and the joyous faces of many officers of our Army of the Potomac made us think that the whipping of Pope and the slaughter of his men, had something to do with their joy. We could not help thinking, and the army regulations will be lenient with us, if we will only not tell our thoughts. But there is one subject connected with this, on which I am inclined to think that, if spirits ever talk, those of the slaughtered there will cry aloud, in spite of the army regulations. Whilst we rested for hours in sight of the battle field, couriers came to us from the Medical Director of General Pope’s army, asking that our Surgeons might be sent forward to the aid of the wounded, as they were suffering dreadfully and falling faster than their Surgeons could take care of them. On receipt of this message, I saw a Surgeon ride up to General Hancock (who was lying on the ground) and asked permission to go to their aid; the General abruptly ordered him back to his regiment! I could not learn that a single Surgeon to us permitted to go forward!
Having met the retreating crowd, and night having come on, we fell back about two miles, now tired and dispirited, and threw ourselves on the ground in and around the fortifications at Centreville, and by 12 o’clock we were all resting, preparatory to another fight to-morrow.
Saturday, 30th—We are on guard every other day now. I am on picket post again on the main road out east from our camp. There are thirty of us with a captain in command. I stood on vedette for eight hours. Our reserve post is close by a farm house owned by a man named Patrick. He has a great many slaves who are out in the fields picking cotton, and they have a colored foreman, a slave at that, over them. But Patrick himself is the “driver,” though he seems to be kind to his slaves, who are mostly women and children. Patrick had been forced into the army of the Confederacy, but he escaped, and returning to his plantation, he hopes now to remain within the Union lines.
Wednesday, [August] 27 [and Thursday, 28th,] at Alexandria. No great difference from time in Washington, but much less agreeable. Friday, 29th, marched to Munson’s Hill and bivouacked. Saturday, 30th, put up our tents between Forts Ramsay and [Buffalo] at Upton’s Hill. On Friday, fighting heard west and southwest of us — supposed to be at Manassas. All day Saturday, ditto. At Alexandria first saw McClellan’s Grand Army. They do not look so efficient as General Cox’s six regiments, but are no doubt good.
The Thirtieth got here in time to get through to Pope. [The] Eleventh and Twelfth [Ohio] went forward under Colonel Scammon to try to do the same thing. At Bull Run Bridge, beyond Fairfax, united with First, Second, Third, and Fourth New Jersey, under General Taylor, and pushed on, New Jersey regiments in advance; ran into a battery and heavy force of the enemy. New Jersey broke, fled, and never rallied; [the] Eleventh and Twelfth pushed on and fought gallantly, Colonel Scammon cool and steady! Won praise from all. Good! Honor of Ohio sustained. Eastern correspondents fail to tell the facts.
Saturday, 30th. In the morning was on picket in the town. Roasted corn for breakfast. Ate and slept on a porch to a jayhawked store. Slept soundly. Went to the tannery and had a good wash. Got some peaches. Went out about noon and joined the main command, two miles out. Went out a mile where Capt. Welch was staying with a picket guard. Got plenty of melons to eat from a Mrs. Dade, whose husband was in the secesh army, a surgeon. Scouting parties went out ten and twelve miles each way, north and east. Went out and met our command. Slept in a house on floor. Strange.
Saturday, 30th.—Met regiment this morning at Little Laurel bridge. Marched through Loudon at 10 A. M. Rather shabby-looking place. Camped two miles from Rock Castle River.
August 30—Our company went to work to-day throwing up breastworks.
AUGUST 30TH.—Banks, by the order of Pope, has burnt 400 Yankee cars loaded with quartermaster’s and commissary stores. But our soldiers have fared sumptuously on the enemy’s provisions, and captured clothing enough for half the army.
