Sunday, 21.—We were at church this morning and heard Bishop Meade, on the subject of “Praise.” He and his whole congregation greatly excited. Perhaps there was no one present who had not some near relative at Manassas, and the impression was universal that they were then fighting. This suspense is fearful; but we must possess our souls in patience.
P.G.T Beauregard and Irwin McDowell
July 21.—This day the battle of Bull Run, Va., was fought between the national forces under General McDowell and the rebels under Beauregard. Shortly after 5 A. M., three hours later than ordered, the national army moved from Centreville in three divisions, commanded respectively by Gens. Richardson, Tyler and Hunter. Richardson’s (one brigade) moved on the road from Centreville to Manassas, to where that road crosses Bull Run, at Blackburn’s Ford, and there opened fire upon the enemy with artillery. This movement, the extreme left of all the operations of the day, was intended as a feint, and to hold the enemy in check in case of disaster to the national forces on the right, as the enemy’s movement forward here would imperil the retreat. Tyler’s Division (three brigades and two U. S. batteries) moved on the Warrenton Turnpike to the Stone Bridge that crosses Bull Run. Beyond this bridge the enemy was in position with artillery, and had impeded the road by a heavy abatis. Hunter’s Division (5 brigades, 4 batteries and cavalry), which was the main body, moved along the same road with Tyler’s Division until they had crossed a small stream called Cub Run, and then between Cub Run and Bull Run turned off to the right and made its way through the woods to a position on Bull Run, three miles above the Stone Bridge. At this point, Sudley’s Springs, there was an undefended ford, and here the men began to cross the stream. They got over very slowly, as many stopped to drink. Clouds of dust in the air indicated that the enemy was moving in force from Manassas toward the right, and it became possible that he would reach the point of passage and attack before the Union force was all across the stream; therefore the regiments were ordered to break from the line of march and cross separately, and a division under Col. Heintzelman moved forward, cutting a road through the woods as it went toward a point on Bull Run, half way between the undefended ford at Sudley’s Springs and the Stone Bridge. Gen. Tyler also was ordered to press his feint at Stone Bridge, in hope to divert some portion of the heavy force that the enemy was sending across the front toward the right. When the first brigade of Hunter’s command (Burnside’s) reached and formed in the open space beyond Bull Run, the rebels at once opened fire with artillery, and soon after with infantry. The national forces received the enemy’s fire very steadily, and supported by a battalion of regular infantry, and the first regiment that had crossed from Heintzelman’s command, drove the enemy before it, and forced his position at the Stone Bridge.
Thus two brigades (Sherman’s and Keyes’) of Gen. Tyler’s Division stationed on the Warrenton road, were enabled to cross, and to drive the right of the enemy, commanded by Gen. Beauregard in person, from the front of the field. The contest then became severe for a position in front and to the right of Stone Bridge but to the left of the ford at Sudley’s Springs. Here was a hill with a farm house on it; from behind this hill the enemy’s batteries annoyed the Union forces. Upon it, therefore, the attack was pressed very warmly by the brigades of Wilcox, Howard, Franklin and Sherman, a part of Porter’s brigade, and the cavalry under Palmer, and by the Rhode Island, Rickett’s and Griffin’s batteries. Rickett’s battery became an object of the enemy’s special attention, and he made strenuous attempts to carry it. Three times he was repulsed, and the third time was even driven from his own position, and entirely from the hill. From the Stone Bridge westward, the Warrenton Road was now entirely in the possession .of the national troops, and the engineers were completing the removal of the abatis, that the remainder of Tyler’s Division (Schenck’s brigade and the batteries) might pass the bridge. The enemy was broken and disheartened. But it was now nearly 4 o’clock in the afternoon, and the Union men had been in battle since ten o’clock in the morning, had previously marched nine miles, and had made no regular meal. Some of though regiments also had become shaken in the severe work that had been done, and were unsteady; and at this time the enemy received reinforcements from Winchester, being that portion of General Johnston’s command which had previously come up. These forces immediately attacked “on the right, and towards the rear of the right,” and opened a fire of musketry which threw the Union men into disorder. From this disorder they never recovered. Though every effort was made to rally them, it was in vain with the bulk of the force: the battalion of regulars alone formed, and moved to the attack. They held the rebels in check for a short time, when, as it was evident that no more could be done, the order to retreat was given. The retreat became a rout, and the rout a panic. Col. Porter’s force of regulars still maintained their order, however, and covered the passage of the stream, beyond which it was covered by Richardson’s Division, and a brigade (Blenker’s) of Miles’ Division.
The whole Union force, men of all arms, in the main action, and exclusive of Richardson’s and Miles’ Divisions, the actual force with which we crossed Bull Run, was 18,000 men. Those two divisions if included would swell the force to 35,000 men. One division of the army (Runyon’s) was left at Vienna, its foremost regiment being seven miles back of Centreville.
Southern accounts of the battle make it appear that the rebels had 40,000 men upon the field, and 25,000 in reserve at Manassas, and on the road beyond. The National loss in killed and wounded was 1,590; killed alone, 479. Many of the wounds were very slight. The enemy reports his own loss at 1,593; killed alone, 393.—(Docs. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 and 111.)
—Colonel Einstein of the Twenty-Seventh Pennsylvania Regiment, returned late this evening to the field of battle at Bull Run, and brought off six pieces of artillery, which he delivered to the commanding officer on the Potomac.— Philadelphia Press, July 24.
—P. G. T. Beauregard was promoted to the rank of General in the rebel army. The New Orleans Delta in noting the fact says: “We have been furnished with a copy of the letter of President Davis, written on the field of battle after the glorious victory at Manassas, acquainting Brig.-Gen. Beauregard of his promotion to the rank of General, the highest grade in the army of the Confederate States. This most richly deserved promotion and honor could not be conveyed in more just, tasteful, and appropriate terms.—The Generals of the Army of the Confederate States are Samuel Cooper, Robert E. Lee, Joseph E. Johnston, and P. G. T. Beauregard.”
LETTER OF PRESIDENT DAVIS.
Manassas, Va., July 21, 1881.
Sir: Appreciating your services in the battle of Manassas, and on several other occasions during the existing war, as affording the highest evidence of your skill as a commander, your gallantry as a soldier, and your zeal as a patriot, you are promoted to be General in the Army of the Confederate States of America, and with the consent of the Congress will be duly commissioned accordingly. Yours, &c,
Jeff. Davis.
Gen. P. G. T. Beauregard, &c., &c, Ac.
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—The schooner S. J. Waring, captured by the privateer Jeff. Davis, on the night of the 18th instant, arrived at New York. When fifty miles south of Charleston, S. C, the colored steward, William Tillman, killed three of the prize crew with a hatchet. The other two were captured, but set at liberty on promising to work the vessel. Their names were James Milnor and James Dawsett, of New Jersey. Tillman, with the aid of the rest of the crew, except one man named Donald McLeod, who refused to assist on the recapture of the vessel, brought her to New York.—N. Y. World, July 22.
July 20th.—The great battle which is to arrest rebellion, or to make it a power in the land, is no longer distant or doubtful. M’Dowell has completed his reconnaissance of the country in front of the enemy, and General Scott anticipates that he will be in possession of Manassas to-morrow night. All the statements of officers concur in describing the Confederates as strongly entrenched along the line of Bull’s Run covering the railroad. The New York papers, indeed, audaciously declare that the enemy have fallen back in disorder. In the main thoroughfares of the city there is still a scattered army of idle soldiers moving through the civil crowd, though how they come here no one knows. The officers clustering round the hotels, and running in and out of the bar-rooms and eating-houses, are still more numerous. When I inquired at the head-quarters who these were, the answer was that the majority were skulkers, but that there was no power at such a moment to send them back to their regiments or punish them. In fact, deducting the reserves, the rear-guards, and the scanty garrisons at the earth works, M’Dowell will not have 25,000 men to undertake his seven days’ march through a hostile country to the Confederate capital; and yet, strange to say, in the pride and passion of the politicians, no doubt is permitted to rise for a moment respecting his complete success.
I was desirous of seeing what impression was produced upon the Congress of the United States by the crisis which was approaching, and drove down to the Senate at noon. There was no appearance of popular enthusiasm, excitement, or emotion among the people in the passages. They drank their iced water, ate cakes or lozenges, chewed and chatted, or dashed at their acquaintances amongst the members, as though nothing more important than a railway bill or a postal concession was being debated inside. I entered the Senate, and found the House engaged in not listening to Mr. Latham, the Senator for California, who was delivering an elaborate lecture on the aspect of political affairs from a Republican point of view. The Senators were, as usual, engaged in reading newspapers, writing letters, or in whispered conversation, whilst the Senator received his applause from the people in the galleries, who were scarcely restrained from stamping their feet at the most highly-flown passages. Whilst I was listening to what is by courtesy called the debate, a messenger from Centreville, sent in a letter to me, stating that General M’Dowell would advance early in the morning, and expected to engage the enemy before noon. At the same moment a Senator who had received a despatch left his seat and read it to a brother legislator, and the news it contained was speedily diffused from one seat to another, and groups formed on the edge of the floor eagerly discussing the welcome intelligence.
The President’s hammer again and again called them to order; and from out of this knot, Senator Sumner, his face lighted with pleasure, came to tell me the good news. “M’Dowell has carried Bull’s Run without firing a shot. Seven regiments attacked it at the point of the bayonet, and the enemy immediately fled. General Scott only gives M’Dowell till mid-day tomorrow to be in possession of Manassas.” Soon afterwards, Mr. Hay, the President’s secretary, appeared on the floor to communicate a message to the Senate. I asked him if the news was true. “All I can tell you,” said he, “is that the President has heard nothing at all about it, and that General Scott, from whom we have just received a communication, is equally ignorant of the reported success.”
Some Senators and many Congress men have already gone to join McDowell’s army, or to follow in its wake, in the hope of seeing the Lord deliver the Philistines into his hands. As I was leaving the Chamber with Mr. Sumner, a dust-stained, toil-worn man, caught the Senator by the arm, and said, “Senator, I am one of your constituents. I come from town, in Massachusetts, and here are letters from people you know, to certify who I am. My poor brother was killed yesterday, and I want to go out and get his body to send back to the old people; but they won’t let me pass without an order.” And so Mr. Sumner wrote a note to General Scott, and another to General Mansfield, recommending that poor Gordon Frazer should be permitted to go through the Federal lines on his labour of love; and the honest Scotchman seemed as grateful as if he had already found his brother’s body.
Every carriage, gig, waggon, and hack has been engaged by people going out to see the fight. The price is enhanced by mysterious communications respecting the horrible slaughter in the skirmishes at Bull’s Run. The French cooks and hotel-keepers, by some occult process of reasoning, have arrived at the conclusion that they must treble the prices of their wines and of the hampers of provisions which the Washington people are ordering to comfort themselves at their bloody Derby. “There was not less than 18,000 men, sir, killed and destroyed. I don’t care what General Scott says to the contrary, he was not there. I saw a reliable gentleman, ten minutes ago, as cum straight from the place, and he swore there was a string of waggons three miles long with the wounded. While these Yankees lie so, I should not be surprised to hear they said they did not lose 1000 men in that big fight the day before yesterday.”
When the newspapers came in from New York I read flaming accounts of the ill-conducted reconnaissance against orders, which was terminated by a most dastardly and ignominious retreat, “due,” say the New York papers, “to the inefficiency and cowardice of some of the officers.” Far different was the behaviour of the modest chroniclers of these scenes, who, as they tell us, “stood their ground as well as any of them, in spite of the shot, shell, and rifle-balls that whizzed past them for many hours.” General Tyler alone, perhaps, did more, for “he was exposed to the enemy’s fire for nearly four hours;” and when we consider that this fire came from masked batteries, and that the wind of round shot is unusually destructive (in America), we can better appreciate the danger to which he was so gallantly indifferent. It is obvious that in this first encounter the Federal troops gained no advantage; and as they were the assailants, their repulse, which cannot be kept secret from the rest of the army, will have a very damaging effect on their morale.
General Johnston, who has been for some days with a considerable force in an entrenched position at Winchester, in the valley of the Shenandoah, had occupied General Scott’s attention, in consequence of the facility which he possessed to move into Maryland by Harper’s Ferry, or to fall on the Federals by the Manassas Gap Railway, which was available by a long march from the town he occupied. General Patterson, with a Federal corps of equal strength, had accordingly been despatched to attack him, or, at all events, to prevent his leaving Winchester without an action; but the news to-night is that Patterson, who was an officer of some reputation, has allowed Johnston to evacuate Winchester, and has not pursued him; so that it is impossible to predict where the latter will appear.
Having failed utterly in my attempts to get a horse, I was obliged to negotiate with a livery-stable keeper, who had a hooded gig, or tilbury, left on his hands, to which he proposed to add a splinter-bar and pole, so as to make it available for two horses, on condition that I paid him the assessed value of the vehicle and horses, in case they were destroyed by the enemy. Of what particular value my executors might have regarded the guarantee in question, the worthy man did not inquire, nor did he stipulate for any value to be put upon the driver; but it struck me that, if these were in any way seriously damaged, the occupants of the vehicle were not likely to escape. The driver, indeed, seemed by no means willing to undertake the job; and again and again it was proposed to me that I should drive, but I persistently refused.
On completing my bargain with the stable-keeper, in which it was arranged with Mr. Wroe that I was to start on the following morning early, and return at night before twelve o’clock, or pay a double day, I went over to the Legation, and found Lord Lyons in the garden. I went to request that he would permit Mr. Warre, one of the attaches, to accompany me, as he had expressed a desire to that effect. His Lordship hesitated at first, thinking perhaps that the American papers would turn the circumstance to some base uses, if they were made aware of it; but finally he consented, on the distinct assurance that I was to be back the following night, and would not, under any event, proceed onwards with General McDowell’s army till after I had returned to Washington. On talking the matter over the matter with Mr. Warre, I resolved that the best plan would be to start that night if possible, and proceed over the long bridge, so as to overtake the army before it advanced in the early morning.
It was a lovely moonlight night. As we walked through the street to General Scott’s quarters, for the purpose of procuring a pass, there was scarcely a soul abroad; and the silence which reigned contrasted strongly with the tumult prevailing in the day-time. A light glimmered in the General’s parlour; his aides were seated in the verandah outside smoking in silence, and one of them handed us the passes which he had promised to procure; but when I told them that we intended to cross the long bridge that night, an unforeseen obstacle arose. The guards had been specially ordered to permit no person to cross between tattoo and daybreak who was not provided with the countersign; and without the express order of the General, no subordinate officer can communicate that countersign to a stranger. “Can you not ask the General?” “He is lying down asleep, and I dare not venture to disturb him.”
As I had all along intended to start before daybreak, this contretemps promised to be very embarrassing, and I ventured to suggest that General Scott would authorise the countersign to be given when he awoke. But the aide-de-camp shook his head, and I began to suspect from his manner and from that of his comrades that my visit to the army was not regarded with much favour—a view which was confirmed by one of them, who, by the way, was a civilian, for in a few minutes he said, “In fact, I would not advise Warre and you to go out there at all; they are a lot of volunteers and recruits, and we can’t say how they will behave. They may probably have to retreat. If I were you I would not be near them.” Of the five or six officers who sat in the verandah, not one spoke confidently or with the briskness which is usual when there is a chance of a brush with an enemy.
As it was impossible to force the point, we had to retire, and I went once more to the horse dealer’s, where I inspected the vehicle and the quadrupeds destined to draw it. I had spied in a stall a likely looking Kentuckian nag, nearly black, light, but strong, and full of fire, with an undertaker’s tail and something of a mane to match, which the groom assured me I could not even look at, as it was bespoke by an officer; but after a little strategy I prevailed on the proprietor to hire it to me for the day, as well as a boy, who was to ride it after the gig till we came to Centreville. My little experience in such scenes decided me to secure a saddle horse. I knew it would be impossible to see anything of the action from a gig; that the roads would be blocked up by commissariat waggons, ammunition reserves, and that in case of anything serious taking place, I should be deprived of the chance of participating after the manner of my vocation in the engagement, and of witnessing its incidents. As it was not incumbent on my companion to approach so closely to the scene of action, he could proceed in the vehicle to the most convenient point, and then walk as far as he liked, and return when he pleased; but from the injuries I had sustained in the Indian campaign, I could not walk very far. It was finally settled that the gig, with two horses and the saddle horse ridden by a negro boy, should be at my door as soon after daybreak as we could pass the Long Bridge.
I returned to my lodgings, laid out an old pair of Indian boots, cords, a Himalayan suit, an old felt hat, a flask, revolver, and belt. It was very late when I got in, and I relied on my German landlady to procure some commissariat stores; but she declared the whole extent of her means would only furnish some slices of bread, with intercostal layers of stale ham and mouldy Bologna sausage. I was forced to be content, and got to bed after midnight, and slept, having first arranged that in case of my being very late next night a trustworthy Englishman should be sent for, who would carry my letters from Washington to Boston in time for the mail which leaves on Wednesday. My mind had been so much occupied with the coming event that I slept uneasily, and once or twice I started up, fancying I was called. The moon shone in through the mosquito curtains of my bed, and just ere daybreak I was aroused by some noise in the adjoining room, and looking out, in a half dreamy state, imagined I saw General M’Dowell standing at the table, on which a candle was burning low, so distinctly that I woke up with the words, “General, is that you?” Nor did I convince myself it was a dream till I had walked into the room.
Joseph Howland writes from Camp near Centreville.
July 20th.
We march at 6 p. m., and there will be a great battle within twenty-four hours unless the rebels retreat. Our brigade takes the advance on the left wing. We can see the enemy from a high hill near here concentrating their troops. Our pickets were firing all night, and we slept on our arms. I am well, though I feel the want of sleep and the constant anxiety. We are all in good heart, officers and men.
SATURDAY 20
I have been about the office writing letters &c most of the day. Saw Doct Smith this morning. He insists that I shall be re-instated. The excitement in the City is great as the two Armies are now near each other and a decisive battle must take place — in a day or two. A number of Congressmen have gone over to the Army today, as yesterday Congress adjourned over till Monday. It is understood that there has been no fighting today.
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The three diary manuscript volumes, Washington during the Civil War: The Diary of Horatio Nelson Taft, 1861-1865, are available online at The Library of Congress.
July 19th and 20th.—Nothing worthy of especial mention the last two days; reports say the rebels are seventy thousand strong, with ten thousand additional men near at hand, strongly posted behind the run, with all commanding points well fortified. We have made many reconnoisances and find the enemy’s position in front and left too strong for direct attack and so the plan now is to move the bulk of the army, under cover of the thick woods, to the right, and attack in earnest; in the mean time, making demonstrations directly in front, and on the left, with force enough to take advantage of any weakness that may be discovered. All the preliminary arrangements are made, and we are entirely prepared. Saturday night taps sounded as usual at nine o’clock and we all tucked ourselves under the blankets and lay down for a good night’s sleep; we had hardly got comfortably fixed, when we were ordered to get up and fall in silently. We got up wondering what was the occasion of this nocturnal disturbance, but quietly rolled and slung our blankets, fell into line, and answered to the roll call. We were ready to start by twelve o’clock but those ahead of us did not get out of our way till nearly two o’clock, so we sat down in the ranks and waited our turn. It was a brilliant moonlight night, and we could see the long line of flashing bayonets filing off to the right, looking like an immense silver sea serpent. From Centreville to Fairfax court house, all the troops were in motion, and where an hour before everything was quiet and still, now the ground trembled with the tramp of armed men, and innumerable horses. We stepped out promptly at last, glad to be in motion,; taking the Warrington road through Centreville, we marched some distance, then turned off to the northward, on a wood road, and were hid from view by the dark, gloomy shadows of a pine forest. Everyone knew the object of the movement, and was anxious to get well in rear of the rebel left before daylight, and take him by surprise. For nearly three hours, our march lay through the dark pines; finally about break of day, we emerged into open fields, and saw away off to the front and right the Bull Run and Blue Ridge mountains, with pleasant fields, and shady woods, laying quietly at their feet. It was so still and peaceful that it was hard to believe this beautiful Sunday morning we were going to fight a battle.
We halted now awhile, giving the stragglers a chance to come up, and all of us a much needed rest, as we were very much fatigued, besides being hungry, and longed to make some coffee, but the orders were imperative, no fires! no noise! very shortly, several shots were fired directly in our front, the bugles sounded the assembly and we fell in; the First and Second Rhode Island regiments were deployed in line of battle, and with a regiment of regular cavalry out as flankers, and several companies of infantry deployed as skirmishers in front advanced in the direction of the firing, we following in column, well closed up, a short distance in rear, a battery moving immediately in our front. The stately and well ordered advance to our first battle was most impressive. Not a word was spoken, every man busy with his own emotions and trying to do his duty.
July 20.—R. P. arrived to-night from Norfolk. He passed Manassas yesterday, and saw J. very busy with the wounded. The fight of the 18th quite severe; the enemy were very decidedly repulsed; but another battle is imminent. We were shocked by the death of Major C. Harrison. J. wrote to his father. He fears to-morrow may be a bloody Sabbath. Oh, that Providence would now interpose and prevent further bloodshed! Oh, that strength may be given to our men. Let not the enemy overcome them. Oh, God of Nations! have mercy on the South!
The fight on Thursday lasted several hours; our loss was fifteen killed, about forty wounded; in all about eighty to eighty-five missing. It is believed that at least 900 of the enemy were left on the field; 150 of their slightly wounded have been sent to Richmond as prisoners. Their severely wounded are in the hands of our surgeons at Manassas.
JULY 20TH.—The Secretary works too much—or rather does not economize his labor. He procrastinates final action; and hence his work, never being disposed of, is always increasing in volume. Why does he procrastinate? Can it be that his hesitation is caused by the advice of the President, in his great solicitude to make the best appointments? We have talent enough in the South to officer millions of men. Mr. Walker is a man of capacity, and has a most extraordinary recollection of details. But I fear his nerves are too finely strung for the official tread-mill. I heard him say yesterday, with a sigh, that no gentleman can be fit for office. Well, Mr. Walker is a gentleman by education and instincts; and is fastidiously tenacious of what is due a gentleman. Will his official life be a long one? I know one thing—there are several aspiring dignitaries waiting impatiently for his shoes. But those who expect to reach the Presidency by a successful administration of any of the departments, or by the bestowal of patronage, are laboring under an egregious error. None but generals will get the Imperial purple for the next twenty years —if indeed the prematurely made “permanent” government should be permanent.
—This day the rebel Congress met at Richmond, Va., and received the message of Jefferson Davis, in which he congratulated the Congress upon the accession to the Southern Confederacy since his last message of the States of North Carolina, Tennessee, Virginia, and Arkansas.—(Doc. 109)
—A Correspondent with the army under General Patterson, at Charlestown, Va., writes under this date as follows: In consequence of complaints from numerous commanders that their men were without shoes, clothing, and other necessaries, and could not be now supplied, as the time for which they had been sworn in was nearly expired, General Patterson visited the different brigades, and plead earnestly with the men to stand by him, for the love of their country and the honor of our flag, for a few days longer, but failed to gain support —The good behavior of the soldiers is having an excellent effect upon the townspeople. Many of the families were prepared to leave on the arrival of the army, but are now going to remain, feeling that their property and persons are secure.—Three members of the New York Ninth Regiment yesterday arrested Lieut. Harlett, of the rebel cavalry force, -while secreted in a house here. This officer is said to have commanded the troops that fired from Harper’s Ferry upon Colonel Stone’s brigade when passing opposite that point,—The jail where John Brown was imprisoned, and the scene of his execution, are constantly visited by our volunteers. Captain McMullen’s Rangers have found numerous secreted arms.—A mail bag belonging to our army, and filled with matter, has been found here. Indications show it to have been stolen, while on the way to Martinsburg, a week since.—Major Ledlie, of the New York Nineteenth Regiment, this morning at 1 o’clock, was fired on, when making the guard rounds, by a rebel named Welch. The latter was arrested, and his arms taken from him. Welch says, in excuse, that he did not see Ledlie, but hearing a noise thought foxes were robbing his roosts.—The Indiana Eleventh Regiment, Col. Wallace, marched to head-quarters to-day, and informed General Patterson of their willingness to serve ten days extra.—Baltimore American, July 23.
July 19th.—I rose early this morning in order to prepare for contingencies and to see off Captain Johnson, who was about to start with despatches for New York, containing, no doubt, the intelligence that the Federal troops had advanced against the enemy. Yesterday was so hot that officers and men on the field suffered from something like sun-stroke. To unaccustomed frames to-day the heat felt unsupportable. A troop of regular cavalry, riding through the street at an early hour, were so exhausted, horse and man, that a runaway cab could have bowled them over like nine pins.
I hastened to General Scott’s quarters, which were besieged by civilians outside and full of orderlies and officers within. Mr. Cobden would be delighted with the republican simplicity of the Commander-in-Chief’s establishment, though it did not strike me as being very cheap at the money on such an occasion. It consists, in fact, of a small three-storied brick house, the parlours on the ground floor being occupied by subordinates, the small front room on the first floor being appropriated to General Scott himself, the smaller back room being devoted to his staff, and two rooms up-stairs most probably being in possession of waste papers and the guardians of the mansion. The walls are covered with maps of the coarsest description, and with rough plans and drawings, which afford information and amusement to the orderlies and the stray aide-de-camps. “Did you ever hear anything so disgraceful in your life as the stories which are going about of the affair yesterday?” said Colonel Cullum. “I assure you it was the smallest affair possible, although the story goes that we have lost thousands of men. Our total loss is under ninety—killed, wounded, and missing; and I regret to say nearly one-third of the whole are under the latter head.” “However that may he, Colonel,” said I, “it will be difficult to believe your statement after the columns of type which appear in the papers here.” “Oh! Who minds what they say?” “You will admit, at any rate, that the retreat of these undisciplined troops from an encounter with the enemy will have a bad effect.” “Well, I suppose that’s likely enough, but it will soon he swept away in the excitement of a general advance. General Scott, having determined to attack the enemy, will not halt now, and I am going over to Brigadier M’Dowell to examine the ground and see what is best to be done.” On leaving the room two officers came out of General Scott’s apartment; one of them said, “Why, Colonel, he’s not half the man I thought him. Well, any way he’ll be better there than M’Dowell. If old Scott had legs he’s good for a big thing yet.”
For hours I went horse-hunting; but Rothschild himself, even the hunting Baron, could not have got a steed. In Pennsylvania Avenue the people were standing in the shade under the selanthus trees, speculating on the news brought by dusty orderlies, or on the ideas of passing Congress men. A party of captured Confederates, on their march to General Mansfield’s quarters, created intense interest, and I followed them to the house, and went up to see the General, whilst the prisoners sat down on the pavement and steps outside. Notwithstanding his affectation of calm and self-possession, General Mansfield, who was charged with the defence of the town, was visibly perturbed. “These things, sir,” said he, “happen in Europe too. If the capital should fall into the hands of the rebels the United States will be no more destroyed than they were when you burned it.” From an expression he let fall, I inferred he did not very well know what to do with his prisoners. “Rebels taken in arms in Europe are generally hung or blown away from guns, I believe; but we are more merciful.” General Mansfield evidently wished to be spared the embarrassment of dealing with prisoners.
I dined at a restaurant kept by one Boulanger, a Frenchman, who utilised the swarms of flies infesting his premises by combining masses of them with his soup and made dishes. At an adjoining table were a lanky boy in a lieutenant’s uniform, a private soldier, and a man in plain clothes; and for the edification of the two latter the warrior youth was detailing the most remarkable stories, in the Munchausen style, ear ever heard. “Well, sir, I tell you, when his head fell off on the ground, his eyes shut and opened twice, and his tongue came out with an expression as if he wanted to say something.” “There were seven balls through my coat, and it was all so spiled with blood and powder, I took it off and threw it in the road. When the boys were burying the dead, I saw this coat on a chap who had been just smothered by the weight of the killed and wounded on the top of him, and I says, ‘Boys, give me that coat; it will just do for me with the same rank; and there is no use in putting good cloth on a dead body.’” “And how many do you suppose was killed, Lieutenant?” “Well, sir! it’s my honest belief, I tell you, there was not less than 5000 of our boys, and it may be twice as many of the enemy, or more; they were all shot down just like pigeons; you might walk for five rods by the side of the Run, and not be able to put your foot on the ground.” “The dead was that thick?” “No, but the dead and the wounded together.” No incredulity in the hearers—all swallowed: possibly disgorged into the note-book of a Washington contributor.
After dinner I walked over with Lieutenant H. Wise, inspected a model of Steven’s ram, which appears to me an utter impossibility in face of the iron-clad embrasured fleet now coming up to view, though it is spoken of highly by some naval officers and by many politicians. For years their papers have been indulging in mysterious volcanic puffs from the great centre of nothingness as to this secret and tremendous war-engine, which was surrounded by walls of all kinds, and only to be let out on the world when the Great Republic in its might had resolved to sweep everything off the seas. And lo! it is an abortive ram! Los Gringos went home, and I paid a visit to a family whose daughters—bright-eyed, pretty, and clever—were seated out on the door-steps amid the lightning flashes, one of them, at least, dreaming with open eyes of a young artillery officer then sleeping among his guns, probably, in front of Fairfax Court House.
