Chapter 2

The bullets began to whistle uncomfortably thick, and I gave up the search for my horse, and rejoined the battery, then moving along the road in good order, in which condition it continued until the head of the column reached the foot of the hill at the base of which flowed what is known as Cub Run. Here was a bridge rendered impassable by the wrecks of several baggage wagons. In the ford at the left was an overturned siege gun, completely blocking up that passage, and the right ford was completely filled with troops and wagons. Of course the leading team of the battery had to halt, and it was impossible to stop the rear carriages on the steep hill, so that the column became only a jumbled heap of horses, limbers, caissons and gun carriages. To add to the confusion, just at this moment a rebel battery in our rear opened fire, and it seemed as if every one of their shots came down into our very midst. The men immediately set to work taking the horses from their harnesses, after doing which they mounted upon them in the most lively manner. Some horses carried only a single passenger, others had on their backs doublets and some triplets. Still, notwithstanding all this confusion, there did not seem to me to be what has been almost universally reported, "a perfect panic." It appeared to me only that confusion which of necessity must arise from the sudden breaking up of organization.

I forded the run on the right hand, or down stream side of the bridge. Going up the hill after crossing, I overtook Captain Reynolds who crossed a little in advance of me, and just as I rode along side of him, a shot from the enemy's artillery struck the ground only a few feet from us. Unsophisticated as I was, I could not understand why they should continue to fire upon us when we were doing the best that we could to let them alone, and I said to Captain Reynolds, "What do you suppose they are trying to do?" His reply was a characteristic one: "They are trying to kill every mother's son of us; that is what they are trying to do," the truth of which was very forcibly impressed upon me as shot after shot came screeching after us in rapid succession.

After getting beyond range of their lire, each one exerted himself to get together as many members of the battery as possible, and upon reaching Centreville all who had collected together assembled at the house of Mr. Utteback, which we had left in the morning. Captain Reynolds and most of the others, took up their quarters on the stoop or piazza of the house. I was suffering severely from a lame leg, which had been injured during the action by the recoil of a piece, and having won the good graces of the family during our stay there, I asked for more comfortable quarters, and was given a nice bed. About two o'clock in the morning, I was awakened and informed that orders had been received to leave for Washington at once. While I was dressing, one of the daughters of Mr. Utteback slipped into the room with a flask of wine which she handed to me with the remark, "I think you may need this before you reach Washington," and she added, "Don't, for Heaven's sake, tell anybody of it." The act was an extremely kind one, for from the moment of our arrival on the farm, every member of the family had been besieged for liquor of any kind, but they had persistently refused to furnish any, declaring that they had not a drop in the house. I concealed the flask under my vest and found its contents of great cheer and comfort during our long night ride.

Upon going out of the house to resume the march, I found, to my surprise, that some time during the night, private Scott (Charles V.) had arrived in camp with the piece that I had sent off the field under Sergeant Hammond for want of ammunition. Upon enquiring of Scott for the particulars of his becoming possessed of it, he informed me that he got strayed from the company, and while picking his way through the woods, came upon the piece with all or a portion of the horses still hitched to it. Calling upon some infantry men near by, who were also estray, he mounted one horse himself and directed them to mount the other horses, and together they took the piece to Centreville. Its advent was hailed with special delight by every member of the battery. Sergeant Hammond told me that he followed his instructions to the letter; that after directing his cannoneers to serve with the other pieces, he took the piece well to the rear and sought an obscure, and, as he thought, a secure place, and with his drivers remained by it awaiting orders. During the afternoon some cavalry appeared in their near vicinity, and supposing them to be rebel cavalry, they fled, knowing that if they attempted to take the piece with them, it would be captured and they would certainly be taken with it. It is highly probable that the cavalry they saw were a part of our own forces, but such had been the rumors and talk of rebel cavalry, its efficiency and the terrible work it was capable of performing, that the appearance of even a solitary horseman was enough to strike terror to the hearts of half a dozen ordinary men. Sergeant Hammond and his drivers rejoined the company at Centreville, assumed command of his piece, and took it to Washington with the company.[2]

We reached Fort Runyon about six o'clock in the morning, but no troops were allowed to cross Long Bridge. I remember seeing Colonel Burnside about daylight that morning, pushing forward all alone, considerably in advance of the main column. Occasionally he would stop and look back as if to assure himself that all was right in that direction, as far as it could be right; then he would again push forward. About ten o'clock it became plain that he was looking out for the welfare of his command both in front and rear, for an order was received to allow Colonel Burnside's brigade to cross the bridge, the first who were allowed the privilege of returning to the camps that they had left and which seemed to them like home. In passing through the streets of Washington to our Camp Clark the sidewalks were lined with people, many of whom furnished us with refreshments.

The act of private Scott was finally rewarded by the bestowing upon him a commission as Second Lieutenant, in 1864. The piece was presented by the General Assembly of the State of Rhode Island to Governor Sprague, who placed it in trust with the Providence Marine Corps of Artillery, in whose armory it is now kept.

THIS PAPER WAS READ BEFORE THE RHODE ISLAND SOLDIERS AND SAILORS HISTORICAL SOCIETY, DECEMBER FIRST, 1875.

Footnotes:

[1] At the conclusion of the reading of this paper, Governor Sprague and William A. Sabin, formerly a member of the battery, gave it as their recollection that the stock of the gun carriage broke on account of the extreme elevation of the gun, and that it was not hit by the enemy's shot; but a letter of mine, written after the battle, implies that the gun carriage was struck by a shot.

[2] This account of the saving of the one piece from capture, does not agree with the statement in Stone's "Rhode Island in the Rebellion," 1864, nor with the "Adjutant General's Report, State of Rhode Island, 1865," which repeats the statement of Mr. Stone. The testimony of Sergeant Hammond is herewith subjoined, also that of Captain Charles D. Owen:

The account given by Colonel Monroe, of the manner in which was saved from capture one of the pieces of his section, at the first battle of Bull Run, of which piece I was sergeant, is substantially correct.

JOHN H. HAMMOND, _Formerly Sergeant Battery A, First R. I. L. A., Late Lieutenant H. G., R. I. V._

To the best of my recollection the account as given by Colonel Monroe is correct.

CHAS. D. OWEN, _Formerly Sergeant Battery A, R. I. L. A., Late Captain Battery G, R. I. L. A._

Transcriber's Note:

Both "day-break" and "daybreak" appear on page 12 in the original text.