Union soldiers at the dedication of a Federal war memorial on Henry House Hill in June 1865. (Library of Congress | CLICK ON ALL IMAGES TO ENLARGE.) |
"Riding north on the road to Sudley Springs one sees the clearly marked outlines of a fort in a cornfield, and, passing further, the eye is attracted by the beautiful line of the Blue Ridge far away to the northwest," Morgan wrote in a Page 1 story published in the Times on July 11, 1881. He described the immediate area near the Bull Run battlefield as a "pleasant country of farms."
In 1881-82, Morgan lived a charmed life as a reporter, touring Civil War battlefields at Franklin, Cold Harbor, Chickamauga, Lookout Mountain and elsewhere. The ugly effects of war -- bullet-scarred trees, earthworks and entrenchments -- were often evident. Morgan discovered evidence of the human toll, too. In the woods at Chickamauga, the reporter and his guide found a pair of skulls, undoubtedly victims of the September 1863 battle. Morgan's descriptive accounts of his battlefield trips were published in the Times and other U.S. newspapers, including The National Tribune, a popular publication for Civil War veterans.
At Bull Run, Morgan was fortunate to have an excellent guide: the man who lived on Henry House Hill, the heart of the battlefield. A former slave named Shedrick, who said he was a witness to Bull Run's aftermath, served as Morgan's driver. Here's the correspondent's complete Bull Run account, written nearly 20 years after the first Civil War battle was fought there on July 21, 1861:
Special Correspondence of The Times
MANASSAS, Va. July 9
The lapse of twenty years has left the fields and wooded hills upon which the Battle of Bull Run was fought much as they were when on that hot Sunday in July, 1861, the young armies of the people for the first time joined in combat. At this spot this month twenty years ago the raw nucleus of the Grand Army of the Potomac fell upon the equally undisciplined enemy and forced him through thick woods, across ravines, on hillsides and into what promised to be utter rout, but accident of war turned the tide of battle and under vigorous counter-attack the assailants fled dismayed to the banks of the Potomac. What the writer wishes to set down in plain terms is the appearance of the battle-field now and the impression that the surroundings make upon an admirer of those who fought.
Bull Bun is best reached from Manassas village, a pretty place, which shelters snugly on level land a few hundred people, who, being at a point on the Virginia Midland Railroad, thirty miles west of Washington, take the trade of the country for a considerable distance around. Riding north on the road to Sudley Springs one sees the clearly marked outlines of a fort in a cornfield, and, passing further, the eye is attracted by the beautiful line of the Blue Ridge far away to the northwest. At the end of a six-mile trot through a pleasant country of farms, the most interesting part of the battlefield, Henry Hill, is reached.
The field's key-point
A war-time image of the ruins of the original Henry House. (Library of Congress) |
"Coase I wuz heah just arter de fightin'," said Shedrick, the darkey driver, as we climbed the hillside road to the house; "'coase I wuz, en I seed moah dead uns stretched stiff in dat ar oat field ober dar den I eber seed afore nor sence. Dar's Mars Henry, he kin tell ye."
Under the elm sat an elderly gentleman bending over what I afterwards saw were Latin textbooks. His soft hand, heartily extended, pointed as a sure index to its owner as one concerned with the windrows of learning rather than with those long lines of fallen grain in the trail of the reaper which at that moment was seen swinging slowly down a distant Fairfax hill. From the warmth of his welcome Mr. [Hugh Fauntleroy] Henry, who is a professor in the Alexandria Academy, soon made his visitor feel in its fullness that which has been so much praised -- the hospitality of the old-time Virginian.
A glance from a hilltop
Henry Hill during First Bull Run. (Click at upper right for full-screen experience.)
William Sherman |
Confederate Colonel Barnard Bee, mortally wounded at Bull Run. |
Where Jackson became 'Stonewall'
As he talked Mr. Henry led his visitor beyond the lawn into a field where grew long grass, daisies, dandelions, dock weeds, blue thistle and thickly-matted blackberry briars. Slightly in advance and at the further edge of the field was a line of young pines which have sprung up since the battle, making the field narrower now than it was then. Beyond this growth of small pines stretches a wide belt of oak timber, then standing. Eating blackberries as we walked along we came to a slight ridge near the woods. It needed no one to explain that this was where Jackson stood "like a stone wall." From this spot, where his horse's hoofs made their memorable mark, I could trace, by the red road-bed leading to Sudley Springs, one line of Federal approach, and immediately below, in the little valley of Young's Branch, I could see the Warrenton pike that brought Union help from the Stone bridge across Bull Run. Far away in beautiful undulations roll pleasant fields and sternly in the background still grow the very oaks that once were bruised and shattered in the shock of battle.
Battle-field fancies
A group of mostly civilians at the June 1865 dedication of the Federal war memorial at Bull Run. (Library of Congress) |
Bee is in sore extremity. His face is streaked with the smut of powder. His eyes are wild. His sword is in constant motion above his head. His voice is husky, for shouts of command long since gave place to whispers of entreaty. Over the field he comes in search of his badly-smitten runaways.
"General," he exclaims, reaching Jackson, "they are beating us back."
"Sir," replies Jackson, "we will give them the bayonet."
Again Bee's sword waves encouragement to his troops, and in a rain of bullets he runs forward, saying to some who are with him: "There is Jackson, standing like a stone wall!"
Instantly thereafter Bee smites his breast, and, stumbling, falls backward upon clump of briars. To and fro across his body fly the bits of lead, regiment meets regiment in fierce charge and the thick of the fight is on. A dozen rocks in the midst of a tangle of pine bush mark the spot where Bee died, and a few steps distant a similar mound designates the place of Barton's fall. One conviction forces itself upon the visitor who walks from point to point in this field -- that the people never have done justice to the heroism of the Union soldiers who through no fault of their own lost the battle here.
"May I ask what has become of the hall In your house?" said General Sherman to Mr, Henry. "The house had to be rebuilt," was the reply, " and it was remodeled."
"I thought so," said Sherman, with a grim smile.
"I was in that hall, but it got too hot for me."
It is not pleasant for the gentleman who, with an aged sister, made deaf by the battle and so remaining now, occupies the Henry mansion to tell of the fighting in and around the house. In the graveyard grove is a tombstone with the inscription:
Killed near this spot by the explosion of shells in her dwelling - during the battle on the 21st of July, 1861, When killed she was in her 85th year and confined to her bed by infirmities of age. Her husband, Dr, Isaac Henry, was a surgeon in the United States Navy, on board the frigate Constellation.
A cropped enlargement of the Henry House Hill photo from June 1865 reveals the inscription on the war memorial. (Library of Congress) |
Great locust trees that then stood around the lawn wore broken off and swept down, and from their stumps the lesser locusts now standing have grown. In a grove ot these trees, on a grass-covered mound in the rear of the house, is monument of rough red granite, whereupon are scratched the names of visiting veterans. The shaft is capped with shells, one of which was hurled by "Long Tom" from Fairfax Heights far across Bull Run. Though the monument was put up by Union soldiers the bones of five Confederates are buried beneath. Pushing aside some hollyhocks, now in flower around the mound, I was able to read the inscription:
The Patriots
Who Fell at Bull Run,
July 21, 1861
Down at the Bridge
A war-time image of the Stone House at Bull Run astride the Warrenton Turnpike. (Library of Congress) |
"The Yankees retreated along this road after the fighting on the Henry farm, didn't they, Shedrick?"
"I's free to say, sir, dat day kind o' made fur de bridge."
"But didn't they run?"
"No, sah; when de rebels got de Union gemmon on the go back dey kind o' went along dis road toards de bridge. '
"But what's the difference between 'on the run and 'on the go back'?"
"Heap o' difference, sah, heap o' difference."
This cute distinction appeared to tickle Shedrick, who, at the time of the battle, was a slave and who, in his respect for the North, could not be induced to admit that those who set him free were driven in wild flight across the bridge now before our very eyes. Tho bridge looks old, but steadfast. A wall of stone is on either side and the road-bed on the bridge is of red clay, just as on the pike itself. The stream that passes under the bridge is now narrow and sluggish, but a rain storm sends the waters roaring down between the high walls of red rock and the dry undergrowth of summer in the run's race track is frequently submerged. To the east is Fairfax county, filled upon this side with fields and thick woods, in the depths of which the bones of men and horses are found to this day. To the west, along the road that took us thither, stretch the undulating lands of Prince William county. Things are somewhat desolate at the bridge, but it is a novelty to sit on the stone buttress and read of war's deadly doings while from the dank grass and dark water below the bull-frog mocks the drum.
Where the Porter trouble began
Union General Fitz-John Porter. |
The Fitz John Porter case has caused a number of army officers to visit the Henry House and some adjacent points recently, and not long ago General Warren passed several days in the vicinity preparing maps for use in the trial. The people of the vicinity are interested in the development of the case, almost all taking sides with Porter, who, as a Manassas man put it, "is merely the scapegoat of a lost battle."
A year or so ago Senator Don Cameron found himself at the Henry farm, and, having examined the two battlefields, he said to Mr. Henry: "What will you take for your property? I've a notion to buy it." The reply was that the spot was too dear to be bought: a place full of pitiful memories for the owner and of sad reflection for the friends of those whose gathered ashes rest at Arlington.
G.M
Powerful storytelling and a great history lesson John. Thanks for posting.
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed reading this one John - liked Shedrick's term "heap o' difference"
ReplyDeleteGod rest the old soldiers of both Blue & Gray who never made it back home , for which those Monuments were erected in their memory for closure. it Hurts my soul to see the Desecration of our history. God Bless
ReplyDelete