History of The Battle of Ball’s Bluff
The popular idea at the time, and which has continued until now, is that the battle of Ball’s Bluff was a blunder, brought about by the Federal commander without proper (although easily to be obtained) information as to the force and position of the Confederates in the vicinity of Leesburg, and almost without purpose, or prospect of advantage, worth the venture, resulting from success should he win, and that the Confederate commander permitted his troops to engage, in a rather haphazard way, by companies and regiments, pretty much as they pleased.
But in the light of subsequent events, and by aid of the Official Records of the so-called “War of the Rebellion,” we learn that both commanders, Gen. Charles P. Stone, of the Federals and[1] Gen. N. G. Evans, of the Confederates, had really well-defined purposes and plans, and played the game with skill and intelligence on both sides.
It was General Stone’s purpose to cross the Potomac at two points, making a heavy display of force at Edwards’ Ferry, holding General Evans’ attention at that point in his front while making his real attack on the extreme left of the Confederate position, rolling back the small contingent of scouts and pickets about Smart’s Mill and turning the flank of Evans, which would compel a retreat, with Gorman’s brigade to cut him off, and at the same time General McCall’s force about Dranesville, on the Alexandria pike, only a short march away, making a possible combination of at least eighteen thousand men against Evans’ two thousand, with no support nearer than Manassas and Centreville; and moreover, General Stone had further aid in close call on the Maryland side of the river, under Generals Banks and Hamilton, so that when his main attack at the Bluff, with a force more than equal to Evans’ whole command, was made as a surprise, the game was his own, by all the rules of tactics and strategy.
General Evans had the evident advantage of his adversary in generalship, and had proven his claim to the pastmaster’s degree in the same situation at the first Manassas, just three months before, where he held the extreme left of Beauregard’s line at the Stone Bridge, and where McDowell applied the same tactics as did Stone on the Potomac.
There, as here, the Federals in heavy force demonstrated on Evans’ front at the bridge while moving for the main attack by way of Sudley, far beyond his left, and there their busy delay at the bridge, as here at Edward’s Ferry, caused him to look elsewhere for work, which he soon found to the left.
So, leaving a few companies to amuse General Tyler on the turnpike, just as he held the artillery and nine companies of the Thirteenth Mississippi in front of Fort Evans, he hurried his main force to meet the attack on his left.
We learned later that our general knew his business, and why he made his battle by detail, as it seemed to us then, and General Beauregard’s instructions give us the reason why he fought here at all.
General Evans’ judgement was against giving battle at Leesburg, where all the chances seemed against him, and a few days before he had withdrawn his troops to a strong position at Carter’s Mills,[2] seven miles off on the road towards his only support at Manassas.
Upon reporting his movement to Beauregard, that officer gave him further light on the situation, in the following interesting document:
“HD. QRS. FIRST CORPS, ARMY OF THE POTOMAC,
NEAR CENTREVILLE, October 17, 1861”
“COLONEL: Your note of this date has been laid before the General, who wishes to be informed of the reason that influenced you to take up your present position, as you omit to inform him. The point you occupy is understood to be very strong, and the General hopes you may be able to maintain it against odds should the enemy press across the river and move in this direction.
“To prevent such a movement, and junction of Banks’ forces with McClellan’s, is of the utmost military importance, and you will be expected to make a desperate stand, falling back only in the face of an overwhelming enemy.
“In case, unfortunately, you should be obliged to retire, march on this point and effect a junction with this corps.
“If you still deem it best to remain at Carter’s Mill the General desires you to maintain possession of Leesburg, as an outpost, by a regiment without baggage or tents, and to be relieved every three or four days. As you may be aware, this army has taken up a line of triangular shape, with Centreville as the salient, one side running to Union Mills, the other to Stone Bridge, with outposts of regiments three or four miles in advance in all directions, and cavalry pickets yet in advance as far as Fairfax Court House.
“Respectfully, your obedient servant,
THOMAS JORDAN,
Assistant Adjutant General.
“Col. N. G. Evans,
“Commanding at Leesburg, Va.”
We can now understand something of the importance of General Evans holding on hard at Leesburg, keeping the left flank of the army protect while it confronted General McClellan’s people before Washington; and there is nothing which has a more demoralizing military effect than that one fatal word—“flanked.”
General Evans had now under his command the Eighth Virginia Regiment under Col. Eppa Hunton, who had occupied Leesburg shortly after the battle of July 21st, joined later by three Mississippi regiments, viz., the Thirteenth, Col. Wm. Barksdale; Seventeenth, Col. W. S. Featherstone; Eighteenth, Col. E. R. Burt, which, together with six guns of the Richmond Howitzer Battalion and four companies of cavalry commanded by Lieut. Col. W. H. Jenifer, made up the Seventh Brigade of General Beauregard’s corps.
Immediately on receipt of the above order General Evans prepared to march, and on the night of the 19th moved his brigade to the burnt bridge[3] on the Alexandria pike, four miles east of Leesburg, and only eight miles from General McCall’s position at Dranesville.
The next morning, Sunday, a courier of McCall’s bearing orders to General Meade to examine the roads leading to Leesburg was captured, and from this prisoner General Evans learned the position and purpose of the enemy at Dranesville. Heavy cannonading had been going on during the night from batteries on the Maryland hills, which continued throughout the day, Sunday, and General Stone developed his purpose to make the very movement indicated in Beauregard’s dispatch, in doing which he sent Gen. W. A. Gorman’s brigade of infantry, having cavalry and artillery in support, over the river at Edward’s Ferry, making reconnaissance toward Leesburg.
That night he sent a scouting party under Captain Phiebrick,[4] of twenty men of the Fifteenth Massachusetts Infantry, to cross at Harrison’s Island[5] and explore towards the town from that direction.
This party did not long delay in Virginia, but returned to Headquarters by 10 o’clock p.m., reporting that they had proceeded unmolested to within one mile of Leesburg, discovering a camp of about thirty tents in the edge of a woods, approaching it within 25 rods unchallenged.
General Stone now had all necessary information on which to base his brilliant strategy of holding Evans quiet in front of Edward’s Ferry with Gorman’s threatening force, while Colonel Baker made his brigade crossing at the island above, turning the Confederate left, forcing Evans to quick retreat to save his communications, while Gorman by a rapid advance would cut him off. Well planned, certainly, but Evans had been taking lessons.
Upon receipt of the report of his scouts General Stone ordered Colonel Devens, with four companies of his regiment, Fifteenth Massachusetts, to cross at the island and destroy the camp found by Captain Phiebrick, which order he proceeded to execute, but found the supposed tents an illusion, the scouts having been deceived by a line of trees, the opening through which presenting, in an uncertain light, somewhat the appearance of tents.
At 7 o’clock in the morning—the 21st—these enterprising gentlemen discovered Capt. W. L. Duff’s company (K, Seventeenth Mississippi) of forty men, who had been picketing the river about Smart’s Mill,[6] and arranged for their capture by putting Captain Phiebrick’s company at them in front, while two other companies were sent to outflank them and cut them off, but Duff and his men disregarded the “cut off.” They simply dropped on one knee, and when the enemy came, near enough (all the time answering Captain Duff’s challenge, “Who are you?” with the reply, “Friends”), fired a staggering volley into Deven’s three hundred, causing them also to disregard the “cut off” and retire to a better position, which they maintained for about twenty minutes, when they retreated to the thicket of woods on the right of the Jackson house.
Colonel Devens in his report says Captain Duff’s men at his first advance retreated to a corn-field and got into a ditch or trench—another illusion caused by their kneeling to take aim. Captain Duff reported his loss as one man seriously and two slightly wounded, capturing three wounded prisoners and fourteen or fifteen stands of arms, while Colonel Devens says he lost one killed, nine wounded, and two missing.
General Evans now sent Lieutenant-Colonel Jenifer with four companies of infantry, two from the Eighteenth and one each from the Seventeenth and Thirteenth Mississippi Regiments, and three companies of cavalry, Captain W. B. Ball, W. W. Mead, and Lieutenant Morehead, to support Captain Duff, making in all a force of 320 men on the battleground, while Colonel Devens reports his force strengthened to 753; and about 11 o’clock he again advanced, but was met in strong contention by Jenifer’s people for about an hour, when the Federals retired; and now was their best time to recross the river, for Hunton with his Eighth Virginia (except Wampler’s company, left at the burnt bridge to look out for McCall) was coming at a double-quick with 375 more people in bad temper.
But General Stone had not completed the development of his plan, and he again reinforced to 1,700—by the Twentieth Massachusetts, 340; Forty-second New York (Tammany), 360; First California (Colonel Baker’s own) 600, with two howitzers and one 6-pounder rifle gun. This looks by the figures given in official records like more than two thousand, but all other estimates put it at 1,700, about.
General Edward D. Baker[7] had now arrived and taken command of the Federal troops, making ready for a renewal of the conflict, and at 12:30 p.m. Colonel Hunton moved forward into the heavy timber, where Colonel Jenifer’s fight had left the Federals.
The battle opened again severely, the Virginians fighting straight ahead, with Jenifer’s force covering their left, which gave them opportunity for aggressive battle, although but one to three, with no artillery to answer the salutes of Baker’s guns.
The firing was rapid and the fighting stubborn, the Federals standing up to their work well, giving and receiving bloody blows with high courage; but, notwithstanding their superiority of force, amply sufficient to have swept the Confederates from the field at one rushing charge, they failed for lack of a proper leader, the result proving that Baker was as inferior to Hunton in skill and promptness on the battle line as was Stone to Evans in general conduct of the field operations.
The regimental and company officers did their duty well, but General Baker gave up almost without an effort the only strong military position on the field, and then so placed his reserves on rising ground immediately in view of his main line that Confederate lead, flying high, could find victims there.
It was well for Hunton, perhaps, that Devens[8] was not his antagonist, in view of the skillful, steady and hard fighting record subsequently made, when, as a cavalry commander, he gave Hampton, Fitz, Lee and Rosser a great deal of trouble; and withal he was a gallant gentleman, who, by considerate kindness, won the respect of Loudoun’s citizens while he camped his brigade among them the last winter of the war.
Colonel Baker was a chivalrous, high-toned gentleman, of fine attainments in politics and statesmanship, but, as was said of another, “God Almighty did not make him a general,” a lack which could not be supplied by a commission. Colonel Hunton saw and appreciated the advantage of the position which Baker had neglected, and steadying his line for the work, threw it in splendid aggressive battle—still one to three—against the volleying rifles and blazing cannon before him, sweeping infantry and artillery back to the bluff overhanging the river, where they staid, and the Confederates withdrew to the edge of the woods to rest and replenish cartridges for the final effort.
About 2:30 p.m. Colonel Hunton had sent me to General Evans to ask for reinforcements, but all I got was, “Tell Hunton to fight on.” Evans had now about taken Gorman’s measure and decided that the Edward’s Ferry force would not be dangerous so long as Fort Evans was held and his left at the Bluff hung on, and when, at 3:30, Hunton again sent me to the General to say that his ammunition was exhausted and unless reinforced he would be compelled to retire before superior numbers, Evans, evidently mindful of Beauregard’s instruction to make a “desperate stand,” said to me: “Tell Hunton to hold his ground till every d—m man falls. I HAVE sent him the Eighteenth and WILL send him the Seventeenth.”
On my return from the General I met a part of the Eighth Virginia, Lieutenant-Colonel Tebbs among them, retreating, and I asked what it meant, if Hunton was defeated, to which Colonel Tebbs replied: “I do not know, but Colonel Hunton ordered me to fall back.” They were about a quarter of a mile from where I had left Hunton’s line, and riding forward I gave the Colonel the General’s message, and asked him why he had ordered Tebbs and his men to fall back, informing him I had met them in retreat. He exclaimed: “Go tell Colonel Tebbs I only meant for him to fall back to the line; I did not intend him to retreat.”
I soon found Tebbs, told him what the General had said, and as soon as I could convince him of the intent of Hunton’s order, he went to work with all his fiery energy to rally and reform the men, in which I assisted as best I could, and we succeeded in getting most of them back, but some were running too fast to bother with, and Colonel Tebbs returned to the line and with the rallied men was in the last grand charge.
No reflection can be cast upon Colonel Tebbs’ reputation as a soldier for this error, because he honestly thought Colonel Hunton had ordered a retreat, and that he was strictly in the line of duty.
When I again joined Colonel Hunton the Eighteenth Mississippi had come up and taken position two hundred yards to the right and in line with the Eighth Virginia at the edge of the woods.
This was about 5 o’clock, and Colonel Hunton ordered me to go to Colonel Burt, tell him the Eighth Virginia would charge the enemy in front, and ask him to attack with his regiment at the same time to cover his right.
Colonel Burt delayed his movement a short time in order that I might bring in one of his companies which had been sent off to the right, and when this was done he moved his line forward, but we had already heard the battle yell of the glorious old Eighth as it dashed forward on the enemy.
The gallant Mississippians were no laggards, when the dauntless Burt gave the command “Forward!” All during the day they had been in front of Edward’s Ferry, watching the enemy there and listening to the guns of their comrades at the Bluff, until delay had chafed them, but now their time had come, and with the steady tread of veterans they marched over the field to the woods.
When in less than one hundred yards of the timber, the enemy concealed behind the ridge of earth thrown up by long-ago plowing around the field, and also favored by the descent of the ground, let loose upon them one of the most deadly fires of musketry it was my fortune to witness during the war.
In visions now I sometimes see those brave fellows falling like leaves of autumn before the northern blast, but no man faltered except the stricken ones, before that fearful fire.
Colonel Burt was riding close up to his regiment in rear of the line and I rode beside him on his right, giving us good view of our own men as well as the position of the enemy as marked by the flaming line of the deadly volley.
The gallant Burt was mortally wounded[9] and as two of his men were taking him from his horse he turned to me, and in a tone as calm as if in ordinary talk, said, “Go tell Colonel Jenifer I am wounded and shall have to leave the field.” Starting to obey, I found myself in that most trying situation for a soldier—having to turn my back to the foe while my comrades were facing him. We were all “green” then, and had a horrid dread of being shot in the back, much more particular than later, when experience had done its perfect work, and the “ear became more Irish and less nice.”
Turning in my saddle, face to the enemy, I rode rapidly and found Colonel Jenifer in a small cleared spot, half way through the woods, along the path to the island.
Quickly delivering my message I hurried back to the Eighteenth, finding it had driven the enemy from his position and been joined by the Seventeenth under Colonel Featherstone and moved further to the left, nearly connecting with Hunton’s right, about the edge of the woods.
Colonel Hunton’s people, including Captain Upshaus’ company of the Seventeenth and Captains Kearney and Welborn’s companies of the Eighteenth, had made their attack practically without ammunition—in fact, just prior to the charge the Colonel had ordered “Cease firing!” for a moment, and had the remaining cartridges equally distributed among the men, so that all could have a round, and then, relying almost solely upon the bayonet, they dashed forward, driving back a heavy column of the enemy just landed, and captured the two howitzers. After having driven them thus far into the woods, at which point General Baker was killed (pierced with four balls, no one knowing really who did it, although there was much romancing at the time), Colonel Hunton halted his men, who were completely broken down—nature and ammunition both exhausted—and rode over to Colonel Featherstone, saying, “Colonel, charge the enemy on the Bluff.” Featherstone replied, “I do not know the ground,” and Hunton exclaimed, “Come on, I will lead you.” But the Colonel demurred, saying: “No, sir; I will lead my own men, but want a guide who knows the ground,” when Hunton turned to me and said, “Lige, my boy, won’t you go with them?”
I was thoroughly acquainted with the country, having fox-hunted over it many times, and now, at sunset of a busy day, I rode to the front, shouting, “Follow me; I’ll show you the way.” The two regiments moved promptly a short distance, when they were met with a galling fire to which they heartily responded, and in a rushing charge drove the enemy headlong over the steep, rugged bluff, capturing three hundred prisoners, among them Colonel Coggswell of the Tammany Regiment,[10] but now acting brigadier general in place of the gallant Baker, and Col. U. R. Lee, Twentieth Massachusetts,[11] together with the rifle cannon; and now we had plenty of artillery of our own right on the ground.
During this part of the engagement an incident, not to be omitted, but a little out of the regular order of military science, occurred. Lieut. Chas. B. Wildman of Evans’ staff came on the field, and mistaking a part of the Federal line for our people, galloped to the front of the Tammany Regiment, and in the most peremptory and commanding manner ordered them to “Charge the enemy,” which they promptly did, supported by the Fifteenth Massachusetts, with disastrous results to themselves, losing about 25 men, killed and wounded. Among the latter was a captain to whom Captain Jones, Seventeenth Mississippi, shouted, “Who are you, and what do you mean?” whereupon the Federal officer rushed up to Jones and, grasping him by his long beard, exclaimed, “Who in the h—l are you?” when instantly one of Jones’ men struck the Federal captain on the head with his clubbed gun, killing him on the spot. By way of reminiscence for a bit, I will relate a little story. Thirty-two years after these things a party of Twentieth Massachusetts people came to Leesburg and requested me to guide them over the battleground where they and their comrades had fought so gallantly a generation before, and upon reaching the point of Featherstone’s attack, one of them called attention to an oak and said, “I was behind that tree when an officer on a white horse rode out there, leading a line of troops upon us, waving his hat and shouting, ‘Come on, follow me.’ I took aim and fired at him and then threw down my gun and ran for the river, for they were close on us. I don’t know whether I killed him or not.” I said to him, “No, thank God, you did not.” When he asked, “Are you the man?” and I replied, “I surely am,” he threw his arms around me and exclaimed, “I thank God, too.”
After the Federals had been driven over the Bluff and darkness had spread its pall over the bloody scene Colonel Hunton instructed me to ascertain if there was any organized force up river to our left, directing Captain R. H. Carter[12] to support me with his company; and now my intimate knowledge of the country stood us in good stead. As we moved to execute the order I requested Captain Carter to hold his command about a hundred yards in my rear so that I could use my ears to better advantage, and I was to whistle if I needed help.
I had proceeded but a short distance in the woods when I was halted with the demand, “Who comes there?” I knew from the tone and accent it was none of our people. I said, “Come here.” Walking close up to me I asked, “Who are you?” to which he replied, “New York Tammany regiment.” I said to him, “You are my prisoner, surrender,” but he was made of better metal, and stepping back a pace, with leveled rifle and bayonet presented, he exclaimed, “Never to any man,” and almost before the words were pronounced I pulled my trigger, but the pistol failed to fire, and then, but for the fact that I had captured from one of Lincoln’s bodyguards this very pistol, which could be fired almost as rapidly as counting, I would not now be telling this story, because that brave, cool Tammany man would have killed me, for he was in the act of doing so when I pulled off my pistol again and he fell to the ground a corpse.
His comrade fired, but missed, and lying down by the dead man I eagerly listened for further demonstration, but hearing none I crept back to Captain Carter.
We consulted for some time, finally reaching two conclusions—FIRST, that there was no organized force in the woods, else they would have manifested their presence; and SECOND, that this particular body of woods was at that time a most excellent place in which to get killed by the scattered Federals in hiding, assuming that this gallant Tammany man was a sample of them, and we reported promptly to Colonel Hunton, who ordered me to remain with Lieutenant Charles Berkeley, who, with a detail of seventeen men, had been instructed to picket the ground during the night.
The ladies of Leesburg sent us a most bountiful supper, which was most highly appreciated by our hungry soldiers, who for thirteen hours had been resisting and defending greatly superior numbers of brave but badly handled Federal troops, beginning at 7 o’clock in the morning and ending after dark.
Except Lieutenant Berkeley’s little party all our forces had retired to the vicinity of the Fort for rest and rations, and we took up our solemn vigil over the “dark and bloody ground.” It was presently suggested that we go to the river, for although our battle had rolled to the very edge of the Bluff, none of our people had been quite there. We moved quietly along in the dark, soon coming on two men sitting beside a woods, and we crossed over, where we left one man as guard and passed on, finding next a handsomely caparisoned horse entangled in the thicket, which we concluded to be the one ridden by General Baker, and this we sent back by another of our men.
Reaching the bank we sat down to listen, and heard a man struggling out in the river, crying, “Help, help, or I shall drown.” The agonized voice of the despairing wretch, as it rang out over the broad water, amid the stillness and darkness of inevitable death, conveyed to the mind an image of the horror which must weigh upon the heart of one doomed knowingly to eternal death. We could hear his strangling effort as he spouted the gurgling water from his mouth, and then another cry for help, answered this time by a voice calling from the gloom beyond, “Hold up a little longer, we are coming.” The first impulse, dictated by the desperate and savage experiences of the day, was to open fire and drive off his rescuers, but a more humane feeling prevailed, and we quietly listened, soon dimly discerning the boat rapidly approaching the Virginia shore, and landing two or three hundred yards above us, where the Federals had been crossing all day.
The space of beach or shore from the foot of the bluff to the water’s edge is about sixty yards wide, and after crossing from the island, the Federals had to go down the river the two hundred or more yards to reach the road leading up on the bluff.
This space was still strewn with dead and wounded men waiting removal or burial, so that when we moved up towards the landing place we found it difficult, in the deep darkness prevailing under the bluff, to avoid stepping on the bodies—in fact we did this frequently—those with life still in them always giving us notice of it.
Approaching the landing I suggested to Lieutenant Berkeley that he hold his men while I went forward alone to reconnoiter, which he did, and I walked up to the mass of people gathered about the landing. It was so dark they could not distinguish me from their own men, and making the best investigation I could, I reported to Berkeley that there were 1,500 of them.
Lieutenant Charley Berkeley had as brave a heart in him as any of the name, and when I say that, it means he was among the “bravest of the brave,” for no men ever did more gallant service, were more patriotically devoted to Old Virginia, or were more loyal to the Southern cause, and few there be in all our glorious Southland who suffered more to promote the success of that cause than those who bore the name of Berkeley.
On hearing my report the lieutenant said, “Don’t you think we can capture them?” Here was no “taking counsel of fear”—fifteen against fifteen hundred. I said I thought we could if we all would swear to go through or die, but there was some murmured objection with a few of our men, and one, a gallant fellow, afterwards killed in Pickett’s charge at Gettysburg, said the scheme was too utterly rash for consideration and he would not agree to it. It was then agreed that I should mount the captured horse, ride to the Eighth Virginia and ask them to come over and help us. Reaching their bivouac I found that Colonel Hunton, who had gotten up from his sickbed to be with his men in the battle, had retired to a house in town, leaving Lieutenant-Colonel Tebbs in command, and upon stating the situation to him and asking for the regiment, he said the men were so worn out with the exertions of the day that he would not order them for the expedition, but that if any chose to volunteer for it they might go.
Upon hearing this Captains Wm. N. and Edmund Berkeley; Lieutenants R. H. Tyler, L. B. Stephenson, and Robt. Cue; Sergeants F. Wilson, J. O. Adams, and ........ Gochenauer; Corporals B. Hurst, W. Fletcher, B. Hutchinson, Wm. Thomas; Privates A. S. Adams, J. W. Adams, F. A. Boyer, L. Chinn, G. Crell, R. S. Downs, W. Donnelly, G. Insor, C. R. Griffin, John George, D. L. Hixon, T. W. Hutchinson, J. F. Ish, R. I. Smith, W. C. Thomas, J. W. Tavenner, J. M. McVeigh, L. W. Luckett, M. H. Luckett, A. M. O’Baunon, Rev. Chas. F. Linthecuin, R. O. Carter, Geo. Roach, E. Nalls, Howard Trussell, D. Rouke, T. E. Tavenner, P. Gochenauer, F. Tinsman, T. H. Denton, T. Kdwiell, C. Fox, V. R. Costello, Will Moore, J. Ellis, Wm. McCarty, J. M. McClannehan, F. Herrington, R. Julian, and C. D. Luckett—in all fifty-two—came forward promptly, saying, “We will follow you.”
Moving back rapidly to Berkeley, we found he had come up on the Bluff, and as not a man among us except myself knew a foot of the ground, they unanimously made me their leader, and I placed Lieutenant Berkeley, with his original squad of a dozen, ON the bluff, to wait until the balance opened fire UNDER it, when he was to open rapidly, making all the noise possible and shouting every order and command he could think of.
The remainder of the party descended the bluff to the beach or shore, and when near the landing we heard the boat returning from the island. How many trips it had made in my absence I do not know, but the number of men on shore had very perceptibly diminished. Here I halted my little army, and having witnessed the confusion among the Federals at a previous landing, I instructed my men to wait until the boat reached the shore. As it came to land we moved forward, and when nearly up with them I called for a surrender, but receiving no reply I ordered “Fire!” and our guns blazed into them. There was a general stampede of those who were able, a large number of them jumping into the river, while some ran along the shore above.
All their officers who could do so had left these poor fellows to their fate some time before, except one, a gallant Irish captain of the California regiment, who had swum over to the island to try for some way to get his men over, but failing in that had swum the river back again to share the fate of his company. I think his name was O’Meara,[13] and he deserves the Medal of Honor. This brave gentleman called out, as a last resort in the wreck and confusion, “We surrender, who is in command?” Captain W. N. Berkeley replied, “General White,” and the Captain asked, “General White, what terms will you give us?”
My unofficial promotions this day had been much too rapid for my scant military knowledge, and for want of a more professional answer I replied, “The terms of war, sir;” which seemed to suit the captain, for his clear voice called, “Men, General White gives us the terms of war; come out of the river and surrender,” which they did, and then the brave fellow went up the river and brought back a number who had been in hiding there. When gathering them all together, he marched them up the bluff to the plateau where he formed them in line, and handed over to our charge three hundred and twenty-five prisoners, with many arms, ammunition, etc.
My untutored form of expressing terms granted may have seemed awkward to the better technically informed soldiers present, but I still think my proposition was as much to the point as that of “Stonewall” Jackson at Harpers Ferry or General Grant’s at Fort Donelson, to wit, “Unconditional surrender, sir.”
In regard to this night capture, the official reports of some officers, as published, are so misleading and inaccurate that I feel obliged to call attention to them, and especially that of Lieutenant-Colonel John McGuirk, Seventeenth Mississippi, found in Vol. V., Series 1, page 362, Official Records, which I would be glad for all who may see this little story, to read it, it being too voluminous to incorporate in this.
However, some allowance should be made for him, as we learn from his report that he was suffering under excessive fatigue, having been fifty-three hours in the saddle, breaking down one horse, having immediate supervision of all operations from Smart’s Mill to Edward’s Ferry during both days, taking many prisoners, guarding the battlefield all night, ending up on the night of 22d by having his last horse fall with and upon him, in Leesburg, producing a shock so serious that he was unable to remount without help, and finally having to be assisted from his horse and put to bed, with the heavy duty of having to prepare his report, so that General Evans might know just WHAT had been done and WHO did it, coming upon him before he had fully recovered. In view of all these things, we must admit that he made quite an interesting report, in which he says that “Mr. E. White, of Ashby’s Cavalry, entered the field with two companies of the Eighth Virginia and I joined my forces to his,” etc.
To vindicate the truth of history I here emphatically declare that there were no soldiers engaged in that capture—the greatest of the day—but those of the Eighth Virginia, except myself, who, at that time, belonged to Captain Mason’s company of Ashby’s Legion. I say this because it is the truth and that Lieut. Charles Berkeley, with the gallant band of the Eighth Virginia, who joined him in the enterprise, shall have the credit that belonged to them, Colonel Featherstone and Lieutenant Colonel McGuirk to the contrary notwithstanding, but I am well assured that Featherstone’s report is based upon McGuirk.
The story of Ball’s Bluff would be sadly incomplete if the operations of the game old Colonel Barksdale[14] and his noble regiment, the Thirteenth Mississippi, were omitted, because only by their splendid work in holding Gorman’s brigade quiet at Edward’s Ferry was Confederate victory made possible at the Bluff, and at one time he had begun his march to aid the boys at that point. But for Evans’ recall order the Thirteenth would have been among the Federals on the left, and at that time only a thin skirmish line with a few vedettes was all there was in front of Fort Evans and four thousand Federal troops. In the early days of the war there was one peculiar terror which often prevented Federal commanders from performing brilliant deeds, easy enough with their superiority in “men and metal,” and that was the astonishing crop of “masked batteries” planted in Southern forests and corn fields, which imaginary spectre was very potent here with Gorman’s men, holding them to the river bank for two days until Barksdale’s boys showed them their rearward crossing on the 22d in an attack conducted with great skill and daring, under the artillery fire from both sides of the river, killing and wounding about forty men. Had Evans supported this battle of Barksdale with his whole force, we have every reason to believe that Gorman would have been forced to surrender. Another instance of battlefield literature after the fact, is General McClellan’s order of thanks to his troops engaged in this battle; which leads us to wonder if the writer of “official reports” could have foreseen how they would read after the “clouds rolled by,” would they not have been more careful as to what they wrote? There is no harm, however, in this particular order except the General’s estimate of the Confederate strength.
GENERAL ORDER NO. 32.) HD. ORS. ARMY OF THE POTOMAC “WASHINGTON, Oct. 25, 1861.
“The Major General commanding the Army of the Potomac desires to offer his thanks, and to express his admiration of their conduct, to the officers and men of the detachments of the Fifteenth and Twentieth Massachusetts, First California, and Tammany regiments, First U. S. Artillery, and Rhode Island Battery, engaged in the affair of Monday last near Harrison’s Island. The gallantry and discipline displayed deserved a more fortunate result; but situated as those troops were, cut off alike from retreat and reinforcements, and attacked by an overwhelming force, 5,000 against 1,700, it was not possible that the issue could have been successful. Under happier auspices such devotion will insure victory. The general commanding feels increased confidence in General Stone’s division, and is sure that when they next meet the enemy they will retrieve this check, for which they are not accountable.
“By command of Major General McClellan.
“S. Williams,
“Asst. Adjt. General.”
The Confederate losses in the battle are accurately and easily verified:
18th Mississippi, 500 engaged; 22 killed; 63 wounded. 17th Mississippi, 600 engaged; 2 killed; 9 wounded. 13th Mississippi, ... engaged; 4 killed; 3 wounded. 8th Virginia, 375 engaged; 8 killed; 43 wounded.
Numbers engaged are taken from Lieutenant Colonel Jenifer’s report, and he makes none for the Thirteenth Mississippi, which was not engaged at the Bluff. He gives the number under his command in the morning as 20, including 70 cavalry, most of the latter being engaged in vedette and scout duty.
The Federal losses as officially reported were:
| 15th Mass. | 14 killed; 61 wounded; 227 missing. |
| 20th Mass. | 15 killed; 44 wounded; 135 missing. |
| 42d N. Y. | |
| (Tammany) | 7 killed; 6 wounded; 120 missing. |
| 1st Cal. | 13 killed; 40 wounded; 228 missing. |
| 1st R. I. Art. (Batt’y B.) | 5 wounded; 4 missing. |
| 1st U. S. Art. | 7 wounded. |
The Confederates captured and sent to Manassas 710 prisoners, which accounts for only four otherwise missing, and it is well known that a considerable number were drowned, as was shown by a later investigation by Congress, when General Stone was arrested. The great portion of the heavy loss to the Eighteenth Mississippi was caused by the one terrible volley poured into it at the time Colonel Burt was wounded, while the comparatively small loss to the Eighth Virginia was due to the skillful handling of it by Colonel Hunton, during the long time it was engaged; and it is also true that Colonel Hunton was in command of the field from the moment of his arrival at about 12 M., and so as I know, ordered all the dispositions and movements of troops engaged in the battle.
General Evans maintained his position at the fort 2½ miles from Edward’s Ferry, where Gorman’s 4,000 were posted, and 1½ miles from Ball’s Bluff, where Baker’s 1,700 were fighting, during the whole day, and with the genius of intuition managed the business with superb generalship and daring, withdrawing nearly all his force from Gorman’s front at the critical moment to brace Hunton’s battle on the left; and the result proved his superior skill and generalship.
The officers making reports of the battle, which have been preserved, speak in terms of high praise of the excellent conduct of all the troops engaged, and especially mention for distinguishing gallantry Lieutenant Geo. Baxter, of the Loudoun Cavalry, who, with ten men, charged two companies of the enemy; Captain W. B. Ball and Sergeant Major Baugh, of the Chesterfield Cavalry; Sergeant Strostier, Madison Cavalry; Private Toler, Loudoun Cavalry; Captains Duff, Seventeenth Mississippi; Campbell and Welborn, Eighteenth Mississippi; Fletcher, Thirteenth; all of whom were in the reinforcing party sent to Duff’s support in the morning. Colonels Jenifer, Hunton and others make particular mention of “Mr. E. White, of Ashby’s Cavalry,” who, they say, assisted Captain Duff in the morning, and later “rode in front of the Seventeenth Mississippi, cheering and leading them on.”