The combined attack, delivered about 3:45 p. m., proved overwhelming. The Federal line staggered and fell back, retiring across the field in some semblance of order. A brief rally north of Young’s Branch was broken up by Confederate artillery fire. All other attempts to rally the men proved futile. They had had enough. Now they continued homeward by the various routes of the morning’s advance. Bravely covering the retreat were Sykes’ regulars and Palmer’s squadron of cavalry.
As the main body of the Federal army retreated in the direction of Sudley Ford, Keyes’ brigade recrossed at the Stone Bridge closely pursued by a Confederate detachment led by Kemper’s battery. Riding astraddle one of the guns was the venerable “Yankee hater,” Edmund Ruffin, who had fired one of the first shots at Fort Sumter. Dusty and weary he had arrived upon the field in the closing moments of the battle in time to hail Kemper’s battery as it was passing. Eager to get another shot at the enemy, he held precariously to his seat as the battery went jolting past the Stone Bridge and along the pike now littered with arms, accoutrements, haversacks, knapsacks, loose articles of clothing, blankets, drums, and brass musical instruments left by the rapidly retiring troops.
The Robinson House. From a wartime photograph in “Photographic History of the Civil War.”
After proceeding a few miles, Kemper’s guns reached an advantageous rise. There they were unlimbered and quickly made ready for firing. The first shot, fired by the elderly Ruffin, hit squarely upon the suspension bridge over Cub Run upsetting a wagon that had just been driven upon it. This served to barricade the bridge to further use by other vehicles. In quick succession more shots were fired. Complete panic now seized the Federal troops as they fled in a wild rout back to Washington. Adding to the confusion were the throngs of sightseers and fugitives who crowded the narrow roads. The roar of the flight, wrote Russell, The London Times’ correspondent, was like the rush of a great river. All through the night and the rain of the next day the tide of soldiers and civilians streamed into Washington. Attempts by McDowell to rally the soldiers were in vain.
The exhausted, battle-weary Confederates made no effective pursuit. Early’s brigade and Stuart’s cavalry did succeed in capturing quite a number of prisoners, but the main Union force escaped. July 22 found both armies in the positions they had occupied prior to the 16th.
EFFECTS OF FIRST MANASSAS.
The news of the disaster was first received in the Capital with incredulity and amazement, then with consternation. Throughout the night President Lincoln received spectators of the battle and listened in silence to their descriptions of the engagement.
“For a few days,” writes Channing, “the North was dazed, stocks went down, money went up, and people sat around with their hands folded in despair. Then, almost as by magic, the scene shifted and stern resolve took the place of the hysteria of the Hundred Days since Sumter. Lincoln called for volunteers. The best blood of the North in all ranks of society, in the East, in the Ohio Valley, and on the shores of the Great Lakes responded. The new men went into the conflict with a determination and a spirit that has seldom been seen and never excelled.”
In the South, the news of the victory was received with great elation. Thanksgiving sermons were preached from the pulpits while public officials commemorated the event with congratulatory proclamations. In the ill-considered opinion of many Southerners the war was over, yet seldom if ever has so complete a victory borne such meager results. An overweening confidence and a false sense of security developed in the South a paralysis of enterprise more damaging to it than was the disaster of defeat for the North.