Charge after charge, is made by our gallant regiments, and counter-charge after counter-charge, is made by the fresh troops of the Enemy. For almost half an hour, has the contest over the batteries rolled backward and forward. Three several times have the batteries been taken, and re-taken,—much of the determined and desperate struggle going on, over the prostrate and bleeding bodies of the brave Union artillerists,—but without avail. Regiment after regiment, has been thrown back, by the deadly fusillade of the Enemy's musketry from the skirt of woods at his front and left, and the canister, case, and bursting shells, of his rapidly-served Artillery.
It is now near upon 4 o'clock. Our last effort to recapture the batteries has failed. The Union line of advance has been seriously checked. Some of our own guns in those batteries are turned on us. The Enemy's Infantry make a rush over the blood-soaked brow of the fatal plateau, pouring into our men a deadly fire, as they advance,—while over to our right and rear, at the same moment, are seen the fresh regiments of Early's Brigade coming out of the woods—deploying rapidly in several lines—with Stuart's handful of Rebel Cavalry, while Beckham's guns, in the same quarter, open an oblique enfilading reverse fire upon us, in a lively manner.
At once the minds of the fagged-out Union troops become filled with the dispiriting idea that the exhausting fight which they have made all day long, has been simply with Beauregard's Army of the Potomac, and that these fresh Rebel troops, on the Union right and rear, are the vanguard of Johnston's Army of the Shenandoah! After all the hard marching and fighting they have done during the last thirteen hours,—with empty stomachs, and parched lips, under a scorching sun that still, as it descends in the West, glowers down upon them, through the murky air, like a great, red, glaring eye,—the very thought is terrible!
Without fear, yet equally without hope, the Union troops crumble to groups, and then to individuals. The attempt of McDowell to turn the left of the Enemy's Bull Run line, has failed.
McDowell and his officers heroically but vainly strive, at great personal risk to themselves, to stem the tide of confusion, and disorder. Sykes's battalion of regulars, which has been at our left, now steadily moves obliquely across the field of battle toward our right, to a hill in the midground, which it occupies, and, with the aid of Arnold's Battery and Palmer's Cavalry, holds, while the exhausted and disorganized troops of the Union Army doggedly and slowly retire toward Sudley Ford, their rear covered by an irregular square of Infantry, which, mainly by the exertions of Colonel Corcoran, has been formed to resist a threatened charge of Stuart's Cavalry.
[At the rate of "not more than two, or two and a half, miles an hour," and not "helter-skelter," as some narrators state.]
It is not fear, that has got the better of our Union troops. It is physical exhaustion for one thing; it is thirst for another. Men must drink,—even if they have foolishly thrown away their canteens,—and many have retired to get water. It is the moral effect also—the terrible disappointment—of seeing what they suppose are Johnston's fresh troops from the Shenandoah Valley, without Patterson "on their heels," suddenly appear on their flank and rear. It is not fear; though some of them are panic-stricken, and, as they catch sight of Stuart's mounted men,—no black horse or uniform among them,—raise the cry of "The Black Horse Cavalry!—The Black Horse Cavalry!"
The Union attack has been repulsed, it is true; but the Union soldiers, though disorganized, discouraged, and disappointed, are not dismayed. Their officers not yet having learned how to fight, and themselves lacking the cohesion of discipline, the men have lost their regimental organizations, and owing to the causes mentioned, slowly retire across Sudley Ford of Bull Run, in a condition of disintegration, their retreat being bravely covered by the 27th and 69th New York, (which have rallied and formed there), Sykes's Infantry battalion, Arnold's Battery, and Palmer's Cavalry.
[In his report to Major Barnard, Capt. D. P. Woodbury, of the corps of Engineers, says: "It is not for me to give a history of the battle. The Enemy was driven on our left, from cover to cover, a mile and a half. Our position for renewing the action the next morning was excellent; whence, then, our failure? It will not be out of place, I hope, for me to give my own opinion of the cause of this failure. An old soldier feels safe in the ranks, unsafe out of the ranks, and the greater the danger the more pertinaciously he clings to his place. The volunteer of three months never attains this instinct of discipline. Under danger, and even under mere excitement, he flies away from his ranks, and looks for safety in dispersion. At four o'clock in the afternoon of the 21st, there were more than twelve thousand volunteers on the battle-field of Bull Run, who had entirely lost their regimental organizations. They could no longer be handled as troops, for the officers and men were not together. Men and officers mingled together promiscuously; and it is worthy of remark that this disorganization did not result from defeat or fear, for up to four o'clock we had been uniformly successful. The instinct of discipline, which keeps every man in his place, had not been acquired. We cannot suppose that the troops of the Enemy had attained a higher degree of discipline than our own, but they acted on the defensive, and were not equally exposed to disorganization.">[
While the divisions of Hunter and Heintzelman, which came down in the morning across Sudley Ford, are now, with one brigade (Sherman's) of Tyler's Division, retiring again, in this disordered condition, by that ford; two other brigades of Tyler's Division, viz., that of Schenck—which, at 4 o'clock, was just in the act of advancing upon, and across, the Stone Bridge, to join in the Union attack, and of Keyes, which was, at the same time, just succeeding in its effort to turn the right flank of the Enemy's third new line,—are withdrawing from the field, across Bull Run stream, by the Warrenton Pike, and other roads leading them directly toward Centreville. The brigades of both Keyes and Schenck are retiring in good order; that of Keyes, at "an ordinary pace," following close after McDowell, who, with his staff, has ridden across the battlefield and Bull Run; while part of that of Schenck, united with the 2nd Maine (of Keyes' Brigade) and Ayres's Battery, "promptly and effectively" repulses a charge of the Enemy's Cavalry, and covers the rear of Tyler's Division. Both of these brigades reach Centreville, hungry and weary, but otherwise, for the most part, in good shape.