Towards evening something like order seemed restored, and we waited in momentary expectation of hearing the command “Forward.” But night came on, and we were still idly facing the pelting rain. Shivering, shaking, and wretched, the troops threw themselves upon the wet ground to await the morrow.
At midnight we were aroused by the rattle of the kettle-drum calling us to arms, and never did men more readily respond to the summons. An order had been received for the First Maryland and the Third Tennessee to accompany Colonel J. E. B. Stuart, with cavalry and artillery, to Fairfax Court House.
The night was intensely dark, and our progress was, therefore, necessarily slow. For hours we toiled through the deep mud, stumbling and falling over rocks, stumps and logs, and mistaking our way every mile, when at daylight we struck the turnpike leading to Alexandria, and but six miles from where we had started.
The rain had now ceased, the clouds grew lighter and lighter, and presently the wind springing up, they were sent fleeting, and dancing, and skipping across heaven’s blue face, to be seen no more, we trusted, for many days to come. Never before had the glorious sun been more heartily welcomed by suffering humanity than it was that morning as it rose with silent majesty in the eastern sky. Never before had it appeared so lovely, never risen with such stately grandeur; and, as we gazed in its full, bright face, and began to feel its warm breath envelop us, we forgot all the sufferings and privations of the past thirty-six hours, and were made as happy as we had just before been miserable.
Evidences of the enemy’s rapid retreat now appeared on every side. The first thing which we encountered was an abandoned wagon, ladened with army bread. Nothing could have been more acceptable, and the troops were bountifully supplied. A little farther a large camp was found, filled with everything conceivable that could contribute to the comfort and efficiency of an army. As we progressed, wagons in great numbers presented themselves, containing army stores, ammunition, arms, etc., while camp kettles, muskets, cartridge boxes, belts, breast-plates, etc., lined the road for miles. Broken-down buggies that had, no doubt, been abandoned by the valiant Yankee members of Congress who had started with the army, bound for Richmond, put in an occasional appearance. At one place a human arm was found that had, no doubt, been amputated in the ambulance which was conveying the sufferer to the rear in the general flight. It evidently had belonged to an officer, for it was of delicate mould and fair as woman’s, and on the little finger was an exquisitely-wrought ring, containing a brilliant and valuable diamond set.
We reached Fairfax Court House by 12 o’clock, where we also found an immense quantity of stores, especially of clothing, which at that time was much needed by the Confederate Government. Nothing could exceed the joy of the inhabitants at once more beholding the gray they loved so well; but more than once they expressed their regret that we had not arrived some hours earlier; “for,” said one of them, “four thousand Yankees left here but this morning, who would have surrendered to a corporal’s guard, and those in advance of them were, if possible, in a worse plight, utterly demoralized, and without the semblance of organization.”
A half mile beyond the village the command went into camp in a woods by the side of the turnpike, there to await orders from General Johnston, whom we supposed moving with the whole army upon Washington, and but a short distance in our rear.
Reclining upon a bundle of straw, resting my tired, aching limbs, I was joined by my first Lieutenant, Shellman, who, with face radiant with joy, informed me that he had just heard the Colonel commanding express his belief that we would surely be in front of Washington before thirty-six hours. With all my heart did I hope it might prove true; but I had my doubts. I did not like the confusion we had witnessed, and feared it would require some days to reorganize the army, and place it in a condition to assume the offensive. That it was possible to yet retrieve the great error committed on the 21st and 22d, I was inclined to believe; but that it would be done was another question; and an observation from a private soldier suggested itself to me more than once. It was made while we were retracing our steps to Manassas after the battle, when all were out of humor. “A President and two Generals,” said he, “are too many to command one army.” And subsequent events proved how correct it was.
As day after day passed by, and there appeared no indications of offensive operations being resumed, our hopes of a speedy peace vanished, and we saw nothing before us but a protracted and bloody struggle.
Rapidly the enemy reorganized and reinforced his broken and discomfited army; and in an incredibly short time the genius of McClellan had placed around Washington an army and fortifications that it would have been madness for the Confederate Generals to attack.