October 2022
the New York Times, Edward C. Stedman of the New York World, and of course C. Carleton Coffin of the Boston Journal.14 Writing at Centreville on July 18, Carleton sent a letter that got to Boston so quickly that the World was able to print it on the 23rd. By that time everyone in the North knew the outcome of the battle, and of the Union army’s ignominious retreat. He next wrote from Washington on July 22, a piece that appeared in the Journal on the 25th. What stood out in Carleton’s reporting was that he did not flinch from detailing the Federals’ rout, and that in it his own escape was providential. (Note, however: the war was just a few months old, and already one sees in the Northern press allegations of Rebels committing battlefield atrocities.)
As late as four o’clock on the 21st, Coffin believed that McDowell had won a victory. Slowly, however, realization set in, as he describes in his letter.
“It was now 4 P.M., and the firing gradually died away. Reports came in that the day was ours. I did not feel like hurrahing, for I was not satisfied. I knew we had driven them, that we had got their ground; that we had captured cannon, and taken many prisoners. I sat down by our hospital and commenced to write a dispatch to the readers of The Journal, but suffering from intolerable thirst, in company with two other gentlemen of the Boston press, went down in front of the hospital through woods, to a spring. While there I heard a commotion, and thought our men were hurrahing over the victory. The next moment a Minie bullet whistled over my head, then there was a rapid firing of musketry, two or three cannon discharges and a terrible commotion. Gaining the cleared land I could see a part of Sherman’s battery driving with terrible speed toward Cub run bridge, with private carriages, the bridge train, men on horseback and on foot, soldiers and citizens, fleeing for their lives. Being only a reporter I tried the virtue of my legs till I gained the other side of the Cub run, through the abbati which the rebels had felled. Then, feeling that I was safe, stopped long enough to comprehend the whole affair. It flashed upon me in an instant. Now I saw the meaning of the abbati; also of the cloud of dust. We had been charged upon by the enemy’s cavalry—four thousand—on the extreme left. They had crossed Bull run several miles above, had come down secretly, with the design of sweeping Schenck’s whole brigade into the cul de sac—the Indian buffalo trap
formed by Bull run and Cub run. It was a great strategic plan. They had given way before us, we had followed up, went far enough in for the grand stroke which they must make to retrieve the day. The first intimation Schenck’s brigade had of the thunderbolt was a volley in their rear. The next moment all was confusion. Three minutes’ notice—one minute even—and Sherman and Carlisle would have annihilated the troop of black horse. But the notice was wanting, and hence the terrible rout which followed. The force of rebels across the meadows was only intended as a feint, to attract attention from the cat like step which was taking place in our rear. If a company of skirmishers had been deployed, or if a regiment had been in position on the eminence I had occupied, it would not have happened.
There was a painful and criminal neglect somewhere—an utter want of generalship. We had no flankers out!
I cannot describe the scene which followed. I am sick of the sight, and would, if I could, banish it forever from my mind. All I can say is that the cavalry dashed upon our men, captured Carlisle’s and a part of Sherman’s guns— shooting the horses; captured soldiers; deliberately shot them after they had surrendered; went into the house used as a hospital, and killed the wounded men, and committed barbarities which the most abject savages in the world would scorn to do. One rebel soldier was seen to cut the throat of a helpless wounded soldier! One took a stake from the fence and drove it through the body of a wounded man, pinning him to the earth! These reports are confirmed by several witnesses. There were many narrow escapes. One man informed me that he hid in a wheat stack. Another fell down and shammed dead while the cavalry leaped over him. Mr. Stedman, of the New York World, who was on horseback, took an officer on behind. He had not proceeded far when the officer was shot dead. Many gentlemen of the press had a narrow escape. Your correspondent would have been there had it not been for thirst, which, under that eye which notes the fall of every sparrow, led him away ten minutes previous, and placed him in safety.
As I ascended the hill toward Centreville I found Miles’ division in position with skirmishers thrown out, and reserves behind. The Garibaldians were in front. Never did I see a more determined set of men. The high bridge was a strong position, and I was confident that there was no danger. But the panic had spread. The baggage trains were on the move, rattling away as if the enemy was within gunshot distance, whereas they [the enemy] had made their dash and were away, afraid to come openly to an attack or to follow up their tremendous advantage.
The scene along the road to Fairfax I will not dwell upon— the throwing away of stores, the blockades of baggage trains, the crowds of stragglers, the breaking down of wagons, all needless, and which showed that there had been a criminal neglect in the organization of the army in not making flank and rear strong as well as the front.
The two New Jersey regiments, which had been ordered forward from Vienna, were met. Their officers and men did what they could to arrest the panic stricken crew, but the elements of disorder had broken loose, and the flock must have its run. Finding a conveyance to Fairfax, I made haste thither, hoping to reach the city before morning, to give an account to your readers. From Fairfax to Vienna is four miles, which was reached on foot at 10 o’clock. Here nature gave out, and I proposed to sleep at the house of a good Union man. The secessionists were awake. “For God’s sake don’t stay here,” said a resident of the place, who still loved the Union. “I am going. They will rise before morning.” Other northern gentlemen were there and we chartered a conveyance to Falls Church, where a company of the 2d Maine regiment was in camp. Here the stragglers were picked up, and ample assistance provided by Quartermaster Lord, in command, for the wounded men. Surgeon Hamlin kindly gave me an invitation to ride into the city in an ambulance, which was accepted, but our arrival was too late for telegraphic dispatches.”
The Journal reporter tried to make sense of it all: “We have, as I said, gained a victory, but yet have been routed.” There was not much whitewashing he could do. “We drove them, occupied their ground, and yet in the moment of victory suffered a most terrible defeat. We were taken in our rear, were panic stricken and fled.”15
Like all wartime newspapers, North and South, the Boston Journal encouraged its readers to look on the bright side of things with this editorial:
“In the valor of our outnumbered and exposed troops, we see assurances which immeasurably overshadow the incidental mishap which followed. The Capital is saved. Our determined soldiers, made wiser and more eager by the sacrifice of their brethren, are rushing forward by thousands and tens of thousands. We still have our gallant and competent leaders, who will set an immortal seal of vengeance on this transient success of the conspirators. Let us, then, calmly review all the events of the one day of trial. Our duties are paramount, and, thanks to heaven, our hopes still go hand in hand with them.”16
Notes 1. William Elliot Griffis, Charles
2. Griffis, Coffin, 25-26; John
4. Griffis, Coffin, 27, 43-44.
5. Ibid., 33-34, 48, 52; Benjamin
6. Andrews, North Reports, 64. 7. Griffis, Coffin, 35 8. Ibid., 35.
9. James M. Perry, A Bohemian Carleton Coffin (Columbia SC, 2022 [1898]), 3-52 passim.; “Charles Carleton Coffin,” The Bay State Monthly: A Massachusetts Magazine, vol. 3, no. 1 (April 1885), 1-18.
W. Schildt, ed., Eyewitness to Gettysburg: Correspondent Coffin Charles Carleton (Shippensburg PA: Burd Street Press, 1997), vii.
Cutler Andrews, The North Reports the Civil War (Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1955), 83.
Franklin Cooling, Forts Henry and Donelson: The Key to the Confederate Heartland (Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1987), 215; John M. Taylor, “The Career of Carleton Coffin,” Civil War Times Illustrated, vol. 21, no. 5 (September 1982), 42.
10. Richard Wheeler, A Rising
11. Schildt, ed., Eyewitness to 12. Paul M. Angle and Earl
14. Louis M. Starr, Bohemian
Stephen Davis of Cumming, Georgia, is author of ten books on the Civil War, most of which treat the Atlanta Campaign. His two recent volumes on Confederate General John Bell Hood (Mercer University Press, 2019, 2020) have won several prizes, including the Fletcher Pratt Award of the New York CWRT.
Thunder—From Lincoln’s Election to the Battle of Bull Run: An Eyewitness History (New York: HarperCollins, 1994), 112-13. 221-22. 313- 17, 328-29, 333, 343-44, 349- 50, 353-55, 357, 368-69.
Schenck Miers, Tragic Years 1860-1865, 2 vols. (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1960), vol. 1, 190-93.
A. Weisberg, Union Reporters for the (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1953), 293.
Brigade: Civil War Newsmen in Action (New York Alfred A. Knopf, 1954), 43-44; Brayton Harris, Blue & Gray in Black & White: Newspapers in the Civil War (Washington: Brassey’s, 1999), 68.
“OUR ARMY C O R R E S P O N D E N C E ” (Washington, July 22), Boston Journal, July 25, 1861.
THE BATTLE,” in Frank Moore, ed., The Rebellion Record: A Diary of American Events, 11 vols. (New York: G. P. Putnam, 1861-1863; D. Van Nostrand, 1864-1868), vol. 2, Documents page 109.