Chapter V: By J. M. Martin

Second Bull Run Campaign--Battle of Chantilly--Death of General
Kearny--His Body Escorted to Washington by a Detachment of the
Fifty-Seventh--Retreat to Alexandria--Conrad's Ferry--Colonel
Campbell Rejoins the Regiment.

Our stay in the neighborhood of Bealeton and Warrenton Junction was brief. Lee was moving northward, the main body of his army being west of the Bull Run mountains, while Jackson with Stewart's cavalry was on the east. The 3d corps in which the 57th served fell back to Centerville by way of Greenwich and Manassas Junction. As we passed the latter the buildings and many cars were smouldering ruins, showing that Jackson's outflankers had recently been there, and that the main body of his troops could not be far distant. The night of the 28th we bivouacked at Centerville and the next morning marched out the Warrenton turnpike. On our way we met quite a number of paroled prisoners who had just been sent through the lines by Jackson. They were quite jubilant, reporting that desperate fighter completely hemmed in at the base of the mountains and likely to fall an easy prey to our army. With this hopeful intelligence we pressed on with stimulated zeal toward the front. Arriving on the battlefield Kearny's division was deployed on the extreme right of the line, which position it held during the two succeeding days of the battle, most of the division at one time or other being hotly engaged. The 57th, however, escaped, though frequently under fire. Along the left and center the battle raged fiercely. The issue hung upon the ability of Pope to crush his antagonist, the redoubtable "Stonewall," before assistance could come to him from his chief beyond the mountains. But alas for our fondest expectations! Longstreet pressed his way through the insecurely guarded mountain pass, Thoroughfare Gap, and late in the afternoon of the 30th, when victory seemed about to perch on our banners, threw himself with irresistible force against our left. The onset was so fierce and unexpected that it did not lie in human power to resist, and in a few brief moments, all hope vanished, rout followed, and an almost _fac simile_ of the disaster of the preceding summer was the consequence, except that our legions were veterans now, the army retained its morale and (especially the right wing) fell back in good order upon Centerville, the enemy, either from being sorely crippled, or satisfied with his success, giving little annoyance. The army in this encounter could not be said to have been defeated. Fully one-third of its efficient force had not been engaged. A general impression prevailed in the ranks that we either had been outgeneraled or that some stupendous blunder had been made.

Rumors of disobedience of orders by officers high in rank filled the air, and mortification and chagrin the breasts of all. We were not whipped; that would have been satisfying. The story was that in the game of war our adversary, in playing his winning card, had been aided by the petty strifes and jealousies among our own leaders. Happily history has done much to remove this feeling and as well the clouds that overcast the fair name and fame of at least one of our corps commanders, whose bravery and ability none doubted. But then it was different, and provoked by defeat, slight evidence was sufficient to call down maledictions loud and bitter.

During August 31st and September 1st the regiment camped near Centerville, but in the afternoon of the 1st received marching orders and filed out on the road leading to Fairfax Court House. Marching leisurely along, all unconscious of the near presence of an enemy, we were suddenly startled by the sound of skirmish firing to our left. A moment later General Kearny and staff rode past at a gallop. The desultory firing of the skirmishers increased rapidly to volleys and soon we were advancing to the front at a double quick. Wheeling to the left of the road on which we were marching we were deployed in line of battle; part of the division immediately advanced and soon was hotly engaged. In the midst of the roar of battle a fierce electric storm burst upon the contending forces, and the flashes of lightning and peals of thunder mingled with the crash of musketry and booming of cannon, while rain descended in torrents. While the regiments of the division were being advanced General Kearny sat on his horse but a few paces from the 57th. Some of his staff suggested that the regiment be assigned to the advance column. "No," replied the general, "place the 57th in reserve. If these men have to retreat I want them to fall back upon men that won't run!" These were the last words he ever uttered in our presence. Within a brief hour he lay cold in death within the enemy's lines, the victim of that spirit within him so often manifested on the field of battle and at the post of danger, never to send another where he himself would not willingly go.

To the 57th was accorded the honor of receiving from the Confederates under a flag of truce the following morning the remains of their fallen leader, the five right companies, A, B, C, D and E, with the colors subsequently acting as special escort of the body to Washington, D. C.

The day following the short, but sanguinary engagement at Chantilly, the remaining companies of the regiment, not detached for the above mentioned sad duty, marched to Alexandria and encamped near the regiment's old quarters of the preceding winter. While in camp an incident occurred that came near breaking up the regimental organization. During the Peninsula and Bull Run campaigns the regiment had become reduced in numbers to scarcely one-fourth of its original strength, and as a consequence an order was issued directing the consolidation of the regiment with the 99th Pennsylvania Volunteers, which was a comparatively new organization, had seen but little field service and had but recently been assigned to the brigade. The news of this order caused the most intense feeling, the men declaring that "having received from Governor Curtin their colors when they were returned to the state capital they would return with them." Major Birney was still absent, having accompanied the remains of General Kearny to Newark, New Jersey. Chaplain McAdam immediately visited Washington, interviewed the Secretary of War, put himself in communication with Governor Curtin and soon brought to us the good news that the order had been countermanded. Chaplain McAdam's success in this important undertaking gave him great popularity in the regiment, if, indeed, his popularity could be increased, for from the first organization of the regiment the chaplain had a warm place in the esteem and confidence of the men, irrespective of rank or condition.

The regiment had not been visited by its paymaster since some time before the Seven Days' battle. As a consequence few if any were the possessors of a "greenback." This alone was aggravating, but when our proximity to Alexandria brought us daily visits by numerous hucksters of fruit and gingerbread, not to mention real and toothsome pie, the aggravation was intensified to a degree unbearable. This reached the climax when on a certain occasion a wagon load of watermelons was deliberately driven into camp and displayed on the parade ground. The vender of this luxury, however, demanded a price that no sixteen dollar soldier of "Uncle Sam" could think of paying. The temptation to enjoy the luscious fruit was too great. One of the boys, disregarding the admonitions of a home-cultured conscience which he still cherished, picked up a melon and walked off with it to his quarters. The huckster followed to collect pay or to recover his property, but alas! his efforts to reclaim the lost melon left the remainder unguarded, and he returned to his wagon only to find the last one gone and his wagon empty. Gone, doubtless, in the way of all good melons in an army camp.

During the Antietam campaign the 3d corps remained in the defences about Washington, south of the Potomac. From Arlington Heights the low mutter from the distant battlefield could be heard and although no tidings came to us of an engagement all felt that a desperate battle was in progress.

On September 12 we received marching orders for Poolsville, Md., and on the 15th pitched our tents (dog kennel style) near Conrad's Ferry on the Potomac, where we did picket duty until McClellan again crossed the river and resumed his march on Richmond. Our sojourn at Conrad's Ferry was very restful after the summer of hard campaigning; two incidents, however, occurred to add a touch of excitement to our otherwise monotonous camp life. The first was a raid across the river to the ancient town of Leesburg, the county seat of Loudon county, Va., where we had a glimpse, and only that, of the enemy's cavalry pickets and received a thorough wetting going and returning while fording the river. The second was a bootless attempt to head off that bold raider, J. E. B. Stewart, in his hazardous ride around our army. We marched and countermarched all day long up and down the river between Conrad's Ferry and Monocacy creek, but notwithstanding our vigilance the wily fox slipped us and gained the Virginia shore without so much as giving us a chance shot at him.

Early in October Colonel Campbell returned and resumed command of the regiment, although he still carried his arm in a sling. We were indeed glad to see his face again, but sorry to bid farewell to Major Birney, who had won a warm place in the regimental affections.

One of the sad incidents of camp life occurred just before the colonel's return. A member of the regiment had been found guilty of the theft of a pistol from one of the cavalry orderlies at brigade headquarters. His sentence was to stand so many hours daily on the head of a barrel on the parade ground and to march by the front of the line at dress parade under guard to the music of the "Rogue's march," with the word "thief" in large letters on a placard strapped across his back. The punishment, while not severe, was indeed humiliating. Punishments for such offenses were often severe and always of a character to expose to ridicule and invite contempt, while those of foraging among farmers, which often bore more of the character of theft and robbery than the legitimate right of confiscation for justifiable use, were winked at. On one occasion Colonel Campbell, while walking along the towing path of the canal that ran near our camp, espied the recently removed integument of a porker. In an apparently towering rage, he returned to camp and announced his discovery, asserting with not a few expletives, more forcible than polite, that "any man who would steal a pig and didn't know enough to hide its skin deserved to be drummed out of camp!"

A neighboring farmer made complaint to General Hobart Ward, commanding the brigade, that his hogs were missing and that some of the 57th were the culprits. The general promised to institute a thorough search for evidence of fresh pork in our camp and carried out his promise to the letter. Through courtesy (presumably) he sent word to Colonel Campbell of this proposed inspection. The colonel felt it his duty to acquaint the company commanders of the facts; these, in turn, informed the sergeants and they, following their superior's example, told the rank and file. The general came at the hour appointed, and that the farmer might know the sincerity of his promise, brought him with him. The search was thorough, but no evidence of the theft could be obtained. Some other command must have appropriated the hogs! Of course the farmer was convinced. Perhaps, if pressed, would have apologized for his porcine imputation upon our honor. Perhaps!