ber of men to act as a police force. By nine on the morning of the 18th, it was found that the Confederates had evacuated Centreville, which they had roughly fortified only eight hours previously. They were seen to be posted on the right or southern bank of Bull Run, and General Tyler, who had command of the First Federal Division, resolved on making an immediate attack. The country was thickly covered with wood, and the brigades of Generals Longstreet and Bonham, on the Confederate side, as well as those under the Federal colours, took advantage of the fact. The Federal point of attack was at Blackburn's Ford, situated between the Warrenton Road and the Richmond and Alexandria Railway. Tyler, however, did not attempt to cross the stream, but opened fire with his heavy guns at a distance of a mile and a half, and afterwards somewhat nearer. His adversary replied with spirit, and a brisk duel went on for some time. At length, several of the New York troops broke and fled, throwing away their arms; the other regiments retired in fairly good order. A small force of Confederates then crossed the stream at Mitchell's Ford, and, taking up a position on high ground to the east of the road to Centreville, poured a heavy fire into the retreating ranks. The object of Tyler in making his movement was to carry out a reconnaissance; and this having been accomplished, he did not consider it advisable or necessary to risk any further conflict

It being now evident that the Confederate position was too strong to be attacked in front, it was resolved to approach the enemy on his left flank. No fresh movement, however, could be made until after an interval of a couple of days, owing to the difficulty of moving inexperienced troops, with their accompanying supplies and baggage; and those two days were of the greatest value to the Confederates. Johnston, no longer having the dread of Patterson before his eyes, quitted his position in the Shenandoah Valley, and on the 20th of July arrived at the head-quarters of Beauregard with 6,000 men and twenty guns, to be followed by the rest of his force. Other regiments were moved up from Richmond, and the Confederates now believed themselves equal to any attack likely to be made by the enemy. The Federals would even have been themselves attacked, had not the remainder of the Shenandoah army been detained by a failure in the means of transport. Although this prevented the Confederates making a forward movement, they were in a most favourable position for resisting any assault. Their left was on the Centreville and Warrenton Road, a little above the bridge over which that highway

crosses Bull Run; their right was at Union Mills Ford, about nine miles farther down the little river, near the railway connecting Alexandria and Richmond. In front was the stream, with its high and precipitous banks; at the rear were dense woods, capable of concealing large numbers of marksmen. The general character of the country was undulatory, and in parts extremely rugged. High hills alternated with lower elevations, and the gorges between were often so narrow that a small force could easily stand against one much larger. With no little confidence, therefore, did Generals Beauregard and Johnston draw up their legions on the morning of Sunday, July 21st. morning of Sunday, July 21st. Johnston, being the senior officer, had a right to the principal command; but he was so well satisfied with the plans already elaborated and in part carried out by Beauregard, that, with an honourable forgetfulness of his own technical claims, he consented to serve under his junior's orders. At an early hour on the morning of the 21st, the Confederates were disposed in three lines, watching the several fords over the stream, which were eight in number. Beauregard, in a despatch written after the battle, stated that his entire army amounted to 27,833 men, with forty-nine guns; but a large number of the troops were armed with nothing better than shot-guns and old fowling pieces, while the artillery was insufficient and badly worked.

The plan of attack formed by General McDowell was intimated to the several divisions of the Federal army on the evening of July 20th. It was desired to turn the Confederate left, and, if possible, to destroy the railway leading from Manassas Junction to the Shenandoah Valley, so as to cut off the remainder of Johnston's army. With this view, the men were served with three days' rations, and furnished with instructions as to how they were to proceed. The army was late in starting, owing to some delay on the part of the First Division; and it was ten o'clock on the morning of the 21st when the advance crossed the river at Sudley Springs. Colonel Evans, the Confederate officer on the opposite bank, disputed the ground as doggedly as inferior numbers would permit; but the Federals made way, and were gradually reinforced by other divisions of the army. General McDowell was commanding in person, and he hurried up additional regiments, with a view to crushing his adversary by mere numbers. Matters began to look grave for the Confederates, and Generals Beauregard and Johnston rode towards the scene of contest, to give immediate direction to the movements of their troops. Some hard fighting took place on an elevated plateau, partly covered with

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pine-woods, and intersected by water-courses. The Federals repeatedly drove their adversaries down the eastern slope of this eminence; and at noon the Confederates, though replying with firm ness to the opposing fire, and doing considerable execution with their field-pieces, had undoubtedly lost ground. During one of these Federal charges, the Confederate officer, General Bee, observed rather excitedly to General Jackson, "They are beating us back!" "Well, sir," replied Jackson, "we will give them the bayonet." Bee turned to his men, and endeavoured to rally them. "Form! form!" he exclaimed. "There stands Jackson like a stonewall." In this way, it is generally believed (though other accounts are not wanting), did the gallant Confederate leader obtain the designation which has clung to him ever since. The courage and self-possession of Jackson did wonders, but the day was still going in favour of the Union Towards the centre, the Federal brigade under Colonel Richardson opened fire against Generals Jones and Longstreet at Blackburn's Ford, to prevent their reinforcing the Confederate left; and, by order of Beauregard, Longstreet crossed the stream towards the Federals, and detained some of them from the more important field of conflict. The Confederate right and the Federal left were hardly engaged at all.

men.

So unpromising did the aspect of affairs seem to Beauregard and Johnston, that, shortly after twelve o'clock, the latter hastened to Lewis House, in the rear of the Confederate line, to see whether he could hurry forward the troops which were expected to arrive by rail from the Shenandoah Valley. During his absence, the Confederates made an approach towards retrieving their position; but they were still very hard-pressed. General Jackson executed a movement by which he was enabled to seize one of the Federal batteries-a success due in some degree to the mistake of the officer in command, who, not feeling sure that the advancing troops were those of the enemy, abstained from firing. About this time, McDowell ordered Colonel Sherman, who occupied the centre of the Federal line, to charge the opposing batteries with his entire brigade. The movement was begun with a good deal of dash and energy; but the brigade ultimately fell back. Again and again the desperate attempt was renewed, and the regiments were terribly cut up; but the Confederate batteries were admirably handled, and Sherman was unable to carry out his orders. It was then that Colonel Cameron, brother of the Secretary of War, was killed at the head of a Scotch New York Regiment, and that Colonel Corcoran, of the New York Irish, was taken

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prisoner. Still, the Federals were on the whole having the best of the encounter. The Confederates were again driven down the wooded slopes, and the ground was thickly strewn with dead and wounded, Many of the Confederate officers had by this time fallen; the gallant Jackson was struck, but refused to quit the field; and Beauregard, placing himself at the head of his troops, led them at the charge against the foe. Shortly afterwards he was slightly wounded, but, like Jackson, remained with his regiments, and was in time rewarded by a complete change in the fortunes of the day.

Meanwhile, Johnston was at Lewis House, commonly called "the Portico," from which he could scan the country all round. He felt extremely anxious as to the issue of the struggle, for up to that time fortune seemed likely to declare itself on the side of the Federals. It was now three o'clock in the afternoon, and the reinforcements had not arrived. "Oh, for four regiments!" he is reported to have exclaimed to one of his officers; and not long afterwards a cloud of dust was seen rising into the air from the direction of the Manassas Gap Railway, to the south of where he was standing. For the moment, Johnston was under the impression that this indicated the advance of Federal reinforcements. He soon discovered his error. The strangers proved to be a body of Confederates, numbering four thousand, and commanded, by General E. Kirby Smith. They had come by rail from the Shenandoah Valley, and Smith, on hearing the sound of cannon on his left, had stopped the train, and marched his men across the country in the direction of the battle which was plainly going on. At the Portico they received the commands of Johnston, who ordered them to attack the right flank of McDowell's line. He also directed Colonel Cooke's brigade to join in the action. Other bodies of Southern troops likewise dashed forward to the plateau where Beauregard was desperately contending against the Federal advance; and the Commander-in-Chief found himself so heavily reinforced that the relative position of the two armies was entirely reversed. The Confederate ranks were now far more numerous than those of their opponents, and the new arrivals were fresh and vigorous. Beauregard, who had ordered an advance of the whole line shortly before, felt victory almost in his grasp. The reinforcements took up their position to the left of the onwardsweeping hosts, and the whole accumulated mass fell like a thunderbolt upon the fatigued and astounded Federals. Very soon they were outflanked, and driven headlong down the opposite side of the plateau. Sharp-shooters appeared in

the woods at their back; from three sides a storm of shot poured into their staggering ranks; and the perils of the time were aggravated by panic. A portion of General Stewart's cavalry joined in the Confederate charge, and the Federals then gave way in hopeless and miserable flight. The victorious regiments, however, suffered severely in the final assault. General Kirby Smith fell badly wounded shortly after he had placed his troops to the left of the main body, and Generals Bee and Barton were killed a little later. But the day, after a long and sanguinary fight, had been won, and Jefferson Davis, who had left Richmond in the morning, arrived in time to see the rout and ruin of his adversaries.

The flight of the Union troops was marked by every sign of disorganisation and military incompetence. Flinging away their arms, ammunition, knapsacks, and other incumbrances, like the Confederates after the battle of Rich Mountain, the discomfited soldiers dashed pell-mell from the scene of their crushing reverse, scattering dismay far and wide by their fear-stricken faces and cries of terror. All pretence of order and method was at an end. Each man thought only of himself, and the honour of the army was entirely lost in the overwhelming consideration of personal safety. The troops were under an impression that the woods were full of masked batteries, though there appears to be no evidence that any such were really there. When, however, a notion of this kind is spread abroad, it not unfrequently destroys the equanimity even of regular soldiers. A panic once begun cannot readily be stopped. The unreasoning apprehension passes from rank to rank, and from regiment to regiment, like wild-fire; and the contagion of fear is as mysterious in its agencies and as rapid in its effects as any other epidemic. Where veterans have lost all sense of military subordination and mutual reliance, it is not surprising if inexperienced and half-disciplined troops should become totally disorganised, and even for the time unmanned. The rush from Bull Run, with all its disgraceful incidents, was in no respect surprising: it was nevertheless painful in the highest degree. Without pausing to ascertain whether they were being followed-and in point of fact they were followed only a little way the fugitives pressed on towards Centreville, where their supports were stationed. To questions as to what had happened, they gaspingly replied that all was lost, that they were hopelessly beaten, that they had been encountered by masked batteries, that they were being pursued by cavalry. Attempts were made to stay the rush; but the resistless flood

poured on. The artillerymen cut the harness, and rode off, leaving the guns behind; and at the bridge over Cub Run the greater part of the artillery was abandoned. In truth, the whole way was strewn with arms of all sorts; and when Centreville was reached, it was a mob that entered it.

During the progress of the battle, its incidents had been watched from the hills near Bull Run by crowds of Congressmen and other civilians from Washington, and even by ladies, who looked at the field of conflict through opera-glasses, and vociferously expressed their satisfaction at every successful operation. Passes were granted in large numbers by the military authorities, and the whole affair seemed to be contemplated as a gala. The strength of the Confederates had been rashly underrated, and it was believed that they would be entirely crushed as soon as the grand Army of the Potomac advanced from its lines. Colonel Miles, commanding the Fifth Division, who had his head-quarters at Centreville, entertained a large number of guests with wine and cigars, and everything looked fair and prosperous until the scared fugitives came pouring into the little village. The revellers were at once infected with as blank a fear as that of the beaten soldiery, and preparations for a hurried return to Washington were made on the instant. There was no occasion, however, for so much precipitancy. At the beginning of the rout, Colonel Radford and Lieutenant-Colonel Munford, with six companies of Virginian cavalry, were pushed forward in pursuit, and the remainder of the Confederate army was about to follow, when a report (afterwards proved to be unfounded) reached General Beauregard, to the effect that the Federal reserves were threatening the position at Union Mills. The pursuit was accordingly stopped, excepting as far as the cavalry were concerned, and even that was not hotly pressed nor greatly prolonged. General McDowell, on perceiving that his men were utterly defeated, rode off to Centreville, ordered General Blenker's German brigade to support and rally the flying troops, and directed Colonels Davies and Richardson to take up a position to cover Centreville. Johnston had ordered Ewell to cross Bull Run in force, and attack that village; but, in attempting to execute the movement, his subordinate was so warmly received that he found it necessary to retreat, his men being thrown into disorder by the heavy guns of the enemy. By sunset, most of the beaten Federals had reached the further side of the Centreville ridge, and it became it became a question whether an attempt should there be made to reorganise the shattered army. The panic had not spread to every one of the regiments, Blenker's

brigade, the regulars, and a portion of the reserves at Centreville, retained their military form, though nearly exhausted by thirty hours' marching and fighting. These battalions were of immense service in covering the flight of the others, and in checking the pursuit. But they could not infuse any better spirit into their demoralised comrades, and it was agreed by all the commanders that there was no choice but to fall back. The men had been fighting for hours under a blazing sun; they were tired, hungry, and disheartened; their rations, issued the day before, had been recklessly thrown away; and a large number of guns and small arms, together with stores of ammunition, had been lost. It appeared, moreover, that Blackburn's Ford was by that time in possession of the enemy, and that he was endeavouring to turn the Federal left. Orders were therefore given to continue the retreat; but they were quite superfluous, for the troops had taken the matter into their own hands, and, as night came on, were hurrying along the road to Washington.

In the fields and ways from the battle-ground to Centreville, the wounded lay in hundreds. Many dropped with fatigue, and were crushed by the artillery, or ridden over by the horses. A dull, deep roar, made up of many cries of rage, agony, and terror, surged along the paths by which the Federals were retreating, and clouds of dust, illuminated by the western sun, revealed the several lines of flight. It was not until the early morning of the 22nd that the fugitives reached the Federal capital; and even then their fears did not desert them. Some passed further on into the country; others crowded the terminus of the Northern Railway, and endeavoured to depart by the trains, until the authorities sent a streng guard to keep them back. Wounded men lay about the streets; the uninjured clamoured against the Government, or, displaying their tattered and dusty uniforms, gave exaggerated accounts of the disaster which had befallen their cause. One of the worst features of the time was a disposition to magnify the dimensions of the defeat beyond all reasonable measure. Men seemed to take a morbid delight in relating their discomfiture in the most vivid and extravagant language they could command. They succeeded in producing a general impression that Washington itself would soon be taken by the victorious Confederates, and the Administration had a difficult task in maintaining the public spirit. The reverse was all the more depressing because of the previous assurance of a brilliant triumph, such as would perhaps kill Secession at a blow. During that eventful Sunday, crowds assembled round the

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telegraph office, reading with eager satisfaction the despatches that came from the field of battle throughout the morning and the early part of the afternoon. Everything, it was then reported, was going well. The soldiers of the Union were successful at all points. A complete and overwhelming victory was certain. But, as the afternoon wore on, the telegrams ceased to arrive. An ominous silence supervened, and men began to ask one another what it meant. Then came placards outside the newspaper offices, announcing "Utter rout of the troops!" "Stampede to Washington!" "All our batteries captured!" and so on. The effect was dramatic. From a city of joy, the Federal capital passed at once into a city of mourning.

The losses of the Federal army were stated by McDowell at 19 officers, and 462 non-commissioned officers and privates, killed; 64 officers, and 947 non-commissioned officers and privates, wounded. The "missing" were very numerous; many went off altogether, and never returned to the colours. The Confederate loss was estimated by General Beauregard at 269 killed, and 1,483 wounded. prisoners, including wounded, he had no fewer than 1,600 men, and among the captured were officers and men of forty-seven regiments of volunteers, and of nine different regiments of regular troops, detachments of which were engaged. The gains of the Confederates in artillery, small arms, ammunition, accoutrements, flags, military appliances, hospital stores, waggons, horses, &c., were very large, and Johnston and Beauregard were in a better position for pushing a vigorous campaign after the battle than before. It was subsequently made a ground of bitter complaint against Jefferson Davis and his colleagues that an advance on Washington was not immediately ordered. Under the circumstances, the attempt might possibly have succeeded, and in that case the Confederation would have been at once recognised by all the Powers of the world, and the old Union might have been re-constructed, with slavery for its corner-stone, and the predominance of the South secured in every detail of government. But the Secessionist Generals seem not to have been fully aware of the utter disorganisation of the Northern army, and they were doubtful as to the ability of their own forces to undertake so serious an enterprise as the reduction of a fortified city. So Washington was not attacked, and the North had time to rally.*

* Colonel Fletcher's and B. J. Lossing's Histories of the War; Tenney's Military and Naval History of the Rebellion; Pollard's First Year of the War: Dr. William Howard Russell's Diary North and South; Reports of the Federal and Confederate Generals.

In his report on the battle, General McDowell was compelled to make many complaints of his own men, and to point out many defects in the American military system. The regiments had shown very bad marching qualities; were soon fatigued, prone to dawdle, and unable to carry even slight weights any great distance. Hence a fatal delay in their operations against the enemy. The unsteadiness of several of the troops, especially of the Zouaves, was lamentable, and the "Ellsworth Avengers" avenged nothing. Perhaps the worst conduct, however, was that of the Fourth Pennsylvanian Volunteers, and of the battery of volunteer artillery of the New York Eighth Militia. Their term of service expired on the eve of the battle, and they insisted on their immediate discharge. After vain attempts to persuade them to remain a few days longer, their demand was granted; "and," says General McDowell, "the next morning, when the army moved forward

into battle, these troops moved to the rear, to the sound of the enemy's cannon." Such men have no right to call themselves soldiers at all; they have hardly a right to claim kinship with the nation they disgrace. But it should always be recollected, in considering the events of that unhappy day, that the Federals, for the most part, fought well for some hours, drove their adversaries before them again and again, and at one time came very near obtaining a decisive victory. It was only when they were out-numbered and out-flanked that they fled in uncontrollable dismay. Many well-trained armies have done the same. Discreditable as their flight undoubtedly was, it was no worse than that of Braddock's regiments from the ambushed French and Indians, or that of Gage's men from Concord. Such panics are known to every service, and should not be alleged as a special reproach against any one in particular.

EVENTS of importance were occurring in Missouri about the same time that the Federals and Confederates were confronting each other in the neighbourhood of Washington. After the removal of General Harney, whose temporising policy with the Missouri malcontents was not approved by the Federal Government, General Lyon, in whose hands was the chief direction of military affairs in that western State, took very decided measures against the Secessionists. Governor Jackson, finding himself unable to resist these proceedings at the seat of government, withdrew on the 14th of June to Booneville, a town on the south bank of the Missouri River, taking with him the small force of State militia under General Sterling Price. To counteract this movement, Lyon directed Colonel Sigel, a German who in 1848-9 had commanded the insurrectionary troops of the Grand Duchy of Baden, to advance with some regiments of his countrymen as far as the Gasconade River. An

expedition under the command of Lyon himself proceeded simultaneously up the Missouri, and threatened Booneville with so much effect that Jackson, after a slight skirmish on the 18th, evacuated it. The future conduct of the campaign now became a subject for grave deliberation. If the Union men could be lured into the more distant parts of the State, where the country was little better than a desert, where the few inhabitants were strongly opposed to the Federals, and where the latter would be far removed from their base of operations, the State troops might have a fair chance of success. In the contrary case, the odds would be much against the Governor and his forces, as the Federals had command of St. Louis, of the Mississippi and Missouri through the greater part of their courses, of the lines of rail, and of the frontiers, excepting to the south, where Arkansas formed the boundary. Another reason which determined Jackson to retire in a southerly direction was that