by James Devine
Taylor, too, had discarded his field glasses in the downpour. “They’re retreating, Colonel. Bill Worth is too smart to just sit there in that sack, thinking we’re just going to hit him head-on. He knows what happened on Matthews Hill. He’s pulling back before we can get behind him and pull the sack’s string tight.” He turned to Major Davis.
“What’s the latest from General Twiggs? What is the condition and location of his command?”
“General Twiggs has pushed one of his brigades west of Sudley Springs, Sir. He reports they’re bagging all kinds of prisoners. General Wool’s entire corps has disintegrated, he reports. They’ve abandoned their weapons and are in full flight back to Centerville.”
Taylor took off his planter’s hat and shook it impatiently. “That’s fine, Major. But what of Twiggs’ main body? Can he take Stone Bridge and get behind Worth’s command?”
Davis looked from one man to the other. “We have control of Matthews Hill, Sir. But the Dominions have a strong line on an angle from the Pike to the stream protecting the Bridge. Regular infantry, Sir…”
“They can’t have much, Major. Our reports said the Regulars were pretty well dispersed among the volunteer regiments.” Colonel Johnston.
“…but the big problem is that General Twiggs’ whole command lost all unit cohesion during the fighting this morning. General Twiggs is having difficulty regaining control.”
“Jesus, it’s been three or four hours. What the hell’s his problem?”
Davis’ always-formal face was, if possible, even stiffer than usual. “General Twiggs is complaining of what he calls ‘free-lancing,’ General. Reports that some regiments have gone off on their own. There’s an unconfirmed report some of his units have trapped a Dominion force here, in this big bend where the stream turns south.” Davis pointed on a side-table map to an area northwest of Matthews Hill. “There is another problem, General. A…err…lack of communication. The 1st Quebec and the 3rd Louisiana, Sir. In the heat of battle, they have apparently forgotten their English!”
“What!” Taylor swore and turned to look at Johnston, who was attempting to cough down a laugh.
“Yes Sir. General Twiggs says when the Quebecois get excited, they tend to think and hear only in French. And the 3rd Louisiana, well, they’re all Cajuns from the bayous. English isn’t their mother tongue, either.”
“Damn! What do you say to that, hey Colonel?” Taylor looked at his Corps commander in disgust. “Did they teach you fellows how to command a bi-lingual army at The Point?”
Johnston tried rather unsuccessfully to keep a straight face: “Actually, General, I don’t believe anyone in Paris would acknowledge what the Cajuns speak as French. Looks like we leading a tri-lingual army here…”
Taylor saw nothing funny in the situation. “Damn it! I’ve got a whole corps milling around up there on Matthews Hill while Bill Worth disengages under fire and pulls back out of our trap!
“Major Davis, get word to Twiggs. I want that damn bridge taken and our troops up the Warrenton Pike before Worth gets back to their starting point with his main body. Find him and get him organized!”
He turned to Johnston: “Colonel, you will advance across and around this pocket as soon as the enemy artillery withdraws. And utilize Colonel Lee’s Virginians to push their left flank.” He indicated Lee’s position on the map.
“If we can catch up to Worth before he gets back to Centerville, this matter will be concluded tonight!”
___________
Stone Bridge
6 p.m.:
“That’s the last of my batteries, Colonel Savage. All my people are now across. Good luck with your own withdrawal.”
Colonel Buford extended his right hand to the bulky Savage who, in three months, had gone from momentary Confederate prisoner to acting brigade commander. Savage stuck out a beefy hand that rivaled one of Scott’s huge paws. “Thank God for this storm, Colonel. The way this lightening keeps crackling, those Rebels may think you’re still firing…at least long enough for the Regulars to conduct an orderly pull-back.”
He turned serious: “Colonel Buford, I’ve been promised cavalry support north of the Bridge to screen our movement. Now, it doesn’t look like the Rebs have moved off that big damn hill over there, but I haven’t seen or received any reports of Dominion cavalry. I’d appreciate a message if-and-when you sight some.”
“Will do if possible, Colonel Savage. But between this storm and the demise of I Corps, things are in chaos. I suggest you expedite your own withdrawal. Let’s get to Centerville and regroup. I’ll see you there.”
The ‘chaos’ Colonel Buford described extended to both sides: General Twiggs, despite Zach Taylor’s angry order, failed to reestablish order in his Corps for a variety of reasons: inexperienced officers unsure how to assert battlefield control; undisciplined, exhilarated men prematurely celebrating what looked a knockout rout; the sudden storm and, mostly, the unfamiliar shock of battle on this major a scale. A.S. Johnston’s Corps, meanwhile, had become bogged down in the slippery mud the rain had made of the field east of Henry Hill earlier churned up by the extended artillery exchanges. And in a thunder-and-lightening storm of truly biblical proportions, Johnston’s regiments---like all soldiers not faced with a life-or-death situation---did the prudent thing: they waited out the weather.
The Dominion’s II Corps was faced with that proverbial life-or-death situation and instinctively knew it, even if the rank-and-file had no idea of the strategic situation. The eight-hour test of fire had made veterans of the rawest of them and had brought the veteran realization that their attack had run its course. As veterans, they had no problem with the order to abandon a stalemated position, to withdraw from a position in which they were taking fire from three sides…
For the Dominions, the developing problem was the traffic piling up on the Pike. The debris of I Corps kept coming down from the southwest: not so dazed nor terrorized now that it was apparent, even to the most distraught, that they were not being aggressively pursued. But still confused and disorganized.
They were, however, adding to the clogging on the Pike as the lead elements of the II Corps brigade Savage had inherited tried to conduct a retreat in a semblance of order. This portion of Savage’s brigade could also feel Buford’s artillery pushing up behind them.
This mass of men, with some 2nd Brigade units---including Brian Judge’s 1st New Jersey---adding to the congestion, was scheduled to run into the remainder of the II Corps about a mile further up the road at the junction that had marked the Army’s original jumping off points early this morning. (Though it seemed days, if not weeks before.)
All this in the middle of the fierce storm that signaled, finally, the change of seasons in Northern Virginia. A storm that, even as the thunder and lightening died off, continued to drench both armies in an increasingly cold downpour.
___________
Jump-off Junction
Warrenton Pike
8 p.m.:
General Worth had arrived here less than 15 minutes ago, after satisfying himself that the Confederates were not seriously pursuing. In fact, Captain Wilder, who had remained at Lewis Ford with some scouts, had just sent a message that the Rebels had paused at the Run and were making no apparent effort to mount a pursuit from any of the three crossings. Other cavalry patrols were also reporting in: the Rebels seemed content to claim the field west of the Pike. There were no signs of an advance from Twiggs’ Corps in the area of the Run’s bend, though the Confederates had crossed at Sudley Springs and were in considerable strength further west.
Though that might be, Worth thought with both pride and regret, because of the fight put up by the 2nd USBAA Regulars on the other side of Matthews Hill. Rumor had it that the Regulars, enraged by the collapse of I Corps, had made a stand up there somewhere and had fought at least one Rebel brigade to a standstill before running out of ammunition…
So the question was no longer who would win the race to Centerville; the quest
ion was how strongly---and quickly---he could establish a fortified line on the heights west of the town. Taylor must be pissed as hell at Twiggs. He grinned at the thought, his first real smile in days. Here we are in a shambles, half our strength gone, and he can’t consolidate and come after us. Ol’ Zach must feel like a schoolboy with a big helping of ice cream in his hand on a hot day. It’s melting through his fingers before he can finish it off...
A dripping and shivering General Chambers rode up from the Lewis Ford road. “General, I ran into Bull Sumner back at the junction with the Ball’s Ford road. He reports that his division has cleared that road and that he has cavalry vendettes posted to warn of any enemy advance. Same with the Lewis road; cleared and picketed.”
“Well General Chambers, we’re safe for the night. They’re not coming, at least till dawn. Now, if we can clear this logjam here, we can bring the Corps back to Centerville in good order. I’ve sent the engineers on ahead. They’ll have lines set up for the men to fall in to once they reach the heights.”
Chambers looked around and bit his lip: “What about I Corps? They’re sure to impede our progress…”
“Not as much as I feared, General.” Worth could see the reflection of the torches and bonfires, which somehow burned despite the unceasing rain, in the Marylander’s eyes. “There simply does not seem to be that many of them…”
Chambers gripped his saddle horn tightly and spoke in a tense low voice: “Is the whole Corps gone? Good God, what will the Governor-General say?”
Worth’s smile was bitter. “As I understand it, Matty Van was in favor of this madness, sending half-trained amateurs out to assault fortified positions. Undoubtedly at the behest of His Grace, the Duke…”
He shook his head. “That’s not important now. There’ll be time enough for recriminations if we do succeed in saving Georgetown. But you misunderstand me, General: the reason there isn’t as much impediment from the I Corps survivors as I had feared is explained in a message the engineers have sent back from Centerville. Apparently, as much as half the I Corps has already passed through the town. They’ll be back in Alexandria by mid-morning.”
He snorted in disgust. “Took four days to get to Bull Run. Take I Corps 12 hours to get back…”
___________
Stone Bridge
9 p.m.:
“Sir, I believe General Twiggs is approaching.”
Zach Taylor stood on the Bridge’s southern end, the two Johnstons, A.S. and Joseph, among the circle of officers about him. It was Jeff Davis, however, who first spotted the First Corps commander.
“General Taylor, Sir.” Davy Twiggs was apologetic. “I regret to inform you that my command was not in condition to pursue the Dominions. We became simply too…dispersed…Sir, to respond to your order to advance…”
Taylor looked at the crestfallen Twiggs. This has got to be killing him…in front of all these others…
“You won a victory today, General Twiggs. You essentially, from all reports I have received, destroyed an entire Dominion Corps. It could have been larger, yes. It could have been the battle of annihilation we discussed at Camp Washington. But it was a magnificent victory, General. You correctly saw that the Dominions would offer us their flank coming down Matthews Hill. You routed half their army. My congratulations.
“But now, Sir, we must look to the morning. What is the condition of your Corps now? Can you move on Centerville? Colonel Johnston,” he indicated Albert Sidney, “suggests we probe with cavalry tomorrow while we reorganize and refit. But that will give Bill Worth time to firm up his defenses. Then, we’ll be the ones attacking strong defensive positions…”
Twiggs looked around at the group. He shook his head, the water-soaked hat still dripping despite the rain’s merciful let-up. “I agree with Colonel Johnston, General. My command is too disorganized to mount a successful pursuit. Will be for some time.”
He paused and shook rainwater off his muddy uniform. “General, we did win a victory. But for some of my units, it was a costly one. Yes, some of the Dominion regiments ran like scared deer. But there was fierce fighting in at least two locations, at the little tributary near the Pike and up west where the Run turns. General, we trapped the 2nd Regular Infantry up there. The fighting was hand-to-hand after the ammunition ran out. It used up the equivalent of a brigade…
“And General, I must report that discipline is not what it should be, I had problems…”
Taylor nodded. “With ‘free-lancing.’ Yes, so I have heard. Something about communication, too, I understand…”
He turned to Johnston and the others. “Well gentlemen, it appears to be a consensus. We will limit our pursuit to cavalry; Colonel Mason and his men are already over the Run with orders to make the Yankees’ retreat as uncomfortable as possible. Meanwhile, we will consolidate our position here, see to the wounded and refit as necessary.”
He turned to Jefferson Davis. “Major, you will prepare a preliminary report for President Calhoun. Once I’ve approved it, you will hand-deliver it yourself.” And knowing Calhoun, he’ll make a production out of promoting you on the spot…
General Taylor looked back at his commanders. “I expect we’ll see General Gaines and the Secretary of War in the morning. I half expected them by now…”
A.S. Johnston smiled. “Richmond must be full of rumors. I wonder how many of the good citizens have spotted Yankees coming up Shockoe Hill by now?”
Twiggs joined in the laughter: “They’ll see plenty of Yankees in the next few days. We’ve bagged a lot of prisoners. I hope General Gaines is ready to put them up, show them some real Southern hospitality…” He slapped his hat against his leg and shook his head in embarrassment. “…Damnation, General Taylor! In the heat of the battle, it completely slipped my mind! Second Mississippi reports it took a significant prisoner. I ordered him delivered to your headquarters on Henry Hill, but you must have left before he arrived.” He paused to draw out the surprise: “Apparently my Mississippians captured the Yankee Corps Commander himself, Brig. Gen. John Wool…”
Twiggs grinned as A.S. Johnston himself led a chorus of Rebel Yells.
Taylor, however, did not join in the merriment. “Indeed, General Twiggs. Let’s hope the War Department has provided for these prisoners we’ve collected, including General Wool, if indeed we have him...
“And let’s hope the Department has contingency plans for maintaining this army in the field. Because it is now certain we will be out here for some time. Perhaps until next spring…”
___________
Hill Northwest of
Warrenton Pike near Centerville
November 4, 1833, 1:30 a.m.:
The deluge had slowed and steadied, a cold soaking rain that unequivocally proclaimed the changing of the seasons. Maj. Luke Beaufort, in a blue tarpaulin issued him years before by the USBAA, sat his horse on a wooded hill and watched the spectacle of the Dominion Army in retreat. He was still pondering the gruesome scene he had come across over two hours ago.
His orders from Colonel Mason, the Cavalry Corps commander, had been clear enough: harass the line of retreat; cut off small bodies of stragglers and capture any wagon trains or even single wagons. The CS Army, especially after this all-day battle, was dangerously short of military supplies, from arms and ammunition to medical to cooking utensils. His command had standing orders to ‘appropriate’ anything they could drag back…
That portion of Mason’s orders was at root-cause of the calamity.
B Troop of his 1st Virginia had come across a small wagon train parked off the road leading west from the Pike. That had been around 8 p.m. There were no guards, so Lieutenant Wright ordered his men to take possession. As a detachment of dismounted troopers came up close, they were fired on from at least two of the four wagons. Infuriated on seeing their friends fall from ambush, the rest of the Troop charged. Within minutes all four wagons were overturned and ablaze, their occupants shot, slashed or run down.
“There was no
stoppin’ the boys, Sir,” the Lieutenant had explained when Beaufort arrived on the scene. “Looked for all the world like an unarmed train, carryin’ wounded and such, but then they opened up on us. Soon as the detachment went down, we charged…”
What made the damn fools think they could drive off a full troop of cavalry? Maybe in the rain and twilight, they mistook it for a small patrol. Or maybe they panicked…
At any rate, the train had been carrying wounded. Some of those lying now in the mud were obviously casualties of the day’s fighting, the lost limbs testament to heavier fire than B Troop could muster. The poor bastards who are still alive now probably won’t be, come morning…
Lieutenant Wright left the Major’s side and walked among the dead and wounded Dominions, pointing out the unarmed and the patients the wagons had been transporting. He kicked at bodies clothed in bloodied white coats, doctors and nurses, of course. There were teamsters dead in the harnesses of their teams. Suddenly, the Lieutenant paused and knelt to pull some sort of chain from around the neck of a corpse whose blue uniform was devoid of insignia. The Lieutenant examined his find as he brought it to Luke.
“Look at this Major,” he said quietly. “Know what that is?”
Luke turned it over in his hand, then fingered the carving hanging from the chain. He glanced down at Wright. After Harper’s Ferry, he had attended a celebratory service at Monumental Church with the Lieutenant and knew him to be a fellow Episcopalian. He looked over at the body and then back down at Wright.
“A rosary. Last thing I expected to find on this field. A dead Roman priest…”
___________
Colonel Mason’s arrival caught Beaufort still in his reverie.
“Well Major. Looks like we’ve done all we can. That’s regular infantry coming up the Pike now, the last of all of them. The whole Yankee army---or what’s left of it---is back on those heights.”
