⚫for about an hour.. The enemy in the mean time, knowing our position, endeavored to dislodge us with their shells, which for some time came hissing over our heads, and exploded harmlessly in our rear. Finally, however, they lowered their guns sufficiently to cause their shot to touch the crest of the hill, and ricochet into our very midst, killing one man, besides wounding several, and maiming a number of horses. But we still retained our position amid the noise of battle, which now became terrific.

From the distance came the roar of the enemy's artillery, while near by our field-pieces were incessantly vomiting their showers of grape and hurling their small shell into the very teeth of the foe. At intervals, as regiments came face to face, the unmistakable rattle of the musketry told that the smallarms of our brave boys were doing deadly work. At times, we could hear wild yells and cheers which rose above the din, as our infantry rushed on to the charge. Then followed an ominous silence, and I could imagine the fierce but quiet work of steel to steel, until another cheer brought me knowledge of the baffled enemy.

Meanwhile, our reinforcements were pouring by, and pressing with enthusiastic cheers to the battle-field. On the other hand, many of our wounded were borne past us to the rear. One poor fellow was shot through the left cheek; as he came past me, he smiled, and muttered with difficulty, "Boys, they've spoilt my beauty." He could say no more, but an expression of acute pain flitted across his face, and shaking his clenched fist in the direction of the foe, he passed on. Another came by, shot in the breast. His clothing had been stripped from over his ghastly wound, and at every breath, the warm life blood gushed from his bosom. I rode up to him, as, leaning on two compan. ions, he stopped for a moment to rest. “My poor fellow,” said I, “I am sorry to see you thus." "Yes! yes," was his reply, "they've done for me now, but my father's there yet! our army's there yet! our cause is there yet!" and raising himself from the arms of his companions, his pale face lighting up like a sunbeam, he cried with an enthusiasm I shall never forget, "and Liberty's there yet!" But this spasmodic exertion was too much for him, a purple flood poured from his wound, and he swooned away. I was enthusiastic before, but I felt then as if I could have ridden singly and alone upon a regiment, regardless of all but my country's cause.

Just then, the noble Beauregard came dashing by with his staff, and the cry was raised, that part of Sherman's battery had been taken. Cheer after cheer went up from our squadrons. It was taken up and borne along the whole battle-field, until the triumphant shout seemed one grand cry of victory. At this auspicious moment, our infantry who had been supporting the batteries were ordered to rise and charge the enemy with the bayonet. With terrific yells, they rushed upon the Federal legions with an impetuosity which could not be withstood, and terror-stricken, they broke and fled like deer from the cry of wolves. Our men followed hard upon them, shouting, and driving their bayonets up to the hilt in the backs of such of the enemy as by ill luck chanced to be hindmost in the flight.

At this moment, one of Gen. Beauregard's aids rode rapidly up and spoke to Col. Radford, commander of our regiment of Virginia cavalry, who immediately turned to us and shouted, "Men, now is our time!" It was the happiest moment of my life. Taking a rapid gallop, we crossed Bull Run about three-quarters of a mile below the Stone Bridge, and made for the rear of the

now flying enemy. On we dashed, with the speed of the wind, our horses wild with excitement, leaping fences, ditches, and fallen trees, until we came opposite to the house of Mrs. Spindle, which was used by the enemy as a hos pital, and in front of which was a small cleared space, the fence which inclosed it running next the timber. Leuping this fence, we debouched from the woods with a demoniacal yell, and found ourselves on the flank of the enemy.

The remnant of Sherman's battery was passing at the time, and thus we threw ourselves between the main body of the enemy and Sherman's battery, which, supported by four regiments of infantry, covered the retreat of the Federal army. Our regiment had divided in the charge, and our detachment now consisted of Capt. Wickham's cavalry, Capt. E. B. Powell's troop of Fairfax cavalry, the Radford Rangers, Capt. Radford, the whole led by Col. Radford.

Our onslaught was terrific. With our rifles and shot-guns, we killed forty. nine of the enemy the first discharge, then drawing our sabres, we dashed upon them, cutting them down indiscriminately.

With several others, I rode up to the door of the hospital in which a number of terrified Yankees had crowded for safety, and as they came out, we shot them down with our pistols. Happening at this moment to turn round, I saw a Yankee soldier in the act of discharging his musket at the group stationed around the door. Just as he fired, I wheeled my horse, and endeavored to ride him down, but he rolled over a fence which crossed the yard. This, I forced my horse to leap, and drawing my revolver, I shouted to him to stop; as he turned, I aimed to fire into his face, but my horse being restive, the ball intended for his brain, only passed through his arm, which he held over his head, and thence through his cap. I was about to finish him with another shot (for I had vowed to spare no prisoners that day), when I chanced to look into his face. He was a beardless boy, evidently not more than seventeen years old. I could not find it in my heart to kill him, for he plead piteously; so seizing him by the collar, and putting my horse at the speed, leaping the fence, I dragged him to our rear-guard.

Just at this moment, I saw that the enemy had unlimbered two field-pieces, and were preparing to open upon us. Capt. Radford was near me, and I pointed to the cannon. He dashed the spurs into his horse, and shouted, Charge the battery." But only twenty of our men were near, the rest having charged the rear of the main body of the flying Federals. Besides this, the cannon were supported by several regiments of infantry. We saw our situa tion at a glance, and determined to retreat to the enemy's flank. We were very close to the battery, and as I wheeled my horse, I fired a shot from my revolver at the man who was aiming the piece. He reeled, grasped at the wheel, and fell. I had thrown myself entirely on the left side of my horse, my foot hanging upon the croup of the saddle, and the grape consequently passed over me. Capt. Radford was in advance of me, his horse very unruly, plunging furiously. As I rode up, he uttered a cry, and put his hand to his side. At this instant, we came to a fence, and my horse cleared it with a bound. I turned to look for Capt. Radford, but he was not visible. A grape-shot had entered just above the hip, and tearing through his bowels, passed out of his left side. He fell from his steed, which leaped the fence and ran off. The captain was found afterwards by some of Col. Munford's cavalry. He lived till sunset, and died in great agony. By this discharge

were killed, besides Capt. R., a lieutenant, two non-commissioned officers, and five privates.

Having gained the flank of the enemy, I dismounted and fired for some time with my rifle into the passing columns. Suddenly I found myself entirely alone, and remounting, I rode back until I found Col. Munford's column drawn up in the woods. Not being able to find my own company, I returned to the pursuit.

Kemper's battery had dashed upon the horror-stricken foe, and opened on their rear, which was covered by the remainder of Sherman's battery, including the thirty-two pound rifle-gun, known as "Long Tom." The havoc produced was terrible. Drivers were shot from their horses, torn to pieces by the shells and shot. Cannon were dismounted, wheels smashed, horses maimed, and the road strewn with the dead. This completed the rout, and the passage of Cub Run was blocked by wagons and caissons being driven into the fords above and below the bridge, and upon the bridge itself.

The route taken by the flying enemy was blocked with dead. I saw Yankees stone-dead, without a wound. They had evidently died from exhaustion or sheer fright. Along the route we found the carriage of Governor Sprague of Rhode Island, and in it his overcoat, with several baskets of champagne. The necks of the bottles were snapped in a trice, and we drank to our victory. But our delight and pride can scarcely be imagined, when we found “Long Tom," whose whistling shells had been falling continually among us from early dawn. It was hauled back to Bull Run amid the shouts of our men, and particularly Kemper's artillery boys, who acted so well their part in causing the Federals to abandon it.

* * * * * * * * The following morning, in the dark drizzling rain, I rode over the field of battle. It was a sorrowful and terrible spectacle to behold, without the stirring excitements of battle to relieve the horrors of the ghastly heaps of dead that strewed the field. At a distance, some portions of the field presented the appearance of flower-gardens, from the gay colors of the uniforms, turbans, &c., of the dead Zouaves. The faces of many of the dead men were already hideously swollen, blotched, and blackened, from the effects of the warm, wet atmosphere of the night.

In a little clump of second-growth pines, a number of wounded had crawled for shelter. Many of our men were busy doing them offices of kindness and humanity. There was one New York Zouave who appeared to be dying; his jaws were working, and he seemed to be in great agony. I poured some wa ter down his throat, which revived him. Fixing his eyes upon me, with a look of fierce hatred, he muttered, "You d-d rebel, if I had a musket I would blow out your infernal soul." Another pale youth was lying in the wet undergrowth, shivering in the rain, and in the cold of approaching death. He was looking wistfully towards a large, warm blanket spread across my saddle, and said in his halting, shivering breath, "I'm so cold." I spread the blanket over him, and left him to that end of his wretchedness which coud not be far distant.

9

CHAPTER V.

Results of the Manassas Battle in the North.-General Scott.-McClellan, "the Young Napoleon."-Energy of the Federal Government.-The Bank Loan.-Events in the West. The MISSOURI CAMPAIGN.-Governor Jackson's Proclamation.-Sterling Price.-The Affair of Booneville.-Organization of the Missouri forces.-The BATTLE OF CARTHAGE.-General McCulioch.-The BATTLE OF OAK HILL.-Death of General Lyon. The Confederate Troops leave Missouri.-Operations in Northern Missouri.— General Harris.-General Price's march towards the Missouri.-The Affair at Drywood Creek.-The BATTLE OF LEXINGTON.-The Jayhawkers.-The Victory of "the Five Hundred."--General Price's Achievements.-His Retreat and the necessity for it. Operations of General Jeff. Thompson in Southeastern Missouri.-The Affair of Fredericktown.-General Price's passage of the Osage River.-Secession of Missouri from the Federal Union.-Fremont superseded.-The Federal forces in Missouri demoralized.-General Price at Springfield.-Review of his Campaign.-SKETCH OF GENERAL PRICE.-Coldness of the Government towards him.

THE Northern mind demanded a distinguished victim for its humiliating defeat at Manassas. The people and government of the North had alike flattered themselves with the expectation of possessing Richmond by midsummer; their forces were said to be invincible, and their ears were not open to any report or suggestion of a possible disaster. On the night of the 21st of July, the inhabitants of the Northern cities had slept upon the assurances of victory. It would be idle to attempt a description of their disappointment and consternation on the succeeding day.

The Northern newspapers were forced to the acknowledgment of a disaster at once humiliating and terrible. They assigned various causes for it. Among these were the non-arrival of General Patterson and the incompetence of their general officers. The favorite explanation of the disaster was, however, the premature advance of the army under General Scott's direction; although the fact was, that the advance movement had been undertaken from the pressure of popular clamor in the North.

The clamor was now for new commanders. It came from the army and the people indiscriminately. The commanderin-chief, General Scott, was said to be impaired in his faculties by age, and it was urged that he should be made to yield the

command to a younger and more efficient spirit. The railing accusations against General Scott were made by Northern journals that had, before the issue of Manassas, declared him to be the "Greatest Captain of the Age," and without a rival among modern military chieftains. It was thought no alleviation of the matter that he was not advised, as his friends represented, of the strength of " the rebels." It was his business to have known it, and to have calculated the result.

General Scott cringed at the lash of popular indignation with a humiliation painful to behold. He was not great in misfortune. In a scene with President Lincoln, the incidents of which were related in the Federal House of Representatives by General Richardson, of Illinois, he declared that he had acted "the coward," in yielding to popular clamor for an advance movement, and sought in this wretched and infamous confession the mercy of demagogues who insulted his fallen fortunes.

The call for a "younger general" to take command of the Federal forces was promptly responded to by the appointment of General G. B. McClellan to the command of the Army of the Potomac. The understanding on both sides of the line was, that General Scott was virtually superseded by the Federal government, so far as the responsibility of active service was concerned, though he retained his nominal position and pay as lieutenant-general and commander-in-chief of the Army of the United States. The unfortunate commander experienced the deep humiliation and disgrace of being adjudged incompetent by the North, whose cause he had unnaturally espoused, and whose armies he had sent into the field as invaders of the land of his birth. The retribution was righteous. No penalties of fortune were too severe for a general who had led or directed an army to trample upon the graves of his sires and to despoil the homes of his kindred and country.

General McClellan had been lifted into an immense popularity by his successes in Northwestern Virginia, in the affair of Rich Mountain and the pursuit of General Garnett, which Northern exaggeration had transformed into great victories. For weeks he had been the object of a "sensation." His name was displayed in New York, on placards, on banners, and in newspaper headings, with the phrase, "McClellan-two victo