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July 28, 2011

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The first Bull Runners (part two)

By Greyhawk


(Part one here)
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Before the first great battle of the Civil War, a Union soldier could explore the countryside between the opposing lines...

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"In company with Chief of Piece Edward Kearney, a most excellent and companionable young fellow, possessing soldierly qualities of the highest order, I started to visit the battlefield of the 18th. We soon reached the woods where I had seen General Tyler and staff during the fight (having followed the gallant 69th, as related elsewhere). Dismounting, we made our way on foot through the corn field, intending to reach an old log barn which was situated well down and within about 200 yards of Cub Run, where the enemy's pickets were concealed, as we soon discovered.

After leaving the corn field we saw a Confederate hospital flag flying from the roof of a building beyond the stream, but before we could reach the barn several puffs of white smoke down at the Run and the spiteful buzzing of minie-balls in our immediate vicinity admonished us to hug mother earth for safety. Deeming it unadvisable under the circumstances to continue our reconnaissance, having developed the enemy a little too suddenly for our comfort, we retraced our steps, or rather, to state the exact facts, crawled back to the friendly shelter of the growing corn, and so returned to camp without further adventure."

Perhaps more foolish than courageous, Lt James E. Smith had a lot to learn about soldiering and war. He was eager, but he'd joined a unit comprised mostly of men who'd determined - shortly after hearing their first shots fired in anger - they'd learned all they cared to know.

"Coming into the large tent, that evening, used by the Captain and his lieutenants, I was informed that a vote had been taken during my absence whether to remain, or to apply for the discharge that was overdue us, and that I was expected to express my wishes. I asked if my vote would change the result, and was answered in the negative. I then declined to vote. And I, sir, said the Captain sharply, order you to vote. "Very well," was my answer, "then I wish it to be distinctly understood that I vote to remain."

I don't know whether this decision of mine was expected or not, but it certainly was rather ungraciously received, and the chilly atmosphere of the tent became decidedly unpleasant. So I had my servant prepare me a shelter some distance away, and remove my traps to it..."

Smith was the only officer in the unit who had voted to stay and fight. As a 'reward' for his courage, when the time came to deliver the written notice to General McDowell, rather than do it in person his commanding officer, Captain Joshua Varian, sent the lieutenant to do it in his place.

"He gave me a very cool reception, and after reading it remarked in what I considered an exceedingly rude and abrupt manner:

Your discharge will be attended to, sir! and turned his back on me."

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With a battle looming, Varian and company wasted no time in beating feet - striking camp in the middle of the night: "At 1 O'clock on the morning of the 21st the march to the rear began," Smith recalled, "and during the tedious tramp to Washington I made up my mind to organize a battery of my own."


*****

Three days later the New York Times reported that "yesterday evening, the artillery corps arrived in this City from Washington...

Last Thursday, at Bull's Run, it had the honor of firing the first shot at the rebels, and it is reported on good authority that the first shell fired by this battery killed three and wounded ten of the enemy. One hundred and twenty-five men compose this corps, all of whom have returned in excellent health and spirits.
News of the Union defeat at Bull Run had preceded them - but details of their part in the effort had not. On the 26th, Varian's heroes were reportedly on the pier welcoming home other units returning from the battlefield
Capt. VARIAN with his troop of bronzed and hardy-looking artillerists were also on the pier with their two guide colors, torn almost to shreds by the enemy's balls during the late engagement. In their eagerness to do the honors in the promptest manner possible, the order to fire was given one boat too soon, and before the mistake was discovered all the ammunition was expended before the boat containing the regiment was near enough for them to hear the report of the guns. The passengers from Jersey City no doubt enjoyed the honor thus accidentally accorded to them.

But before the month was over, the truth of their actions at the front caught up with them. "If the two guide-colors are 'torn almost to shreds,'" a Times correspondent reported from Washington, "their artillerists must have halted on their march to the war and made their own colors a target, popping them with the pistols they had never yet fired at a foe."

" I  am afraid the good people of New-York are doing quite as much to demoralize our troops, as did the battle of Bull Run. Idolising runaways, and making heroes of cowards, is not the way to grow true patriots and real heroes. The ovation to some of the returning troops looks at this distance like a mockery of valor. For instance, I read in Saturday's TIMES the following, relating to the reception of the Eighth Regiment, New-York State Militia, on their arrival at New-York:

"Capt. VARIAN, with his troop of bronzed and hardy-looking artillerists, were also on the pier, with their two guide colors, torn almost to shreds by the enemy's balls during the late engagement.

And, again, I read of

"Capt. VARIAN's artillery corps, which was in the fight."

Now look at the facts.

"On the Saturday preceding the battle of Bull Run, Capt. VARIAN and his artillerists demanded their discharge -- their time having expired. Gen. MCDOWELL said all that a commander on the eve of a battle could say, to induce them to remain, but without producing any effect. That day Secretary CAMERON visited the camp and the subject being referred to him, partly by coaxing, and partly by truly representing the inglorious action which they contemplated, the artillerists, were induced to notify Gen. MCDOWELL that "with the exception of seventeen, the company would stay with the division, until the time of the regiment expired, on the 25th." After Secretary CAMERON returned to Washington, however, the company took a sober second thought, and late Saturday evening again demanded their discharge from Gen. MCDOWELL. Of course, it had to be granted; and in addition to his other duties, the commander had to provide for mustering them out of the service and sending them to the rear."

Within days Captain Varian responded - and blamed his men: "The chief of one of the pieces made a remark," he wrote the Times, "to the effect that he did not want to remain longer...

" O ne of the officers also made the same remark, adding that it was only on account of their love for me that the men were willing to remain. That they were out of their time and expected to go home, and if I kept them and they got into a fight, I would be held responsible to their families at home.

I then called the officers and chiefs of pieces together, and with the exception of Lieut. SMITH, they decided on going home.... This appeared to have completely changed the feeling of the command, so that I gave up all hope."

Not all hope - just any hope he may have had to actually get into combat. (Though nothing in his story indicates he ever experienced any such desire.) As previously noted, Captain Varian continued his Guard career, and before the decade ended had been promoted to Brigadier General.

*****

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*****

By mid-August 1861 Lt Smith had recruited the first soldier for his new command; by late October his battery departed New York for the war. They would miss the New York City elections the following month, and a chance to support (or oppose) a former comrade-in-arms in a different sort of campaign.

Through that same time period Jimmie Lynch, another ex-soldier of Varian's Battery, went from running from a battle to running for Sheriff - to the astonishment of the editors at the New York Times:

" He was a member of VARIAN's Battery, attached to the Eighth New-York Regiment, concerning which Gen. MCDOWELL, in his official report, of the battle of Bull Run, makes the following black and damning declaration:

"On the eve of the battle the Fourth Pennsylvania Regiment of Volunteers, and the battery of volunteer artillery of the New-York Eighth Militia, whose term of service expired, insisted on their discharge. I wrote to the regiment, expressing a request for them to remain a short time, and the Hon. Secretary of War, who was at the time on the ground, tried to induce the battery to remain at least five days. But in vain. They insisted on their discharge that night. It was granted, and the next morning, when the army moved forward into the battle, THESE TROOPS MOVED TO THE REAR TO THE SOUND OF THE ENEMY'S CANNON."

Should any portion of the people of New-York select for the highest and most lucrative office in their gift a man with such a record?"

The answer was yes, of course. Jimmie was a Democrat, and New York City Mayor Fernando Wood's choice for the job. The Times was a Republican paper - and couldn't have influenced enough voters in that election to matter. Still, they printed (and denounced) Wood's defense of his man:

" My friends, he was at Washington City when that battle was fought!...

And to the immediate complaint that he demanded his discharge and retired to the music of the enemy's cannon,' upon the eve of the battle of Rull Run, I know the fact to be otherwise. The battle of Bull Run was not even contemplated at that time. When his term had expired, he tendered his services to continue, provided there was a prospect of an engagement. So far from expecting an engagement, he was assured that there was no immediate prospect of one. He then continued with his associates on their return to New-York..."

In fact, Wood argued, these accusations against Lynch were actually slanders against all Irishmen everywhere!!!

"JAMES LYNCH is no coward! He belongs to a race that never produces cowards. The Milesians are brave men by tradition. If an Irishman has fixed national characteristics, they are personal courage, love of arms, and fidelity to the cause he espouses. This charge of cowardice or recreancy to duty, or whatever they may call it, against Mr. LYNCH, is an insult to the Irishmen of New-York. It is a charge against them all, and as such I call upon them to resent it."

If not the first, certainly not the last time a politician would play the race card.

And certainly not the last time a politician would lie through his teeth to get what he wanted. Though we've already read Smith's account of his unit's "action" the day of the battle, it wasn't published until three decades after the war.

ltjesmith2.jpg"From early morn until late in the afternoon the constant booming of cannon served to furnish us food for comment as we marched towards home. In the latter part of the day the cannonading became very irregular, at times being quite rapid, then slackening to a desultory fire."

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But most likely even that testimony wouldn't have derailed Lynch's campaign - in 1861 New York City, free elections meant voters could select anyone Fernando Wood wanted for the job; in some districts the mayor's appeal was so great they'd deliver him thousands more votes than there were voters. Thousands of New Yorkers who actually felt strongly over the issue of service were serving - and military absentee ballots were an innovation of the (near) future. But even had they been permitted to express their outrage, that likely wouldn't have mattered either. "I think I am safe in saying," a prominent New Yorker would later recall in a public speech - unchallenged, "that there was no time during the war when Jefferson Davis could not have been elected mayor of this city, over Abraham Lincoln, by twenty thousand majority."

The day after the New York Times editorial denouncing him was printed - less than four months after he'd fled the sound of the guns at Bull Run - James Lynch was "elected" sheriff.


*****


Epilogue

Lynch - candidate of Mayor Fernando Wood's Mozart Hall, wasn't the only Democrat running for Sheriff that day. Tammany Hall's candidate for the office was up-and-comer William Tweed, better known to history as Boss Tweed, a man already determined to seize Wood's exalted position - not as mayor, but rather his place at the top of the city's political machine. Though he lost that day, he would very soon succeed, by some accounts making himself New York's Augustus to Wood's Julius Caesar.

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Tweed's part in ejecting Wood from the Mayor's Office would later be characterized by a biographer as "An act which would cover a multitude of Tweed's sins, were it not that his motive was chiefly his predilection for plunder."

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Shortly after losing his mayoral re-election bid, however, Wood was elected to the United States Congress representing a district in New York City - where he became a leader of the Copperhead Democrats combating Lincoln and the war. He lost that campaign, too - but to the end of his days (he died in that office) he would fight against civil rights for the former slaves whose freedom he'd so steadfastly opposed.

Lynch's reputation would be reformed later - at the expense of truth. At the same time Smith & company could be found in Pennsylvania, recovering from the Battle of Gettysburg, the Sheriff would be observed visiting police headquarters, encouraging New York's Finest in their efforts against the "anti-war" mobs plundering the city during the "draft riots" of July, 1863.

He wanted to know how we were getting on, and when told "All right; bound to win," said,

"Give them grape and canister, G--d d n them!"

- just like the true artillery man he imagined himself to be. The author described him as "Jimmie Lynch, called 'Bull Run Lynch,' from his having been in the battle of Bull Run."

If not the first, certainly not the last politician to enjoy such an unearned boost to his reputation.



Posted by Greyhawk / July 28, 2011 2:25 PM | Permalink
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November 26, 2010


America@war
[Greyhawk]
I think anyone who's ever pondered the "comment" option - once only available on blogs and bulletin boards, now ubiquitous on almost any web site - will appreciate this:
The so-called faculty of writing is not so much a faculty of writing as it is a faculty of thinking. When a man says, "I have an idea but I can't express it"; that man hasn't an idea but merely a vague feeling. If a man has a feeling of that kind, and will sit down for a half an hour and persistently try to put into writing what he feels, the probabilities are at least 90 percent that he will either be able to record it, or else realize that he has no idea at all. In either case, he will do himself a benefit.

That's wisdom from the past, captured for posterity at the US Naval Institute, shared via the web on the institute's 137th anniversary.

From their about page:

The Naval Institute shall remain

INDEPENDENT - A non-profit member association, with no government support, that does not lobby for special interests;

NON-PARTISAN - An independent, professional military association with a mission, goals and objectives that transcend political affiliations; and shall encourage

IDEAS - Through its respected journals Proceedings and Naval History, its conferences, its books and its online content, in support of those who serve.

"The Naval Institute has three core activities," among them, History and Preservation:

The Naval Institute also has recently introduced Americans at War, a living history of Americans at war in their own words and from their own experiences. These 90-second vignettes convey powerful stories of inspiration, pride, and patriotism.

Take a look at the collection, and you'll see it's not limited to accounts from those who served on ships at sea, members of the other branches are well-represented.

I'm fortunate to have met USNI's Mary Ripley, she's responsible for the institute's oral history program (and she's the daughter of the late John Ripley, whose story is told here). She also deserves much credit for their blog. ("We're not the Navy nor any government agency. Blog and comment freely.") We met at a milblog conference - Mary knew (and I would come to realize) that milbloggers are the 21st-century version of exactly what the US Naval Institute is all about. Once that light bulb came on in my head, I mentioned a vague idea for a project to her - milblogs as the 21st century oral history that they are.

"Put that in writing," she said (of course - see first paragraph above!) - and here's part of the result.

Shortly after the first tent was pitched by the American military in Iraq a wire was connected to a computer therein, and the internet was available to a generation of Americans at war - many of whom had grown up online. From that point on, at any given moment, somewhere in Iraq a Soldier, Sailor, Airman or Marine was at a keyboard sharing the events of his or her day with the folks back home. While most would simply fire off an email, others took advantage of the (then) relatively new online blogging platforms to post their thoughts and experiences for the entire world to see. The milblog was born - and from that moment to this stories detailing everything from the most mundane aspects of camp life to intense combat action (often described within hours of the event) have been available on the web...

And et cetera - but since you're reading this on a milblog, you probably knew that. And you know that milblogs aren't just blogs written by troops at war, that many friends, family members, and supporters likewise documented their story of America at war online in near-real time, as those stories developed.

The diversity in membership of that group is broad, the one thing we all have in common is the impulse to make sense of the seemingly senseless, and communicate the tale - for each of us that impulse was strong enough to overcome whatever barriers prevent the vast majority of people from doing the same. Everyone at some point has some vague idea they believe should be shared - we were the people who, from some combination of internal and external urging, found and spent those many half hours persistently trying to write it down.

*****

But where will all that be in another 137 years? Or five or ten, for that matter. That's something I've asked myself since at least 2004 - when I wrote this:

Closing Blogs is nothing new. So many site's owners just give up on their own. They come and go, you know, these MilBloggers do. Like any other sort of blogger. Many post in the lonely down hours far from home, spill their guts for the world, then abandon their spots when the tour of duty is up. They have lives again somewhere in the world, and no need to share the details. So it goes.

Many are truly gone - no site left at all. "The page cannot be found." Other blogs remain, like abandoned defensive positions in shifting desert sands.

Membership in the ghost battalion has grown in the years since, and an ever growing majority of those abandoned-but-still-standing sites are vanishing. Have you checked out Lt Smash's site lately? How about Sgt Hook's? If you're a long-time milblog reader you know the first widely-read milblog from Operation Iraq Freedom and the first widely-read milblog from Afghanistan are both gone from the web. If you're a relative newcomer to this world you may never even have heard of them - or the dozens upon dozens of others who carried forth the standard they set down.

If you have a vague notion that something should be done about that, (a notion I've heard expressed more than once...) then you and I and the good folks at the US Naval Institute are in agreement. Preserving the history documented by the milbloggers is just one of the goals of the milblog project, the once-vague idea that we're now making real.

And it's a big idea, if I say so myself - too big to explain in one simple blog post, so stand by for more. Likewise, it's too big a task to be accomplished by just one person. So if you're a milblogger (and exactly what is a milblogger? is a topic for much further discussion on its own) I'm asking for your help. All I'll really need is just a little bit (maybe just one or two of those half hours...) of your time, and your willingness to tell the tale.

We've already made history, it's time to save it.

(More to follow...)




Posted 4:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) |

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The Mudville Gazette is the on-line voice of an American warrior and his wife who stands by him. They prefer to see peaceful change render force of arms unnecessary. Until that day they stand fast with those who struggle for freedom, strike for reason, and pray for a better tomorrow.
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The Mudville Gazette is written and produced by Greyhawk, who recently retired from 24 years of active duty in the US military, but will maintain this disclaimer: Unless otherwise credited, the opinions expressed are those of the author, and nothing here is to be taken as representing the official position of or endorsement by the United States Department of Defense or any of its subordinate components.

Furthermore, I will occasionally use satire or parody herein. The bottom line: it's my house.

I like having visitors to my house. I hope you are entertained. I fight for your right to free speech, and am thrilled when you exercise said rights here. Comments and e-mails are welcome, but all such communication is to be assumed to be 1)the original work of any who initiate said communication and 2)the property of the Mudville Gazette, with free use granted thereto for publication in electronic or written form. If you do NOT wish to have your message posted, write "CONFIDENTIAL" in the subject line of your email.

Original content copyright © 2003 - 2011 by Greyhawk. Fair, not-for-profit use of said material by others is encouraged, as long as acknowledgement and credit is given, to include the url of the original source post. Other arrangements can be made as needed.

Contact: greyhawk at mudvillegazette dot com

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*****

Tending Distant
Fires


Far from hearth and home, watching
Cold alone but not alone
On distant shore and only wanting
Safe return and little more

What tales we'll tell
When that time comes
When tales can be told

When things grim
Seem far away
When other fires go cold

Some distant sunset, vision fading
Memories remain
And tired eyes gaze 'pon folded flags
While distant drums beat their refrain

Saluting fallen friends whose names
And youth will never fade
Here's to those on other shores,
for them live well, the price is paid

- Greyhawk,
Baghdad,
December 2004