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  PERSONAL NARRATIVES
  OF THE
  BATTLES OF THE REBELLION,

  BEING
  PAPERS READ BEFORE THE
  RHODE ISLAND SOLDIERS AND SAILORS
  HISTORICAL SOCIETY.

  No. 2.

              _"Quaeque ipse miserrima vidi,
  Et quorum pars magna fui."_

  PROVIDENCE:
  SIDNEY S. RIDER
  1878.

  Copyright by
  SIDNEY S. RIDER.
  1878.

  PRINTED BY PROVIDENCE PRESS COMPANY.

  THE RHODE ISLAND ARTILLERY
  AT THE
  FIRST BATTLE OF BULL RUN.

  BY
  J. ALBERT MONROE,
  (Late Lieutenant-Colonel First Rhode Island Light Artillery.)

  PROVIDENCE:
  SIDNEY S. RIDER.
  1878.

  Copyright by
  SIDNEY S. RIDER.
  1878.

THE RHODE ISLAND ARTILLERY AT THE FIRST BATTLE OF BULL RUN.

When the first call for troops, to serve for the term of three months, was
made by President Lincoln, in 1861, for the purpose of suppressing the
rebellion, which had assumed most dangerous proportions to the National
Government, the Marine Artillery, of this city, responded cheerfully to
the call, and under the command of Captain Charles H. Tompkins, left
Providence, April eighteenth, for the seat of war.

The senior officer of the company, who remained at home, was Captain
William H. Parkhurst, then book-keeper at the Mechanics Bank on South Main
Street. Before the company was fairly away, I called upon him and
suggested the propriety of calling a meeting to organize a new company to
take the place of the one that had gone. The suggestion met his views, and
he at once published a notice that a meeting for the purpose would be held
that evening at the armory of the Marines, on Benefit Street. The meeting
was largely attended, and comprised among its numbers a great many of our
most intelligent and influential citizens. A large number of names were
enrolled that night as members of the new company, and arrangements were
made to have the armory open daily, for the purpose of obtaining
additional signatures to the roll of membership. In a few days some three
hundred names were obtained, and every man whose name was enrolled seemed
to take the greatest interest in having the work proceed.

By general consent, rather than by appointment or election, I assumed the
duty of conducting the drills and of reducing matters to a system. It was
supposed at the time that the force already called into the field,
consisting of seventy-five thousand men, would be amply sufficient to
effectually quell the disturbance that had arisen at the South, but there
appeared to be in the minds of all the men who gathered at the Marines'
Armory, a quiet determination to go to the assistance of those who had
already gone, should they appear to need aid. The call for men to serve
for the period of three years put a new phase upon matters. Those whose
private business was of such importance that absence from home that length
of time would injure the interests of others as well as their own,
withdrew, leaving more than a sufficient number to man a full battery.
From that time drilling of the men proceeded uninterruptedly both day and
night. A greater number than the capacity of the armory would admit of
drilling at one time, presented themselves daily. Many of the evenings
were spent in taking the men out on the streets and to vacant lots near
by, exercising them in marching drill. Through the influence of Governor
Sprague the company was furnished with a complete battery of twelve
pounder James guns, which arrived here some time in May, I think, and then
the drills became spirited in exercise in the manual of the piece,
mechanical maneuvres, as well as in marching.

About the first of June Lieutenant William H. Reynolds and First Sergeant
Thomas F. Vaughn of the three months battery, were appointed Captain and
First Lieutenant respectively, and J. Albert Monroe, John A. Tompkins and
William B. Weeden were appointed Second, Third and Fourth Lieutenants, and
they were so commissioned. The commissions should have been one captain,
two first lieutenants and two second lieutenants, but there was so little
knowledge of just the right way to do things at that time, that this error
occurred, and it was not until after the First Battle of Bull Run that it
was corrected.

On the sixth of June, 1861, the company was mustered into the United
States service by Colonel S. Loomis of the United States Army, for the
period of "three years unless sooner discharged," in a large room of a
building on Eddy street.

On the eighth of June, the regular business of soldier's life began by the
company going into camp on Dexter Training Ground. The time was occupied
in detachment and battery drills until the nineteenth of the month, when
the guns, carriages, and the horses also, if my memory serves me, were
embarked on the steamer Kill-von-Kull, at the Fox Point wharf. The steamer
landed at Elizabethport, New Jersey, where the battery and men were
transferred to cars. The train left Elizabethport about four o'clock in
the afternoon. The journey to Washington was a most tedious one.
Harrisburg was not reached until the next morning, and it was not until
the following morning that the train arrived in Washington.

Although the journey was a long one, and tiresome, many incidents
transpired to relieve the tedium of the trip. At Baltimore, which was
passed through in the evening, every man was on the _qui vive_, with
nerves strung to the tension, so great was the fear that an attack might
be made upon us. Every one who had a revolver carried it cocked. A
corporal, who is now a commissioned officer in the regular army, remarked
to me that he never was in such danger in his life, though nothing had
occurred to awaken a sense of danger, except that a small pebble was
thrown, probably by some boys, that hit one of the gun carriages on the
flat car, upon which he and I were riding. The next day rebel flags, in
imagination, were frequently discovered while passing through Maryland.

On our arrival at Washington, the morning of the twenty-second, we were
cordially greeted by Captain Tompkins of the three months battery, and he
and his men lent us every assistance in their power. The company went into
camp in Gale's woods, with the Second Regiment Rhode Island Infantry, and
adjoining were the camps of the three months organizations--the First
Regiment Rhode Island Detached Militia and the First Battery. The ground
occupied by the three months men was already known as "Camp Sprague;" the
ground occupied by the Second Battery and the Second Regiment was named
"Camp Clark," in honor of Bishop Thomas M. Clark, who had taken a great
interest in the raising and the organization of troops in Rhode Island.

Affairs went along more smoothly than could reasonably have been expected
from men just taken from the pursuits of civil life. Captain Reynolds,
with rare tact, won the confidence of all his men and officers. Section
and battery drills took place daily, in the morning, and the afternoons
were generally spent at standing gun drill.

On the ninth of July, while at section drill, a sad accident occurred, by
which Corporal Morse (Nathan T.) and private Bourne (William E.) lost
their lives, and private Freeman (Edward R.) was very seriously injured.
From some unaccountable cause the limber chest upon which they were
mounted exploded, almost instantly killing Morse and Bourne and severely
injuring Freeman. The remains of Morse and Bourne were escorted to the
depot by the company, and there was extended to them a marked tribute of
respect upon their arrival and burial at home.

On the sixteenth of July the battery left Camp Clark at half past one
o'clock in the morning, with the First and Second Rhode Island Regiments,
but it was broad daylight before the command got fairly away from the
vicinity of the camp. Under the lead of Colonel Ambrose E. Burnside, who
had command of the Second New Hampshire, Seventy-first New York, First and
Second Rhode Island Regiments and the battery, as a brigade, the company
marched over Long Bridge to a point about ten miles from Washington,
where the whole brigade bivouacked for the night. The next morning the
march was resumed at day-break, and Fairfax Court House was reached about
half past one in the afternoon. The battery was parked and the company
went into camp near the Court House, on the ground and near the residence
of a Mr. Stephenson, an English gentleman with a large and interesting
family, every member of which appeared to do their utmost to promote our
comfort. Early the next morning, Thursday the eighteenth, the advance
again began and continued with numerous delays until near night-fall, when
camp was established near Centreville, on the plantation of a Mr.
Utteback.

On the morning of Sunday the twenty-first the brigade broke camp and
commenced the march towards Manassas. The march was a tedious and lonely
one until daybreak. The morning broke as clear and lovely as any that ever
opened upon Virginia soil. In the early daylight it seemed to dawn upon
the minds of both officers and men, that they were there for a fixed
purpose, and that the actual business of their vocation was to commence.
Previously, nearly all had thought that upon the approach of the United
States troops, with their splendid equipment and the vast resources behind
them, the "rebel mob," as it was deemed, but which we afterwards learned
to respect as the rebel forces, would flee from their position and
disperse.

General Hunter's column, to which Colonel Burnside's brigade was attached,
was the right of the advancing line, and soon after sunrise the report of
heavy guns to the left told us that the work of the day had commenced.
Steadily, however, the column pushed on, but with frequent halts, until
Sudley Church was reached, where a short stop was made in the shade of the
thick foliage of the trees in the vicinity of the church. The battery was
following the Second Rhode Island, a portion of which were deployed as
skirmishers, and contrary to the custom of throwing them, the skirmishers,
well in advance, they moved directly on the flanks of the column. Suddenly
the outposts of the enemy opened fire, which, to our inexperienced ears,
sounded like the explosion of several bunches of fire crackers.
Immediately after came the order, "FORWARD YOUR BATTERY!" Although the
order was distinctly heard by both officers and men of the battery, I have
never believed that it was definitely known whether it was given by
General McDowell or General Hunter. With most commendable promptness, but
without that caution which a battery commander learns to observe only by
experience. Captain Reynolds rushed his battery forward at once at a sharp
gallop. The road at this point was skirted by woods, but a short distance
beyond, the battery emerged upon an open field, and at once went into
position and opened fire.

The battery was now considerably in advance of the infantry and could
easily have been captured and taken from the field by the enemy, before
the supporting infantry were formed in line of battle; and two years later
under the same circumstances, the entire battery would have been lost; but
neither side hardly understood the rudiments of the art of war. When we
reached the open field the air seemed to be filled with myriads of
serpents, such was the sound of the bullets passing through it. Above us
and around us on every side, they seemed to be hissing, writhing and
twisting. I have been under many a hot fire, but I don't think that, in
nearly four years experience, I ever heard so many bullets in such a short
space of time. Suddenly thrown into a position, the realities of which had
been only feebly imagined and underestimated, it is surprising that all
did so well. I remember the first thing that came into my mind was the
wish that I was at home out of danger's way, and immediately following
came the sense of my obligation to perform every duty of the position that
I filled. The same spirit seemed to animate every man of the battery, and
each and every one worked manfully throughout the day.

Hardly had we arrived on the field, when with almost the rapidity of
lightning it passed from one to another that Sergeant George E. Randolph
was wounded. He was a great favorite with the entire company, his personal
qualities being such as to win the respect and love of all. Although every
one felt that a dark cloud had thrown its shadow over us, still there was
no faltering. Captain Reynolds, who had marked affection for Sergeant
Randolph, sacrificed the impulses of his nature and stuck to his command
to look out for the interests of all.

A great many amusing incidents occurred during the first hour of the
action, that, undoubtedly, have afforded many hours of enjoyment to the
partakers. Two of the corporals seemed to find great relief in getting
behind a limber-chest with its cover opened, though they pluckily
performed their duties, and I confess that I experienced a similar relief
myself when I was obliged to go there once or twice to examine the
ammunition, though I fully realized that it was like a quail running his
head into a snowbank to escape the hunter.

The firing was exceedingly rapid, every one appearing to feel that the
great object was to make as much noise as possible, and get an immense
quantity of iron into the enemy's line in the shortest possible space of
time, without regard to whether it hit anything or not. The firing was
principally directed towards the smoke of a rebel battery, posted near
what is shown as the "Henry House" on the map accompanying General
McDowell's report of the action, but was really the "Lewis House," which
house served as the headquarters of General Beauregard. But very little
attention was paid to the effect of the shot for some time. Considerable
of the fire was directed into a clump of woods in our immediate front, in
which was quite a force of rebel infantry, and I have reason to believe
that this fire was very effective; for, upon visiting the spot during the
action of the Second Bull Run I found the trees thickly scarred at the
height where the shot would be likely to do the most execution.

We had with us a young man, who was hardly more than a mere boy, by the
name of Henry H. Stewart, who had been taken out from here by Captain
Reynolds to act as an orderly and guidon, who, while nearly every one else
was excited and everything was in confusion, preserved, apparently, the
utmost coolness, moving from point to point as calmly as if performing the
ordinary duties of parade, and it was not until I ordered him so to do
that he dismounted from his horse. But the coolest one of our number, and,
I believe, the coolest man on the field that day, was Sergeant G. Lyman
Dwight. When the storm of bullets was thickest and the rebel artillery
was delivering upon us its heaviest fire, Dwight would step aside from the
smoke from his gun, and seemed perfectly absorbed by the sublime and
magnificent spectacle. Once or twice he called my attention to the
glorious scene, but I was too much engaged and my mind was too much
occupied in thinking how we were to get out of the "glorious scene" to
take much pleasure in the observance of it. Dwight was associated with me,
more or less, during the whole war, and I found in his character more
admirable qualities than I ever found possessed by any other man, and the
objectionable qualities of his nature I could never discover. War had no
terrors for him, and his æsthetic taste found beauties to admire even
under the most adverse circumstances. When the leaden rain and iron hail
were thickest, I have known him to muse upon philosophy, and to repeat a
quotation from some favorite author applicable to the situation and
circumstances. He was quick and unerring, and no emergency could arise
that would deprive him of his full self-possession. This is digressing
from my subject, but my admiration for him was such, that I feel
justified in thus alluding to a life that was practically lost in the war,
though his death did not take place until within the past year.

About one or two hours after the engagement began, Captain Reynolds, with
Lieutenants Tompkins and Weeden, went off to the right of our position
with two guns, which were placed in position near the Doogan House, I
think, where they went earnestly at work. During their absence, Sergeant
John H. Hammond, of my section, reported to me that he was entirely out of
ammunition, and as I knew that there was no reserve supply for the James
gun within available distance, I directed him to take his piece to the
rear, to some safe place and wait for orders. I remained with my other
piece and the pieces of Lieutenant Vaughn. Either before or after this, a
shot from the enemy struck the axle of one of the pieces, which entirely
disabled it.[1] The gun was dismounted and slung under its limber and
immediately taken from the field. The mechanical maneuvres that the men
had been exercised in before they left home, for the first time now found
opportunity for practical application, and the slinging of the piece was
performed as thoroughly as upon the floor of the drill-room.

Sometime after mid-day Governor Sprague, accompanied by Captain Reynolds,
rode up to me and said, "Monroe, can't you get your guns over on the hill
there, where those batteries are?" The batteries referred to were those of
Captains Ricketts and Griffin, which were then in position near the
"Henry" or "Lewis" House. Without any thought, except to take the pieces
to that position, I ordered my remaining piece and one of Lieutenant
Vaughn's forward, and accompanied by Captain Reynolds proceeded across the
turnpike and up the road leading to the place where the two batteries were
in position. The day was a very hot one, and I remember that my thirst, at
this time, was almost unendurable. Crossing the turnpike, I saw a pool of
muddy water which appeared like the watering places beside our New
England country roads, where they are crossed by rivulets or brooks.
Although the water was muddy and the dead bodies of a man and a horse were
lying in it, so great was my thirst, I could not resist the inclination to
dismount to slake it, and did so. Quickly remounting, I went forward with
the section through what appeared to be a lane, on a side hill, which was
completely filled with infantry, who had been hotly engaged in the fight
since the opening of the battle. Just as we diverged to the right in order
to secure the ground between the two batteries, a shot came very near to
me, and turning my head, I saw Captain Reynolds go off his horse. I
supposed, of course, that he was hit, and started to his assistance, but
to my surprise he jumped up nimbly and remounted, saying, "That about took
my breath away." The shot must have passed within a few inches of him, and
was what afterwards was known in soldier's parlance, as "a close call."

We pushed forward and got the pieces in position between Ricketts's and
Griffin's batteries, but before a single shot could be fired, the fatal
mistake of the day occurred, the mistake of supposing a rebel command to
be a portion of our own forces. Thick and fast their bullets came in upon
us, and they were fast approaching in their charge, when with almost
superhuman energy, and with a rapidity that I never saw excelled and I
think I never saw equaled, our cannoneers limbered to the rear and we
withdrew with a loss in material of only a caisson, the pole of which was
broken in the endeavor to turn on the side hill, and there was no time
then to stop for repairs. Here private Bubb (Frederick) lost his life, and
private Vose (Warren L.) was wounded and taken prisoner. A bullet went
through my cap and ploughed a little furrow in my scalp. Jumping from my
horse to assist Sergeant Wilcox (G. Holmes) in limbering his piece, the
animal dashed off frightened by the confusion, and I was obliged to ride
to the rear on the stock of the gun carriage.

Arriving on the northerly side of the turnpike, we were joined by Captain
Reynolds near the "Doogan" House, and shortly after by Lieutenant Weeden.
Captain Reynolds said that he had just seen Arnold, (Captain of the
regular artillery) who had lost his battery. I hastened with the two guns
off to the left, to the position that we first occupied in the morning,
and, going into battery, commenced firing. The men worked steadier and
cooler than they had at any time during the day. All at once there emerged
from the timber in our front, a regiment or brigade of the enemy,
evidently preparing for a charge upon us, and simultaneously came an
order, from Captain Reynolds, I believe, to limber to the rear. I could
not resist the temptation, in spite of the order, to give them one more
shot before parting, and I directed the left piece to be loaded with
canister. As the piece was fired, the enemy, apparently, was just ready to
move forward on their charge. It appeared to me that a gap of full twenty
feet was made in their line, which completely staggered them. This, I
think, was the last shot fired on the field that day. The first one was
fired by Sergeant Dwight.

Leaving the field on foot with this piece, I found the remainder of the
battery a short distance away on the road, moving toward Centreville.
Procuring a horse from one of the sergeants, I returned to the field in
search of the horse that I had lost, for which I had great affection. The
scene was one of indescribable confusion, although there appeared to be no
fright or terror in the minds of the men who were leaving the field.
Officers seemed to have lost all identity with their commands, subalterns
and even colonels moving along in the scattered crowd as if their work was
over and they were wearily seeking the repose of their domiciles. The
scene was such as to remind one of that which can be seen daily in any
large manufacturing town or village, when the operatives, let loose by the
expiration of their hours of labor, all set out for their respective
homes. During working hours the system for work is maintained, but upon
the ringing of the bell, all depart according to their respective bents
and wills. So upon this field, the general impression seemed to be that
the day's work was done and that the next thing in order was repose. There
were a few notable exceptions. I remember well a large and powerful man, a
field officer of what I took to be a Maine regiment--at any rate he and
his men were uniformed in gray--using the most strenuous exertions to get
his men together. He coaxed, threatened and applied to them every epithet
that he seemed capable of, but all to no purpose. The idea of the men
seemed to be that their work was over for the day, and that they were
going home to rest, not realizing apparently, that whether on or off duty,
they were subject to the orders that their officers deemed best to give.

The bullets began to whistle uncomfortably thick, and I gave up the search
for my horse, and rejoined the battery, then moving along the road in good
order, in which condition it continued until the head of the column
reached the foot of the hill at the base of which flowed what is known as
Cub Run. Here was a bridge rendered impassable by the wrecks of several
baggage wagons. In the ford at the left was an overturned siege gun,
completely blocking up that passage, and the right ford was completely
filled with troops and wagons. Of course the leading team of the battery
had to halt, and it was impossible to stop the rear carriages on the steep
hill, so that the column became only a jumbled heap of horses, limbers,
caissons and gun carriages. To add to the confusion, just at this moment a
rebel battery in our rear opened fire, and it seemed as if every one of
their shots came down into our very midst. The men immediately set to work
taking the horses from their harnesses, after doing which they mounted
upon them in the most lively manner. Some horses carried only a single
passenger, others had on their backs doublets and some triplets. Still,
notwithstanding all this confusion, there did not seem to me to be what
has been almost universally reported, "a perfect panic." It appeared to me
only that confusion which of necessity must arise from the sudden breaking
up of organization.

I forded the run on the right hand, or down stream side of the bridge.
Going up the hill after crossing, I overtook Captain Reynolds who crossed
a little in advance of me, and just as I rode along side of him, a shot
from the enemy's artillery struck the ground only a few feet from us.
Unsophisticated as I was, I could not understand why they should continue
to fire upon us when we were doing the best that we could to let them
alone, and I said to Captain Reynolds, "What do you suppose they are
trying to do?" His reply was a characteristic one: "They are trying to
kill every mother's son of us; that is what they are trying to do," the
truth of which was very forcibly impressed upon me as shot after shot came
screeching after us in rapid succession.

After getting beyond range of their lire, each one exerted himself to get
together as many members of the battery as possible, and upon reaching
Centreville all who had collected together assembled at the house of Mr.
Utteback, which we had left in the morning. Captain Reynolds and most of
the others, took up their quarters on the stoop or piazza of the house. I
was suffering severely from a lame leg, which had been injured during the
action by the recoil of a piece, and having won the good graces of the
family during our stay there, I asked for more comfortable quarters, and
was given a nice bed. About two o'clock in the morning, I was awakened and
informed that orders had been received to leave for Washington at once.
While I was dressing, one of the daughters of Mr. Utteback slipped into
the room with a flask of wine which she handed to me with the remark, "I
think you may need this before you reach Washington," and she added,
"Don't, for Heaven's sake, tell anybody of it." The act was an extremely
kind one, for from the moment of our arrival on the farm, every member of
the family had been besieged for liquor of any kind, but they had
persistently refused to furnish any, declaring that they had not a drop in
the house. I concealed the flask under my vest and found its contents of
great cheer and comfort during our long night ride.

Upon going out of the house to resume the march, I found, to my surprise,
that some time during the night, private Scott (Charles V.) had arrived in
camp with the piece that I had sent off the field under Sergeant Hammond
for want of ammunition. Upon enquiring of Scott for the particulars of his
becoming possessed of it, he informed me that he got strayed from the
company, and while picking his way through the woods, came upon the piece
with all or a portion of the horses still hitched to it. Calling upon some
infantry men near by, who were also estray, he mounted one horse himself
and directed them to mount the other horses, and together they took the
piece to Centreville. Its advent was hailed with special delight by every
member of the battery. Sergeant Hammond told me that he followed his
instructions to the letter; that after directing his cannoneers to serve
with the other pieces, he took the piece well to the rear and sought an
obscure, and, as he thought, a secure place, and with his drivers remained
by it awaiting orders. During the afternoon some cavalry appeared in their
near vicinity, and supposing them to be rebel cavalry, they fled, knowing
that if they attempted to take the piece with them, it would be captured
and they would certainly be taken with it. It is highly probable that the
cavalry they saw were a part of our own forces, but such had been the
rumors and talk of rebel cavalry, its efficiency and the terrible work it
was capable of performing, that the appearance of even a solitary horseman
was enough to strike terror to the hearts of half a dozen ordinary men.
Sergeant Hammond and his drivers rejoined the company at Centreville,
assumed command of his piece, and took it to Washington with the
company.[2]

We reached Fort Runyon about six o'clock in the morning, but no troops
were allowed to cross Long Bridge. I remember seeing Colonel Burnside
about daylight that morning, pushing forward all alone, considerably in
advance of the main column. Occasionally he would stop and look back as if
to assure himself that all was right in that direction, as far as it could
be right; then he would again push forward. About ten o'clock it became
plain that he was looking out for the welfare of his command both in front
and rear, for an order was received to allow Colonel Burnside's brigade to
cross the bridge, the first who were allowed the privilege of returning to
the camps that they had left and which seemed to them like home. In
passing through the streets of Washington to our Camp Clark the sidewalks
were lined with people, many of whom furnished us with refreshments.

The act of private Scott was finally rewarded by the bestowing upon him a
commission as Second Lieutenant, in 1864. The piece was presented by the
General Assembly of the State of Rhode Island to Governor Sprague, who
placed it in trust with the Providence Marine Corps of Artillery, in whose
armory it is now kept.

THIS PAPER WAS READ BEFORE THE RHODE ISLAND SOLDIERS AND SAILORS
HISTORICAL SOCIETY, DECEMBER FIRST, 1875.

Footnotes:

[1] At the conclusion of the reading of this paper, Governor Sprague and
William A. Sabin, formerly a member of the battery, gave it as their
recollection that the stock of the gun carriage broke on account of the
extreme elevation of the gun, and that it was not hit by the enemy's shot;
but a letter of mine, written after the battle, implies that the gun
carriage was struck by a shot.

[2] This account of the saving of the one piece from capture, does not
agree with the statement in Stone's "Rhode Island in the Rebellion," 1864,
nor with the "Adjutant General's Report, State of Rhode Island, 1865,"
which repeats the statement of Mr. Stone. The testimony of Sergeant
Hammond is herewith subjoined, also that of Captain Charles D. Owen:

The account given by Colonel Monroe, of the manner in which was saved from
capture one of the pieces of his section, at the first battle of Bull Run,
of which piece I was sergeant, is substantially correct.

  JOHN H. HAMMOND,
  _Formerly Sergeant Battery A, First R. I. L. A.,
  Late Lieutenant H. G., R. I. V._

To the best of my recollection the account as given by Colonel Monroe is
correct.

  CHAS. D. OWEN,
  _Formerly Sergeant Battery A, R. I. L. A.,
  Late Captain Battery G, R. I. L. A._

Transcriber's Note:

Both "day-break" and "daybreak" appear on page 12 in the original text.


End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rhode Island Artillery at the
First Battle of Bull Run, by J. Albert Monroe
{'title': 'The Rhode Island Artillery at the First Battle of Bull Run by J. Albert Monroe', 'source': 'Project Gutenberg', 'lang': 'en'}