near Washington 23 July 1861

A sketch of the battle of Bulls Run when we met the enimy and they oferd fire on us:
(by special correspondence to the Sunday Mercury from the battlefield.)

*

While the Artillery seemed
to be assembling for conference

amid the sun-dried bowlders,
fishwives scolded and nagged

railing excitedly into
an unspeakable jumble
a rising of din over battle.

*

An Officer waved his
gauntleted hand sweeping

wildly at the air
of unwilling curses

despite being dragged at heals
by a besplashed charger
the western sky along.

*
Partly smothered in red
as a blue haze of evening

settled upon the field
he was loosed to the ground

rising to the level of his feet
twisting with the movement
plunged he deep into earth.

Pressing his hands
through the wound

a single afflicted groan
wrenched from him

causing him to expire
his face, then painted
stupefied with a smile.



obeedude/03/may/07

Note: This poem is an impression and a fiction of my imagination. It is based on the letters I have read ,as well as the recent novels that I have consumed such as the Red Badge of Courage. I tookArt's suggestion and added what seemed like period language that I created. It is dated after the actual battle, as if it were a letter written from Washington, when the New York State Militia would have been straggling back to their camps, and writing home to describe what had transpired in thisdisastrous battle and its aftermath. The actual event described here-in may well have taken place at any battle during the civil war. I chose Bull Run (or Bulls Run as many of the participants called it)because it was a battle of confusion and tragic blunders on both sides. The Confederates won but muchto their surprise, the Union lost miserably and to their surprise were so devastated that many injuries and losses took place in the stampede from the battlefield. As I said, there were Débutantes and Senators out for a picnic to watch on a lark. Before they knew it, they went from picnic to panic.