The New York herald., 1921-09-11
Another Bull Run Rout.
The Union Army's Experience Re-
peated by an Amateur Tramp.

To THE New YoRK HERALD: Manassas
seemed appropriate ground for a Yankee
tramp from the North to reconnoitre
before final flight to Washington. 3
revived memories. So left the Southern
Railroad train at that point.
The little town looked promising. Its
railroad station. court house, q few hab-
table houses here and there on its out
skirts. struggling home with q flower
garden hanging like a torn fringe to an
ola garment made 1t seem almost as
ancient to me as was probably the
MANASSAS OF civil war days. Beyond.
virginia highway. muddy and puddled
IN spots by an overnight rain, stretched
red length toward ground once fought
over disastrously by Northern army
and by Southern one with an exultant
shout of victory.
A Virginia highway is not as crowded
as Is Broadway or Fifth avenue, SO
had It pretty much to myself. A mile
from the town was overtaken by a
farmer. He stopped his team and picked
me up.
Where are you going?"- he asked.
told him that was going to the
Bull Run battlefield.
"Oh! the Henry house."
Ills meaning was obscure; later the
significance Of his comment was made
plain to me. He was booming the for
tunes Of the Henry family, whose estate
comprises portion or the old field.
Every tramp. afoot. in a tin Lizzy, in a
high powered car. goes to the Henry
house. Some devout pilgrims. still cling.
Ing faithfully to the memories of LOST
cause. find comfort in viewing the relics
there deposited or IN roaming over the
particular part OF the battlefield that the
rarm embraces. But I was an impe-
cunious Yankee straggler. much like a
routed Blue Of the early sos. retreating
on my base at Washington. and relies
didn't particularly interest me.
MY fortuitous carrier reached his des-
tination. and got down and pursued
my journey afoot, picking my way
over the red highroad or taking the
tall grass Of the roadside to avoid the
muddy morasses~of wagon ruts. / was
glad to be afoot again. Excepting FOR
the pleasure OF gossip a lift is not a.
ways sought for guordon In the wan
derings of the horseiess and motoriess.
Two bits looked good to me, SO l
passed the Henry house, for Its forbid
ding barrier of fencing shut me out. On
the left OF the road opposite to the farm
are woods. Here, IL you stop and muse,
you may resurrect the past. With closed
eyes the Rebel yell, the crack of rifles.
the smell of sulphurous smoke-all the
pomp and circumstances Of war crowd
around you. The victory that made
Richmond exultant, boastful; the defeat
that produced almost panic in WASH
ington. are for a moment real again,
have the thrill Of modernness.
The old stone house that stood. be-
lieve. somewhere about the centre Of the
field is still feature in wide stretch
of Southern landscape. Across the road
and on an eminence at one side OF the
house is a barn. In front Of It is a
meadow. The house itself 10 sombre
looking domicile, SCARED by time. A
farmer. chill shaken. occupied it.
He was friendly fellow, who chatted
with me and gave me the direction and
buried the Union and Confederate sol
dlers who died in the battle, the dis
tance and direction of the stone bridge
which Union force was to cross at a
given stage Of the mscarried plan of
battle to outflank the gray forces Of tho
South.
Hanging against the facade of this
old house by string and swaying In
the wind was what was apparently a
drinking gourd. 1t was, in the express
sive slang OF the United States, a GALA
bash. for 1t was the upper part of
mans Uranium. The farmer had
ploughed 1t up in the corner of a field
near by. 1t was probably the skull OF
a Confederate or Union soldier slain in
that long ago battle, for 1t was broken
and mouldy.
He held 1t up for my inspection.
thought OF Hamlet and the skull OF
Yorick.
1T has been as much handled by vis-
itors as a new baby and less kissed.
Tell me the position Of the head In lifc,"
he said.
poised 1t on my fingers and feeling
for the occipltal bone indicated my mo-
tion OF It.
''Oh, that Is not right; every one
agrees that 1t Is this way" he said,
taking 1t from me and in his vus-
stretched fingers making the eyeless
sockets look skyward.
He may have been right: the man
may have been a poet!
When we had washed our hands he
Invited me into dinner. To dine at a
house on the Bull Run battlefield was
an experience. and besides was
tramp almost at the end OF my re-
sources and hungry.
Reaching Manassas late in the after
noon I entered the ancient court house.
AS I sat on a stairway in it's interior
musing on those old days OF agony the
drone OF voices from an adjoining room
reached me.
How much money have you gotT'
1t was the probe Of policeman who
was questioning an old man who had
wandered Into the town. I heard the
Jingle of coin on a desk.
"Oniy seventy-hve centsi The man
Is tramp. Judge! What shall we do
with him?"
''Take his money and commit him."
the Judge answered with the even tone
OF professional custom.
NY hair stood on end. What II they
should find me sitting on the steps OF
fbeir palace OF Justice with only d