Letter from Edwin Slater, Civil War Soldier
Chenango Telegraph, August 7, 1861
Letter Extract
We make the following extract from a private letter from Edwin Slater, who was in the recent battle of Bull's Run, to his relatives in North Norwich [Chenango Co., NY]. Mr. Slater is in the gallant New York Fire Zouave Regiment which immortalized itself upon that occasion.
"...Having a few leisure moments, I thought I would write to let you know how we are getting along. On the 16th of July we were ordered to march and drove the enemy from Fairfax. We followed and drove them on. We had a light brush on the 19th by coming upon a masked battery. Only a few men were lost. Our Division was not engaged. The enemy made a stand at a place called Bull's Run on the morning of the 21st. We were ordered to march, and after a march of nine miles we arrived within half a mile of the field. The roar of the cannon, the crack of the muskets and rifles, the wounded being brought by us, all tended to nerve us for what we were to pass through. when within sight of our battery we were ordered to halt, and strip for the fight. I rolled up my shirt sleeves, grasped my musket and on we went. We were marched into the field, the fight commenced and soon became general. More, I cannot tell you now, only that our regiment was the first in, of our division, and the last out. We went into the field at 11 a.m., and came out a half past four p.m. The number of killed and wounded I could not judge of. Two hundred black horse cavalry charged on us and only three escaped mounted. A good many of our men were shot down, but they fought like devils, while the enemy were cowards and ran like sheep at every charge. We had about 20,000 men while the enemy were said by deserters to have had 100,000 men. I was wounded in the side by a musket ball--only a flesh wound. I did not mind it much. When we left the field we marched 42 miles to our old encampment at Shooter's Hill without rest, but we are anxious to "go in" again. I am all right and have not been off duty on account of my wound. A cannon ball passed so near my head as to knock me down but did not do me any harm.
Yours Truly, Edwin
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