In the early days of September 1861, Peter Byrne traveled from his home in Carbondale, Pennsylvania, to Washington, D.C. The 61-year-old attorney arrived at Camp Lyon, on the Potomac River north of the capital, to visit his son Martin J. Byrne, a lieutenant in the 1st Pennsylvania Light Artillery.

The Irish-born lawyer described the northern defenses of Washington as the first summer of the Civil War drew to a close. He captured the talk among officers in camp, the movement of troops across the Chain Bridge into Virginia, and his own effort to navigate behind Union lines on a pass that named him “Colonel Byrne.”

Byrne wrote with such command of the military situation because he had lived it. He had served in the militia in New York in the 1830s and again in Pennsylvania in the 1840s, rising to lieutenant colonel – a title he went by for the rest of his life. Carbondale was then part of Luzerne County, and in 1859 and 1860 voters elected Byrne to the Pennsylvania Legislature, making him the first Irish-born legislator to represent the county in Harrisburg.

From the Luzerne Union, September 18, 1861

---

A Visit to Camp Lyon

For the Luzerne Union.

SIR: 

On the third inst. I arrived at Camp Lyon, late in the afternoon, and found the artillery on drill, that is, company “C” of “the 1st Penn. R. C. of Artillery.”

 I was much pleased with the accuracy and velocity of the movements and exercise of the company, which I think is not inferior to any battery under Col. Sherman, or any other commander in the same arm of the service. I profess to know something of “gunning and fortification.”

Camp Lyon, called after the late and lamented General of that name, is located on the left bank of the river Potomac, and near the Chain Bridge, which crosses the river at that place and leads into Fairfax county, Virginia, and about some seven miles northwest of Washington. 

The camp is well fortified by redouts and breastwork and well mounted with two batteries. The smaller guns can sweep the bridge, and the heavier the opposite shore and to some extent the country. 

There were, I presume, some 20,000 men encamped in and about that vicinity, and like every army of any utility, called into service, was composed of the three arms of war – cavalry, infantry and artillery. The new ventilated round tents looked well, for use and comfort. After taking an observation of the camp and opposite bluffs, ravines and wood, and commenting on all I saw, we returned to the Lieutenant’s tent, (whom I went to see,) and about 9 P.M. orders came: “to prepare for marching, take twenty hours rations, and prepare for battle.” 

Just then came Capt. Simpson, who commands company C battery, in Smith’s brigade. He harangued his men, told them, when the moment of battle came, that he would shoot the first man who attempted to run from his duty. The first Lieut., M. J. B. [his son Martin J. Byrne], said he supposed the orders were reciprocal, and if he, the Captain, attempted to run, he should expect the same fate. Capt. S. said “all right.”

Then, about ten o’clock, the cavalry went over the bridge, probably two regiments. At half past ten, and up to nearly eleven, I could hear from the tent, distinctly, the infantry (some thousands) cross the bridge; and about a quarter past 11 the artillery took up their line of march, and passed the bridge also into Virginia; then, after, more infantry, until I presume from that point 20,000 men passed into Virginia.

The next day, Wednesday, September 4th, I had business in Washington, and returned to Camp Lyon that evening. Several regiments had, however, arrived there in the mean time, and amongst others the 79th… [page torn]. 

There remained in the camp, only some few sick and the guards. I would also observe that Captain Mott, of N.Y., had command of the batteries, and I believe well understands the charge of his battery.

I had felt rather anxious, if there was a battle, to be either on the ground or near it, but as I was in citizen’s dress, I knew the guard would not let me pass, so I put on a uniform which I found in the tent, and thus, once more in military, I passed the bridge and joined the artillery. 

The enemy were about two and a half miles distant, the cavalry were some distance in advance, with orders, if attacked, to retreat along the road behind the line of battle. The left was composed of infantry drawn up in an acute angle to the line of road, the right of the left wing was on a vacant dwelling and some trees, and the left of said line rested on some trees. 

In the centre, on a line parallel with the road, was the artillery battery, composed of some six pieces, where the guns could “fire in barbette.” But as your readers don’t understand terms of fortification, I shall explain: There were sharpened stakes pointed and firmly planted between the guns, so that it was impossible for either the rebel infantry or cavalry to pass between them, besides green boughs were placed so as it might be called a masked battery. 

In the rear of the battery, and resting near the right of the same, and about 100  yards distant, was the right wing infantry, and drawn up at nearly right angles to the diagonal road; but none of the troops were west of the road. In front of the artillery were acres of woods, just cut down, so the plan was to let the enemy advance up to the mouths of the pieces, then open fire, and attack them in flank, and the cavalry then turn the left and right wings to recharge them in the centre. All admirably planned.

There I stood in the pouring rain from about 9½ A.M. to nearly 3 P.M., every moment expecting the pickets would be driven in with the cavalry. True, I was in the rear of the pieces and caissons some 20 yards, but ready to assist, either the wounded or handle the rammer and sponge. But the rascals did not come, and Gen. (I believe) McDowell passed through the lines with one aid, his spy glass hanging by his side. 

They then had orders to advance on Falls Church, so I left for the Chain Bridge on horseback, with a colored man belonging to the company. His horse seemed to lag, or he was afraid to ride; but when I arrived there Gen. Smith of that brigade had given orders to let no one cross the bridge without a pass; but I had none, so there I was in Virginia.

I returned to the guard house on the western side of the bridge. The Captain of the guard told me he was from N.Y. City, and a son to the Prussian Consul, I think; his name was hard to pronounce. So it was: I cannot remember it; I told him I could soon show him who I was, and luckily in my valise I had my pass to Camp Curtin, given me by Gen. Hale, wherein he styled me Col. Byrne. I had also some R. R. passes wherein I was dubbed Hon. 

Thus the Captain then very kindly treated me, and pressed me to share the contents of his canteen, wrote out a pass for “Col. Byrne,” and thus I passed the Chain Bridge into D.C. to Camp Lyon.

I would say that of all the miserable roads I ever saw, Virginia takes the lead. It seems to me that a company of sappers and miners should attend each… but our hardy volunteers do the work themselves. I think there are some three regiments of Vermont men, and some N. Y. infantry and artillery, as well as Simpson’s Pennsylvania Battery, in that brigade. 

The men and officers all looked well and were in high spirits and each was anxious to meet the rebel traitors. I must also say that Capt. Simpson, his officers and men, are most energetic and well drilled. Indeed, the whole Union troops, so far as I saw, are under excellent discipline. 

It is all nonsense to think the rebel army will make an attack on Washington. Perhaps they may try to get into Maryland, but as I understand, Gov. Bates is moving south, and the rebels will, I presume, make some point of concentration, if possible, keep open the road to Richmond. I hope the enemy will be hemmed in, and in less than one month close the war in Virginia.

Now, Mr. Editor, if this hasty sketch be worth insertion, please push it in your paper, 

And oblige, &c.,

P. BYRNE.

---

Read the previous letter from the Letters from War: 1861 series.

---

This is part of an ongoing series called “Letters from War: 1861” that will share correspondence written on the front lines during the turbulent first year of the Civil War.

---

---