A horrid front they form,Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm.
A horrid front they form,Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm.
A horrid front they form,Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm.
A horrid front they form,
Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm.
I had no faith in the sabre as a weapon. I only made the men draw their sabres to prevent them from wasting their fire before they got to closer quarters. I knew that when they got among them the pistol would be used. My success had been so uninterrupted that the men thought that victory was chained to my standard. Men who go into a fight under the influence of such feelings are next to invincible, and are generally victors before it begins. We had hardly got into position before the head of the pursuing column appeared over the hill, less than 100 yards off. They had expected to see our backs, and not our faces. It was a rule from which, during the war, I never departed, not to stand still and receive a charge, but always to act on the offensive. This was the maxim of Frederick the Great, and the key to the wonderful successes he won with his cavalry. At the order to charge, my men dashed forward with a yell that startled and stunned those who were foremost in pursuit. I saw them halt, and I knew then that they had lost heart and were beaten. Before they could wheel, my men were among them. Those who were coming up behind them, seeing those in front turn their backs, did the same thing. They had no idea they were running away from the same number of men they had been chasing. My men had returned their sabres to their scabbards, and the death-dealing revolver was now doing its work.
The Union cavalry had assumed, as I thought they would, that my retreat had only been feigned to draw them into a trap. They could not understand why I ran away just to run back again. They had no time to ascertain our numbers or to recover from the shock of their surprise in finding us drawn up to receive them. I never witnessed a more complete rout, or one with less cause for it. The chase continued two or three miles. It was almost dark when we stopped. I remember that in the first set of fours that led the charge were three young men, James W. Poster, Thomas W. Richards, and William L. Hunter, to whom I gave commissions for their gallant conduct. They all have since won honorable positions in civil life. We left the killed and wounded on the field, brought off thirty-six prisoners and about fifty horses. By strategy and hard fighting, four times our numbers had been defeated. The only casualty in my command happened to Major Hibbs, who had his boot-heel shot off. He had been one of the foremost leaders in the charge, and like Byron's corsair, everywhere in the thickest of the fight "shone his mailed breast and flashed his sabre's ray." When the "Major" rode up to me, after the fight was over, he was almost a maniac, he was so wild with delight. And when, in the presence of all the men, I praised his valor, he could no longer contain himself; he laughed and wept by turns. All that he could say in reply was: "Well, Captain, I knew the work had to be done, and that was the way to do it." One thing is certain, the Major got a good horse as a reward. The regiment we had fought happened to be the very one to which Ames had belonged, and from which he had deserted a few weeks before to join me. He had gone through their ranks like an avenging angel, shooting right and left. He took a malicious pleasure in introducing some of his old comrades to me. I could not help feeling a pang of regret that such courage as his should be stained with dishonor. It was Hoskins's first fight with me. He said it was better than a fox chase. I recall his image now as it rises above the flood of years, as he hewed his path through the broken ranks. It was a point of honor or of military etiquette with him to use his sword and not his pistol. In this way he lost his life. I reported to Stuart the result of the engagement and received from him the following letter in reply:
Headquarters Cavalry Division,Army of Northern Virginia,March 27, 1863.Captain:—Your telegram announcing your brilliant achievement near Chantilly was duly received and forwarded to General Lee. He exclaimed upon reading it:"Hurrah for Mosby! I wish I had a hundred like him."Heartily wishing you continued success, I remain your Obedient servant,J. E. B. STUART,Major-General Commanding.Captain J. S. Mosby,Commanding, etc.Fairfax Court-House, March 23, 1863.Sir:—At 5P.M., our picket in front of Chantilly was attacked. The videttes were on the alert, and gave the alarm. The reserve of about 70 men were immediately under arms, and charged the enemy, who fled for 2 miles along the Little River turnpike. Between Saunder's toll-gate and Cub Run there is a strip of woods about a half a mile wide through which the road runs. Within the woods, and about a quarter of a mile apart, are two barricades of fallen trees; our troops pursued the enemy between these barricades. Behind the latter, some of the enemy were concealed. The head of the column was here stopped by a fire of carbines and pistols, and also by a fire upon the flank from the woods. The column broke, and was pursued by the enemy 1½ miles. It was then rallied by the exertions of Majors Bacon and White. Captains McGuinn and Hasbrouck, when they heard of the alarm, proceeded on a gallop from Fryingpan, and, joining Major White's command, pursued the enemy for 8 miles. Night coming on, and the enemy being more numerous than we were, and our horses exhausted, the column halted and returned to Chantilly. The line of pickets is now established. Our loss is, killed, Corporal Gilles, Company H. Fifth New York Cavalry; James Doyle, Company C; John Harris, Company L. Mortally wounded, Sergeant Leahey, Company C. Lieutenant Merritt taken prisoner.ROBT. JOHNSTONE,Lieutenant Colonel Commanding.Col. R. Butler Price,Commanding Cav. Brig.[Indorsement.]Headquarters Army Northern Virginia,March 26, 1863.General:—On the 25th [23] instant Capt. Mosby attacked and routed a body of the enemy's cavalry on the Little River turnpike, near Chantilly. He reports 10 killed and wounded—and a lieutenant and 30 [35] men, with their horses, arms, and equipments captured. He sustained no loss … etc.R. E. LEE,General.Fauquier County, Va., April 7, 1863.General:—I have the honor to submit the following report of the operations of the cavalry under my command since rendering my last report. On Monday, March 16, I proceeded down the Little River pike to capture two outposts of the enemy, each numbering 60 or 70 men. I did not succeed in gaining their rear as I expected, and only captured 4 or 5 videttes. It being late in the evening, and our horses very much jaded, I concluded to return. I had gone not over a mile back when we saw a large body of the enemy's cavalry, which, according to their own reports, numbered 200 men, rapidly pursuing. I feigned a retreat, desiring to draw them off from their camps. At a point where the enemy had blockaded the road with fallen trees, I formed to receive them, for with my knowledge of the Yankee character I knew they would imagine themselves fallen into an ambuscade. When they had come within 100 yards of me I ordered a charge, to which my men responded with a vim that swept everything before them. The Yankees broke when we got in 75 yards of them; and it was more of a chase than a fight for 4 or 5 miles. We killed 5, wounded a considerable number, and brought off 1 lieutenant and 35 men prisoners. I did not have over 50 men with me, some having gone back with the prisoners and others having gone on ahead, when we started back, not anticipating any pursuit. On Monday, March 31, I went down in the direction of Dranesville to capture several strong outposts in the vicinity of that place. On reaching there I discovered that they had fallen back about 10 miles down the Alexandria pike. I then returned 6 or 8 miles back and stopped about 10 o'clock at night at a point about 2 miles from the pike. Early the next morning one of my men, whom I had left over on the Leesburg pike, came dashing in, and announced the rapid approach of the enemy. But he had scarcely given us the information when the enemy appeared a few hundred yards off, coming up at a gallop. At this time our horses were eating; all had their bridles off, and some even their saddles—they were all tied in a barnyard.Throwing open the gate I ordered a counter-charge, to which my men promptly responded. The Yankees never dreaming of our assuming the offensive, terrified at the yells of the men as they dashed on, they broke and fled in every direction. We drove them in confusion seven or eight miles down the pike. We left on the field nine of them killed—among them a captain and lieutenant—and about fifteen too badly wounded for removal; in this lot two lieutenants. We brought off 82 prisoners, many of these also wounded. I have since visited the scene of the fight. The enemy sent up a flag of truce for their dead and wounded, but many of them being severely wounded, they established a hospital on the ground. The surgeon who attended them informs me that a great number of those who escaped were wounded. The force of the enemy was six companies of the First Vermont Cavalry, one of their oldest and best regiments, and the prisoners inform me that they had every available man with them. There were certainly not less than 200; the prisoners say it was more than that. I had about 65 men in this affair. In addition to the prisoners, we took all their arms and about 100 horses and equipments. Privates Hart, Hurst, Keyes and Davis were wounded. The latter has since died. Both on this and several other occasions they have borne themselves with conspicuous gallantry. In addition to those mentioned above I desire to place on record the names of several others, whose promptitude and boldness in closing in with the enemy contributed much to the success of the fight. They are Lieutenant Chapman (late of Dixie Artillery), Sergt. Hunter and Privates Wellington and Harry Hatcher, Turner, Wild, Sowers, Ames and Sibert. There are many others, I have no doubt, deserving of honorable mention, but the above are only those who came under my personal observation. I confess that on this occasion I had not taken sufficient precautions to guard against surprise. It was 10 [o'clock] at night when I reached the place where the fight came off on the succeeding day. We had ridden through snow and mud upwards of 40 miles, and both men and horses were nearly broken down; besides, the enemy had fallen back a distance of about 18 miles….JOHN S. MOSBY,Captain Commanding.Maj.-Gen. J. E. B. Stuart.[Indorsements.]Headquarters Cavalry Division,April 11, 1863.Respectfully forwarded, as in perfect keeping with his other brilliant achievements. Recommended for promotion.J. E. B. STUART,Major-General.Headquarters Army Northern Virginia,April 13, 1863.Respectfully forwarded for the information of the Department. Telegraphic reports already sent in.R. E. LEE,General.April 22, 1863.Adjutant-General:—Nominate as major if it has not been previously done.J. A. S. [SEDDON],Secretary.
Headquarters Cavalry Division,Army of Northern Virginia,March 27, 1863.
Captain:—Your telegram announcing your brilliant achievement near Chantilly was duly received and forwarded to General Lee. He exclaimed upon reading it:
"Hurrah for Mosby! I wish I had a hundred like him."
Heartily wishing you continued success, I remain your Obedient servant,
J. E. B. STUART,Major-General Commanding.
Captain J. S. Mosby,Commanding, etc.
Fairfax Court-House, March 23, 1863.
Sir:—At 5P.M., our picket in front of Chantilly was attacked. The videttes were on the alert, and gave the alarm. The reserve of about 70 men were immediately under arms, and charged the enemy, who fled for 2 miles along the Little River turnpike. Between Saunder's toll-gate and Cub Run there is a strip of woods about a half a mile wide through which the road runs. Within the woods, and about a quarter of a mile apart, are two barricades of fallen trees; our troops pursued the enemy between these barricades. Behind the latter, some of the enemy were concealed. The head of the column was here stopped by a fire of carbines and pistols, and also by a fire upon the flank from the woods. The column broke, and was pursued by the enemy 1½ miles. It was then rallied by the exertions of Majors Bacon and White. Captains McGuinn and Hasbrouck, when they heard of the alarm, proceeded on a gallop from Fryingpan, and, joining Major White's command, pursued the enemy for 8 miles. Night coming on, and the enemy being more numerous than we were, and our horses exhausted, the column halted and returned to Chantilly. The line of pickets is now established. Our loss is, killed, Corporal Gilles, Company H. Fifth New York Cavalry; James Doyle, Company C; John Harris, Company L. Mortally wounded, Sergeant Leahey, Company C. Lieutenant Merritt taken prisoner.
ROBT. JOHNSTONE,Lieutenant Colonel Commanding.
Col. R. Butler Price,Commanding Cav. Brig.
[Indorsement.]
Headquarters Army Northern Virginia,March 26, 1863.
General:—On the 25th [23] instant Capt. Mosby attacked and routed a body of the enemy's cavalry on the Little River turnpike, near Chantilly. He reports 10 killed and wounded—and a lieutenant and 30 [35] men, with their horses, arms, and equipments captured. He sustained no loss … etc.
R. E. LEE,General.
Fauquier County, Va., April 7, 1863.
General:—I have the honor to submit the following report of the operations of the cavalry under my command since rendering my last report. On Monday, March 16, I proceeded down the Little River pike to capture two outposts of the enemy, each numbering 60 or 70 men. I did not succeed in gaining their rear as I expected, and only captured 4 or 5 videttes. It being late in the evening, and our horses very much jaded, I concluded to return. I had gone not over a mile back when we saw a large body of the enemy's cavalry, which, according to their own reports, numbered 200 men, rapidly pursuing. I feigned a retreat, desiring to draw them off from their camps. At a point where the enemy had blockaded the road with fallen trees, I formed to receive them, for with my knowledge of the Yankee character I knew they would imagine themselves fallen into an ambuscade. When they had come within 100 yards of me I ordered a charge, to which my men responded with a vim that swept everything before them. The Yankees broke when we got in 75 yards of them; and it was more of a chase than a fight for 4 or 5 miles. We killed 5, wounded a considerable number, and brought off 1 lieutenant and 35 men prisoners. I did not have over 50 men with me, some having gone back with the prisoners and others having gone on ahead, when we started back, not anticipating any pursuit. On Monday, March 31, I went down in the direction of Dranesville to capture several strong outposts in the vicinity of that place. On reaching there I discovered that they had fallen back about 10 miles down the Alexandria pike. I then returned 6 or 8 miles back and stopped about 10 o'clock at night at a point about 2 miles from the pike. Early the next morning one of my men, whom I had left over on the Leesburg pike, came dashing in, and announced the rapid approach of the enemy. But he had scarcely given us the information when the enemy appeared a few hundred yards off, coming up at a gallop. At this time our horses were eating; all had their bridles off, and some even their saddles—they were all tied in a barnyard.
Throwing open the gate I ordered a counter-charge, to which my men promptly responded. The Yankees never dreaming of our assuming the offensive, terrified at the yells of the men as they dashed on, they broke and fled in every direction. We drove them in confusion seven or eight miles down the pike. We left on the field nine of them killed—among them a captain and lieutenant—and about fifteen too badly wounded for removal; in this lot two lieutenants. We brought off 82 prisoners, many of these also wounded. I have since visited the scene of the fight. The enemy sent up a flag of truce for their dead and wounded, but many of them being severely wounded, they established a hospital on the ground. The surgeon who attended them informs me that a great number of those who escaped were wounded. The force of the enemy was six companies of the First Vermont Cavalry, one of their oldest and best regiments, and the prisoners inform me that they had every available man with them. There were certainly not less than 200; the prisoners say it was more than that. I had about 65 men in this affair. In addition to the prisoners, we took all their arms and about 100 horses and equipments. Privates Hart, Hurst, Keyes and Davis were wounded. The latter has since died. Both on this and several other occasions they have borne themselves with conspicuous gallantry. In addition to those mentioned above I desire to place on record the names of several others, whose promptitude and boldness in closing in with the enemy contributed much to the success of the fight. They are Lieutenant Chapman (late of Dixie Artillery), Sergt. Hunter and Privates Wellington and Harry Hatcher, Turner, Wild, Sowers, Ames and Sibert. There are many others, I have no doubt, deserving of honorable mention, but the above are only those who came under my personal observation. I confess that on this occasion I had not taken sufficient precautions to guard against surprise. It was 10 [o'clock] at night when I reached the place where the fight came off on the succeeding day. We had ridden through snow and mud upwards of 40 miles, and both men and horses were nearly broken down; besides, the enemy had fallen back a distance of about 18 miles….
JOHN S. MOSBY,Captain Commanding.
Maj.-Gen. J. E. B. Stuart.
[Indorsements.]
Headquarters Cavalry Division,April 11, 1863.
Respectfully forwarded, as in perfect keeping with his other brilliant achievements. Recommended for promotion.
J. E. B. STUART,Major-General.
Headquarters Army Northern Virginia,April 13, 1863.
Respectfully forwarded for the information of the Department. Telegraphic reports already sent in.
R. E. LEE,General.
April 22, 1863.
Adjutant-General:—Nominate as major if it has not been previously done.
J. A. S. [SEDDON],Secretary.
"Olympicum pulverem collegisse juvat."—Horace.
"Olympicum pulverem collegisse juvat."—Horace.
"Olympicum pulverem collegisse juvat."—Horace.
"Olympicum pulverem collegisse juvat."—Horace.
Afterthe fight at Chantilly and division of the booty the men who were with me, as usual, disappeared. Of the original fifteen who had come with me from the army for temporary service, five or six had been captured one night at a dancing frolic. Beattie was not in this party when he was made a prisoner, but was captured in a fight. I gave notice of a meeting at Rector's X roads, in Loudoun County, for the 31st of March. I had no idea until I got on the ground how many men I would have to go with me on my next raid, although I was confident that the success of my last one would attract a good many soldiers who were then at their homes on furlough. I was promptly there at the appointed time, and very soon sixty-nine men mustered to go with me. This was the largest force I had ever commanded up to that time. The shaking up of a kaleidoscope does not produce more variegated colors than the number of strange faces that appeared among them. I had never seen more than a dozen of them before, and very few of them had ever seen each other. I remember that there were several of the Black Horse Company with them. The force, therefore, lacked the cohesion and esprit de corps which springs from discipline and the mutual confidence of men who have long been associated together. I had no subordinate officer to aid me in command. They were better dressed, but almost as motley a crowd as Falstaff's regiment. There were representatives of nearly all the cavalry regiments in the army, with a sprinkling of men from the infantry, who had determined to try their luck on horseback. A good many of this latter class had been disabled for performing infantry duty by wounds; there were others who had been absent from their regiments without leave ever since the first battle of Bull Run. There were a number of the wounded men who carried their crutches along tied to their saddle bows. As soon as their commanders heard that I had reclaimed and converted them once more into good soldiers they not only made requisition to have them returned to their regiments, but actually complained to General Lee of their being with me.
Now I took a practical and not a technical view of the question, and when a man volunteered to go into a fight with me I did not consider it to be any more a duty of mine to investigate his military record than his pedigree. Although a revolutionary government, none was ever so much under the domination of red tape as the one at Richmond. The martinets who controlled it were a good deal like the hero of Moliere's comedy, who complained that his antagonist had wounded him by thrusting incarte, when, according to the rule, it should have been intierce. I cared nothing for the form of a thrust if it brought blood. I did not play with foils. The person selected to feed the army was a metaphysical dyspeptic, who it is said, lived on rice-water, and had a theory that soldiers could do the same. A man, to fill such a position well, should be in sympathy with hungry men, on the principle that he who drives fat oxen must himself be fat. When I received these complaints, which were sent through, but did not emanate from headquarters, I notified the men that they were forbidden any longer to assist me in destroying the enemy. They would sorrowfully return to their homes. It was no part of my contract to spend my time in the ignoble duty of catching deserters. I left that to those whose taste was gratified in doing the work. Several of these men, who had been very efficient with me, were, on my application, transferred to me by the Secretary of War. I always had a Confederate fire in my rear as well as that of the public enemy in my front. I will add that I never appealed in vain for justice either to General R. E. Lee, General Stuart, or the Secretary of War, Mr. Seddon.
And now, again, on the 31st of March, I set out once more to tempt fortune in the Fairfax forests. The men who followed me with so much zeal were not, perhaps, altogether of the saintly character or excited by the pious aspirations of the Canterbury pilgrims who knelt at the shrine of Thomas à Becket. Patriotism, as well as love of adventure, impelled them. If they got rewards in the shape of horses and arms, these were devoted, like their lives, to the cause in which they were fighting. They were made no richer by what they got, except in the ability to serve their country. I did not hope for much on this expedition. The enemy had grown wary and were prepared for attack at every point. But I knew that if I dispersed the men without trying to do something I would never see them again.
The spring campaign was about to open, and most of them would soon be recalled to the army, and I would be left a major without a command. I concluded to attack the detached cavalry camp at Dranesville. In a letter to Stuart a few weeks before, I had suggested that the cavalry brigade then stationed at Culpepper Court House should do this. I said: "There are about three hundred cavalry at Dranesville who are isolated from the rest of the command, so that nothing would be easier than to capture the whole force. I have harassed them so much that they do not keep their pickets over half a mile from camp." For some reason, Stuart did not undertake it. The reason was, I suppose, that he was saving his cavalry for the hard work they would have to do as soon as Hooker crossed the Rappahannock.
The enterprise looked hazardous, but I calculated on being able to surprise the camp, and trusted a good deal to my usual good luck. Ames, Dick Moran, Major Hibbs, and John Underwood, who never failed to be on time, went with me. I thought I would vary my tactics a little this time, and attack about dusk. They would hardly look for me at vespers; heretofore I had always appeared either in the daytime or late at night. I got to Herndon Station, where I had had the encounter two weeks before with the Vermont cavalry, about sundown, and learned there that the camp at Dranesville, which was about three miles off, had been broken up on the day before, and the cavalry had been withdrawn beyond Difficult Run, several miles below. This stream has its proper name, as there are few places where it can be crossed, and I knew that these would be strongly guarded. So it was hopeless to attempt anything in that direction. As I was so near, I concluded to go on to Dranesville that night, in hopes that by chance I might pick up some game. After spending an hour or so there, we started up the Leesburg pike to find a good place with forage for camping that night. I expected that our presence would be reported to the cavalry camps below, which would probably draw out a force which I could venture to meet. As all the forage had been consumed for several miles around, we had to march five or six miles to find any. About midnight we stopped at Miskel's farm, which is about a mile from the turnpike and just in the forks of Goose Creek and the Potomac.
Although it was the last day of March, snow was still lying on the ground, and winter lingered on the banks of the Potomac. My authority over the men was of such a transitory nature that I disliked to order them to do anything but fight. Hence I did not put out any pickets on the pike. The men had been marching all day, and were cold and tired. The enemy's camps were about fifteen miles below, and I did not think they could possibly hear of us before the next morning, when we would be ready for them, if they came after us. We fed and picketed our horses inside the barnyard, which was surrounded by a strong fence. Sentinels were stationed as a guard over the horses, and to arouse us in the event of alarm. Many of the men went to bed in the hay-loft, while others, including myself, lay down on the floor in the front room of the dwelling-house, before a big log fire. With my head on my saddle as a pillow, I was soon in a deep sleep. We were within a few hundred yards of the river, and there were Union camps on the other side; but I had no fear of them that night. About sunrise the next morning, I had just risen and put on my boots when one of the men came in and said that the enemy on the hill over the river was making signals. I immediately went out into the back yard to look at them. I had hardly done so, when I saw Dick Moran coming at full speed across the field, waving his hat, and calling out, "The Yankees are coming!"
He had stopped about two miles below, near the pike, and spent the night with a friend; and just as he woke up, about daylight, he had seen the column of Union cavalry going up the pike on our trail. By taking a short cut across the fields, he managed to get to us ahead of them. The barnyard was not a hundred yards from the house; and we all rushed to it. But not more than one-third of our horses were then bridled and saddled. I had buckled on my arms as I came out of the house. By the time we got to the inclosure where our horses were, I saw the enemy coming through a gate just on the edge of a clump of woods about two hundred yards off. The first thing I said to the men was that they must fight. The enemy was upon us so quick that I had no time to bridle or saddle my horse, as I was busy giving orders. I directed the men not to fire, but to saddle and mount quickly. The Union cavalry were so sure of their prey that they shut the gates after passing through, in order to prevent any of us from escaping. As Capt. Flint dashed forward at the head of his squadron, their sabres flashing in the rays of the morning sun, I felt like my final hour had come. Another squadron, after getting into the open field, was at the same time moving around to our rear. In every sense, things looked rather blue for us. We were in the angle of two impassable streams and surrounded by at least four times our number, with more than half of my men unprepared for a fight. But I did not despair. I had great faith in the efficacy of a charge; and in the affair at Chantilly had learned the superiority of the revolver over the sabre. I was confident that we could at least cut our way through them. The Potomac resounded with the cheers of the troops on the northern bank, who were anxious spectators, but could not participate in the conflict. When I saw Capt. Flint divide his command, I knew that my chances had improved at least fifty per cent. When he got to within fifty yards of the gate of the barnyard, I opened the gate and advanced, pistol in hand, on foot to meet him, and at the same time called to the men that had already got mounted to follow me. They responded with one of those demoniac yells which those who once heard never forgot, and dashed forward to the conflict "as reapers descend to the harvest of death." Just as I passed through the gate, at the head of the men, one of them, Harry Hatcher, the bravest of the brave, seeing me on foot, dismounted, and gave me his horse. Our assailants were confounded by the tactics adopted, and were now in turn as much surprised as we had been. They had thought that we would remain on the defensive, and were not prepared to receive an attack. I mounted Harry Hatcher's horse, and led the charge. In a few seconds Harry was mounted on a captured one whose rider had been killed. When the enemy saw us coming to meet them they halted, and were lost.
The powerful moral effect of our assuming the offensive, when nothing but surrender had been expected, seemed to bewilder them. Before they could recover from the shock of their surprise Captain Flint, the leader, had fallen dead in their sight. Before the impetuous onset of my men they now broke and fled. No time was given them to re-form and rally. The remorseless revolver was doing its work of death in their ranks, while their swords were as harmless as the wooden sword of harlequin. Unlike my adversaries, I was trammelled with no tradition that required me to use an obsolete weapon. The combat was short, sharp and decisive. In the first moment of collision, they wheeled and made for the gate which they had already closed against themselves. The other squadron that had gone around us, when they saw their companions turn and fly, were panic-stricken and forgot what they had been sent to do. Their thoughts were now how to save themselves. Our capture was now out of the question. They now started pell-mell for the gate in order to reach it ahead of us. But by this time our men had all mounted, and like so many furies were riding and shooting among their scattered ranks. The gate was at last broken through by the pressure, but they became so packed and jammed in the narrow passage that they could only offer a feeble resistance, and at this point many fell under the deadly fire that was poured in from behind. Everywhere above the storm of battle could be heard the voices and seen the forms of the Dioscuri—"Major" Hibbs and Dick Moran—cheering on the men as they rode headlong in the fight. Dick Moran got into a hand-to-hand conflict in the woods with a party, and the issue was doubtful, when Harry Hatcher came up and decided it. There was with me that day a young artillery officer—Samuel F. Chapman—who at the first call of his State to arms had quit the study of divinity and become, like Stonewall Jackson, a sort of military Calvin, singing the psalms of David as he marched into battle. I must confess that his character as a soldier was more on the model of the Hebrew prophets than the Evangelist or the Baptist in whom he was so devout a believer. Before he got to the gate Sam had already exhausted every barrel of his two pistols and drawn his sabre. As the fiery Covenanter rode on his predestined course the enemy's ranks withered wherever he went. He was just in front of me—he was generally in front of everybody in a fight—at the gate. It was no fault of the Union cavalry that they did not get through faster than they did, but Sam seemed to think that it was. Even at that supreme moment in my life, when I had just stood on the brink of ruin and had barely escaped, I could not restrain a propensity to laugh.
Sam, to give more vigor to his blows, was standing straight up in his stirrups, dealing them right and left with all the theological fervor of Burly of Balfour. I doubt whether he prayed that day for the souls of those he sent over the Stygian river. I made him a captain for it. The chase was kept up for several miles down the pike. When the people at Dranesville saw Capt. Flint pass through that morning in search of me, they expected to see him return soon with all of us prisoners. Among the first fugitives who had passed through, and showed the day's disasters in his face, was a citizen who had hurried down the night before to the camp of the Vermont cavalry to tell them where I was. Thinking that Captain Flint had an easy thing of it, he had ridden with him as a pilot, to witness my humiliation and surrender. He escaped capture, but never returned to his home during the war. I doubt whether his loyalty ever received any reward. He was also the first man to get back to the camp he had left that morning on Difficult Run, where he was about as welcome as the messenger who bore to Rome the tidings of Cannæ. The reverend Sam was not satisfied with the amount of execution he had done at the gate, but continued his slaughter until, getting separated in the woods from the other men, he dashed into a squad of the Vermont men, who were doing their best to get away, and received a cut with a sabre. But one of my men, Hunter, came to his rescue, and the matter in dispute was quickly settled. Down the pike the Vermont cavalry sped, with my men close at their heels. Lieutenant Woodbury had got three miles away, when a shot from Ames laid him low. They never drew rein or looked back to see how many were behind them. I got pretty close to one, who, seeing that he was bound to be shot or caught, jumped off his horse and sat down on the roadside. As I passed him he called out to me, "You have played us a nice April fool, boys!" This reminded me that it was the first day of April. Some of the men kept up the pursuit beyond Dranesville, but I stopped there. The dead and wounded were strewn from where the fight began, at Miskel's, for several miles along the road. I had one man killed and three slightly wounded. I knew that as soon as the news reached the camps in Fairfax a heavy force would be sent against me, so I started off immediately, carrying eighty-three prisoners and ninety-five horses, with all their equipments.
At Dranesville were two sutlers' stores that had not been removed by their owners when the camps were broken up. These were, of course, appropriated, and helped to swell the joy of the partisans. A more hilarious party never went to war or a wedding than my men were returning home. Danger always gives a keener relish for the joys of life. They struck up a favorite song of Tom Moore's, "The wine cup is sparkling before us," and the woods resounded with the melody. The dead and wounded were left on the field to be cared for by citizens until their friends could come after them. The number of prisoners I took exceeded the number of my men. One of my command—Frank Williams—had ridden early that morning to the house of a farmer to get his breakfast. The Vermont cavalry came up and got between him and us, and so Frank had to retreat. He, however, took two of them prisoners who had straggled off on the same errand, and carried them along with him. As he had seen such an overwhelming force go down upon us, and as he knew that we were hemmed in by deep water on two sides, Frank took it for granted that my star had set forever. He started off to carry the news, and reached Middleburg that day, when he informed the citizen of what he supposed was our fate. There was, of course, loud lamentation over it, for many had a son or a brother or a lover there. Frank had been there an hour or so anxiously waiting to hear something from us, but dreading the worst, when suddenly a blue column was seen coming up the pike. As blue was the predominant color, the first impression was that the men in gray were prisoners. But soon Dick Moran, who was riding in front, solved all doubts and fears as, with a voice louder than a Triton's shell, he proclaimed, "All right."
Headquarters, Camp Fred's, April 4, 1863.Mr. President:—Maj. John S. Mosby reports that he was attacked early on the morning of the 2d [1st] instant, near Dranesville, by about 200 Vermont cavalry. He promptly repulsed them, leaving on the field 25 killed and wounded, including 3 officers, and brought off 82 prisoners, with their horses, arms, and equipments. His force consisted of 65 men, and his loss was 4 wounded.The enemy has evacuated Dranesville.I had the pleasure to send by return courier to Major Mosby his commission of major of Partisan Rangers, for which I am obliged to your Excellency.I am, with great respect, your obedient servant,R. E. LEE,General.His Excellency Jefferson Davis,President Confederate States of America, Richmond, Va.Headquarters, Stahel's Cavalry Division,Fairfax Court House, Va.,April 2, 1863.General:—I have the honor to submit the following report, which is, however, made up from verbal information received from Col. Price, Lieutenant-Colonel Johnstone, and Major Taggart. I will forward the written report as soon as it is received, and shall take all possible means to ascertain the true state of the case. It appears that on the evening of the 31st ultimo, Major Taggart, at Union Church, 2 miles above Peach Grove, received information that Mosby, with about 65 men, was near Dranesville. He immediately despatched Captain Flint, with 150 men of the First Vermont, to rout or capture Mosby and his force. Captain Flint followed the Leesburg and Alexandria road to the road which branches off to the right, just this side of Broad Run. Turning to the right, they followed up the Broad Run toward the Potomac, to a place marked "J. Mesed" [Miskel]. Here, at a house, they came on to Mosby, who was completely surprised and wholly unprepared for an attack from our forces. Had a proper disposition been made of our troops, Mosby could not, by any possible means, have escaped. It seems that around this house was a high board fence and a stone wall, between which and the road was also another fence and ordinary farm gate. Captain Flint took his men through the gate, and, at a distance from the house, fired a volley at Mosby and his men, who were assembled about the house, doing but slight damage to them. He then ordered a sabre charge, which was also ineffectual, on account of the fence which intervened. Mosby waited until the men were checked by the fence, and then opened his fire upon them, killing and wounding several. The men here became panic-stricken, and fled precipitately toward this gate, through which to make their escape. The opening was small, and they got wedged together, and a fearful state of confusion followed; while Mosby's men followed them up, and poured into the crowd a severe fire. Here, while endeavoring to rally his men, Captain Flint was killed, and Lieutenant Grout, of the same company, mortally wounded (will probably die to-day). Mosby's men followed in pursuit, and sabred several of our men on the road. Mosby, during his pursuit, is supposed to have received a sabre wound across the face which unhorsed him. The rebels took some prisoners, and a number of horses, and fell back in great haste. In comparison to the number engaged, our loss was very heavy. As soon as Major Taggart received the report, he sent Major Hall in pursuit of Mosby, and to bring in our killed and wounded. Upon receiving the first intelligence, I immediately sent out Colonel Price with a detachment of the Sixth and Seventh Michigan and First Virginia [Union] Cavalry, who searched in every direction; but no trace could be found of Mosby or his men, as information reached me too late.I regret to be obliged to inform the commanding general that the forces sent out by Major Taggart missed so good an opportunity of capturing this rebel guerilla. It is only to be ascribed to the bad management on the part of the officers and the cowardice of the men. I have ordered Colonel Price to make a thorough investigation of this matter, and shall recommend those officers who are guilty to be stricken from the rolls.The list of killed and wounded will be forwarded as soon as received.I have the honor to remain, your obedient servant,JUL. STAHEL,Major-General.Maj. Gen. S. P. Heintzelman,Commanding, &c.
Headquarters, Camp Fred's, April 4, 1863.
Mr. President:—Maj. John S. Mosby reports that he was attacked early on the morning of the 2d [1st] instant, near Dranesville, by about 200 Vermont cavalry. He promptly repulsed them, leaving on the field 25 killed and wounded, including 3 officers, and brought off 82 prisoners, with their horses, arms, and equipments. His force consisted of 65 men, and his loss was 4 wounded.
The enemy has evacuated Dranesville.
I had the pleasure to send by return courier to Major Mosby his commission of major of Partisan Rangers, for which I am obliged to your Excellency.
I am, with great respect, your obedient servant,
R. E. LEE,General.
His Excellency Jefferson Davis,President Confederate States of America, Richmond, Va.
Headquarters, Stahel's Cavalry Division,Fairfax Court House, Va.,April 2, 1863.
General:—I have the honor to submit the following report, which is, however, made up from verbal information received from Col. Price, Lieutenant-Colonel Johnstone, and Major Taggart. I will forward the written report as soon as it is received, and shall take all possible means to ascertain the true state of the case. It appears that on the evening of the 31st ultimo, Major Taggart, at Union Church, 2 miles above Peach Grove, received information that Mosby, with about 65 men, was near Dranesville. He immediately despatched Captain Flint, with 150 men of the First Vermont, to rout or capture Mosby and his force. Captain Flint followed the Leesburg and Alexandria road to the road which branches off to the right, just this side of Broad Run. Turning to the right, they followed up the Broad Run toward the Potomac, to a place marked "J. Mesed" [Miskel]. Here, at a house, they came on to Mosby, who was completely surprised and wholly unprepared for an attack from our forces. Had a proper disposition been made of our troops, Mosby could not, by any possible means, have escaped. It seems that around this house was a high board fence and a stone wall, between which and the road was also another fence and ordinary farm gate. Captain Flint took his men through the gate, and, at a distance from the house, fired a volley at Mosby and his men, who were assembled about the house, doing but slight damage to them. He then ordered a sabre charge, which was also ineffectual, on account of the fence which intervened. Mosby waited until the men were checked by the fence, and then opened his fire upon them, killing and wounding several. The men here became panic-stricken, and fled precipitately toward this gate, through which to make their escape. The opening was small, and they got wedged together, and a fearful state of confusion followed; while Mosby's men followed them up, and poured into the crowd a severe fire. Here, while endeavoring to rally his men, Captain Flint was killed, and Lieutenant Grout, of the same company, mortally wounded (will probably die to-day). Mosby's men followed in pursuit, and sabred several of our men on the road. Mosby, during his pursuit, is supposed to have received a sabre wound across the face which unhorsed him. The rebels took some prisoners, and a number of horses, and fell back in great haste. In comparison to the number engaged, our loss was very heavy. As soon as Major Taggart received the report, he sent Major Hall in pursuit of Mosby, and to bring in our killed and wounded. Upon receiving the first intelligence, I immediately sent out Colonel Price with a detachment of the Sixth and Seventh Michigan and First Virginia [Union] Cavalry, who searched in every direction; but no trace could be found of Mosby or his men, as information reached me too late.
I regret to be obliged to inform the commanding general that the forces sent out by Major Taggart missed so good an opportunity of capturing this rebel guerilla. It is only to be ascribed to the bad management on the part of the officers and the cowardice of the men. I have ordered Colonel Price to make a thorough investigation of this matter, and shall recommend those officers who are guilty to be stricken from the rolls.
The list of killed and wounded will be forwarded as soon as received.
I have the honor to remain, your obedient servant,
JUL. STAHEL,Major-General.
Maj. Gen. S. P. Heintzelman,Commanding, &c.
"And thou, Dalhousie, thou great god of war,Lieutenant-Colonel to the Earl of Mar."—Waller.
"And thou, Dalhousie, thou great god of war,Lieutenant-Colonel to the Earl of Mar."—Waller.
"And thou, Dalhousie, thou great god of war,Lieutenant-Colonel to the Earl of Mar."—Waller.
"And thou, Dalhousie, thou great god of war,
Lieutenant-Colonel to the Earl of Mar."—Waller.
Whatin the newspaper slang of the day were termed "the depredations of guerillas," in the vicinity of Washington, induced the authorities there to make a change in outpost commanders. Wyndham, having played an unsuccessful game for over two months, during which time his headquarters had been raided, and his coat and hat carried off by us in his absence, had given it up in despair, and been sent to join his regiment at the front. The new person selected for the position was a major-general in the army, and a whiskered pandour, whose experience in foreign wars, it was hoped, would devise a remedy to suppress these annoyances. As soon as he took command, the cavalry camps in Fairfax resounded with the busy notes of preparation for a grand expedition, which he had resolved to undertake against us. It could no longer be endured that the war should be waged in full view of the dome of the Capitol, and the outposts could not stand the wear and tear of a perpetual skirmish, and the worry of lying awake all night waiting for an invisible foe to come and kill or capture them.
The spring campaign was about to open, and if the hostile band that created this trouble could be exterminated, the cavalry division, then doing duty in Fairfax, might be thrown forward to the Rappahannock to aid Hooker's operations. The Major-General was firmly persuaded, as no one had ever seen our camp, that the so-called guerillas were nobody but the country farmers, who collected together at night to make their incursions, and dispersed by day to take care of their fields and flocks. The fights at Chantilly and Dranesville ought to have convinced him that the men who had routed his best regiments had some training in war, and were no such irregular band as he imagined. It is true that, after I began operations in that region, many took up arms and joined me, who up to that time had followed peaceful pursuits. But whenever a citizen joined me and became a soldier, he discarded the habiliments of peace, put on his arms and uniform, and laid aside every other occupation.
When the struggle was over, they relapsed into the habits of their former life, and like the Puritan soldiers of Cromwell, became as marked for devotion to their civil duties as they had ever been in war. As for myself, it was for a long time maintained that I was a pure myth, and my personal identity was as stoutly denied as that of Homer or the Devil. All historic doubts about my own existence have, I believe, been settled; but the fables published by the Bohemians who followed the army made an impression that still lives in popular recollection.
There is a lingering belief that my command was not a part of the regularly organized military force of the Southern Confederacy. The theory of the Major-General, though contradicted by facts staring him in the face every day, got a lodgement in the minds of some people which has never been effaced. It was to confirm it that he now undertook to make a reconnoissance through the region infested by us. It happened that just at that time Hooker was preparing once more to cross the Rappahannock, and as a preliminary movement had sent Stoneman with the cavalry corps up the river to seize the Orange and Alexandria railroad and hold it as the line of communication with Washington. The line that connects an army with its base of supplies is the heel of Achilles—its most vital and vulnerable point. It is a great achievement in war to compel an enemy to make heavy detachments to guard it; it is equally as great a one to destroy the force that threatens it. It was to effect this latter object that in April, 1863, the Major-General set out on his expedition against me with two brigades of cavalry and a battery of artillery, which was to be the prelude of the opening of the campaign on the Rappahannock. Now it so happened that just about that time I received a letter from Stuart suggesting the capture of a train on the railroad. The effect of such a stroke of course would be to create uneasiness and alarm about the safety of Hooker's supplies.
The following is an extract from Stuart's letter: "There is now a splendid opportunity to strike the enemy in the rear of Warrenton Junction; the trains are running regularly to that point. Capture a train and interrupt the operation of the railroad, though it may be, by the time you get this, the opportunity may be gone. Stoneman's main body of cavalry is located near Warrenton Junction, Bealeton and Warrenton Springs. Keep far enough away from a brigade camp to give you time to get off your plunder and prisoners. Information of the movements of large bodies is of the greatest importance to us just now. The marching or transportation of divisions will often indicate the plan of a campaign. Be sure to give dates and numbers and names, as far as possible."
I could offer no better proof than this letter of the useful services that may be rendered by an active partisan corps in co-operation with the movements of an army. It not only cripples an adversary, but communicates intelligence of his movements. Accordingly I gave notice for a meeting at Upperville to undertake an enterprise against the railroad. I was willing to let the Union troops down in Fairfax rest while I turned my attention to Joe Hooker. On the evening of the day before the meeting I had been with Beattie up to the mountain to get a fresh horse to ride on the raid, and we returned about dark. I met a citizen, who informed me that a large Federal force was camped at Middleburg, and that there had been artillery firing there during the afternoon. I thought it was merely a false report that had gotten up a stampede, for I had not heard the firing, and I could not conceive what they could have been firing at, as we had no troops about there. I supposed that if they had come after me they would have tried to keep it a secret and make as little noise as possible.
About nine o'clock that night Beattie and I rode down in the direction of Middleburg to find out if there was any truth in the rumor. When we got on a high hill, about a mile off, that overlooks the town, we stopped to reconnoitre. The night was very cold, with a drizzling rain. Not a single camp-fire could be seen anywhere; and there was nothing to indicate the bivouacs of a military force. I said to Beattie: "This is just as I said—nothing but a stampede about nothing. If there were any troops about there, they would have camp-fires on such a cold night as this." We then rode forward, but had only gone a few hundred yards farther when we were halted and fired on by a picket. This, of course, proved that the rumor was true.
We fell back. But it was a mystery I could not solve, why there should be an encampment of troops in such weather without fires. Then, too, there had been artillery firing; what could possibly have been the reason for that? The next morning I went, according to appointment, to meet my men at Upperville, having sent out some scouts toward Middleburg, which is eight miles distant. My desire was to let the Union cavalry alone at Middleburg and strike the meditated blow at Hooker, on the railroad. The force that had come up from Fairfax after me had now been practically eliminated from the campaign. I wanted, therefore, if possible, to slip away from them undiscovered. Early that morning the Major-General put his column in motion on the pike for Upperville; but he had only gone a couple of miles before his advance-guard was driven in by Tom Richards and a few men. This caused him to halt and get ready for action. On the day before, on his march up the turnpike, he had seen horsemen on the hills watching him, who, like the Arab when he folds his tent, had silently stolen away.
On reaching Middleburg, the clouds seemed to thicken around him; for he had seen at least a dozen perched on the heights at different places gazing at him. They were evidently ready to light down on any stragglers, and bear them off in their talons. The Major-General unlimbered his guns, and opened fire on every moving object in his sight. He did no damage to anybody; but his firing gave notice for miles around to people to get out of his way. There was a large grove near Middleburg, in which he proposed to bivouac that night. But before entering it, he shelled it so effectively as not only to expel any guerillas that might be lurking there, but all animated nature. He carried along a newspaper correspondent to chronicle his exploits. His letter, published in the New YorkTribuneshortly after that, made clear a number of things which I had not been able to understand before reading it. It praised his consummate skill and prudence in allowing no camp-fires during the night, as they would have lighted the way for the guerillas to attack him; while the destructive artillery fire with which he had raked the forest showed that he possessed the foresight of a great general. It was also stated that he would only permit one half of his command to sleep at a time or unbridle and unsaddle their horses. With unconscious irony the letter concluded by stating that the result of the expedition had demonstrated that Mosby hadn't over twenty-five men, who had been totally exterminated. After remaining in line of battle for some time, waiting for me to attack him, the Major-General determined not to advance any farther toward Upperville, which lies just at the base of the Blue Ridge.
It was surmised that the guerillas, like the Cyclops, had taken refuge in caves on the mountainside, and there might be danger in approaching too closely, so he turned squarely off to his left. On his line of march he had swept the country of all the old men he could find, for he was firmly persuaded that in doing so he was breaking up my band. No plea in defence would be heard. A man named Hutchison, who was 70 years old, and had always used crutches, was among the prisoners. In vain he pleaded his age and infirmities as proof of the impossibility of his being a guerilla. A Vermont soldier stepped forward, and swore that he saw him leading the charge in the fight at Miskel's farm. He was sent to Washington as a trophy. The captives under guard marched in the rear of the column.
About eighty men had met me at Upperville. In order to elude the Major-General, and execute my plan of capturing a train on the railroad, I made a detour by Salem, going on toward Thoroughfare Gap in the Bull Run Mountains. The Major-General and myself, being ignorant of each other's plans, had also gone the same way, in order to avoid meeting the force that had driven in his advance from Upperville. Somehow he had got the idea in his head that a large body of Stuart's cavalry was in the neighborhood, and he was not looking for them. An hour or so after I had passed through Salem, the Major-General arrived there. He had started to return to Fairfax by making a circuit around through Thoroughfare Gap. Without any design on his part, he had struck right on my track. As I was marching very leisurely,—for I did not want to get to the railroad until about dark,—he might easily have overtaken me; but he did not seem to have the least desire to do so. He followed me at the rate of half a mile an hour. Having got all the old farmers prisoners, the measure of his ambition was full. He had at last destroyed the nest of vipers. He did not believe the body of cavalry that had gone on ahead were the very men he pretended to be looking for.
Just as I reached Thoroughfare Gap, two of my men—Alfred Glasscock and Norman Smith—came galloping up, and said that the enemy was pursuing me. They had, for some reason, remained behind at Salem, and saw the Major-General's command march through along the same road I was on. As he was only one hour behind me there, I felt certain that he was almost upon me. Some four miles back of where I was, the roads forked at a village called the Plains, one leading to Thoroughfare, and the other to Hopewell Gap in the Bull Run Mountains. I immediately wheeled around, and crossed over on the Hopewell road and started back toward the Plains. I supposed the Major-General was in pursuit of me, and as I could not undertake with less than 100 men to attack in front 4000 cavalry and a battery of artillery, my intention was to try to cut off his rear-guard before it passed the forks or the gap. But when I got on a high hill overlooking the Plains, instead of meeting his rear-guard, when I rode forward to reconnoitre, I saw his advance, that had just got to the forks. I halted, so did they, while their whole column rapidly deployed in line of battle, and the guns were placed in battery, ready for the expected onset.
Every disposition was made by him to receive an attack. We stayed there facing each other over one hour, until it grew dark, when I disbanded my men. I had abandoned my enterprise against the railroad because I supposed that it had been discovered where I was going, and that if I went on, with the Major-General behind me and Stoneman's cavalry in front, we would all be captured. He had learned at Salem that a body of cavalry had passed through just ahead of him, and at the Plains he saw that they had gone on the Thoroughfare road.
After giving us, as he supposed, ample time to get away, he started on the same route, when, with surprise, he saw a body of cavalry threatening him on the Hopewell road. He had no idea they were the same cavalry whose track he was on. If he continued his line of march he must go through one of the mountain passes, and remembering the fate of the Persians at Thermopylæ, he determined now to halt. I took it for granted that he had stopped to go into camp at the Plains. But he, not knowing that I had disbanded my command and fearing a night attack, as soon as it became dark began a retreat back toward Middleburg. Being a cautious general, he did not go along the main public road, but cut across fields and took private ways. The bridges across every stream he crossed were broken down after he passed, although some were so narrow that a man could jump over them, and trees were felled across the road to prevent us from charging his rear. After marching all night he reached the vicinity of Middleburg about daybreak and went into camp. He had no idea that I had disbanded my men and gone off, but thought he had eluded us. Now, it had never entered my head that he was going to run away from me. Beattie and I had ridden on the same night over near Middleburg, and I stopped at the house of George McArty. About daybreak he came running to where we were sleeping and called out to us: "Boys! get up quick—the Yankees are all around you." We jumped up, and two or three hundred yards away we could see the field was blue with the Major-General's command. We bridled and saddled our horses quickly and rode off unmolested in full view of them. The Major-General and I had been running away from each other a whole day and night, and then came very near sleeping together. After taking a short rest from the fatigue of his night march, he started back to Fairfax with the battalion of graybeards he had taken prisoners, riding bareback with blind bridles on broken-down plow-horses. They were marched down to Washington and paraded through the streets to gratify the curiosity of the people. They created a greater sensation than a circus. Such was the grand anti-climax to the Major-General's Anabasis. It is so unique and complete in itself that I will not mar its epic unity by adding anything more to the narrative.