Provost-Marshal's Office, Fairfax Court House, Va.,March 9, 1863, 3.30A.M.Capt. Mosby, with his command, entered this town this morning at 2A.M.They captured my patrols, horses, &c. They took Brigadier-General Stoughton and horses, and all his men detached from his brigade. They took every horse that could be found, public and private; and the commanding officer of the post, Colonel Johnstone, of the Fifth New York Cavalry, made his escape from them in a nude state by accident. They searched for me in every direction, but being on the Vienna road visiting outposts, I made my escape.L. L. CONNOR,Provost-Marshal.P.S. All our available cavalry forces are in pursuit of them.MAJ. HUNT,Asst. Adjt. Gen.General Heintzelman's Headquarters.
Provost-Marshal's Office, Fairfax Court House, Va.,March 9, 1863, 3.30A.M.
Capt. Mosby, with his command, entered this town this morning at 2A.M.They captured my patrols, horses, &c. They took Brigadier-General Stoughton and horses, and all his men detached from his brigade. They took every horse that could be found, public and private; and the commanding officer of the post, Colonel Johnstone, of the Fifth New York Cavalry, made his escape from them in a nude state by accident. They searched for me in every direction, but being on the Vienna road visiting outposts, I made my escape.
L. L. CONNOR,Provost-Marshal.
P.S. All our available cavalry forces are in pursuit of them.
MAJ. HUNT,Asst. Adjt. Gen.
General Heintzelman's Headquarters.
Genl. Stahel's report to War Dept. says: "On the 13th day of March, 1863, the day after General Stoughton was captured at Fairfax C.H., I was on my way from Stafford Court House to New York, on eight days' leave of absence. Upon my arrival in Washington, I was summoned to report at once to President Lincoln. He told me of the capture of Genl. Stoughton and the insecure condition of our lines in front of Washington. The President also said that he desired to have me in command in front of Washington to put a stop to these raids. He wrote a letter to Gen. Heintzelman, comdg. the Dept. of Washington, and directed me to go and see him…. On the same day, the 17th of March, I was appointed Major-General of Volunteers, to take date from the 14th of March, 1863."
Gen. Stahel was relieved of his cavalry command on June 28th, 1863.
Heqrs. Stahel's Cav. Div., Dept. of Washington,Fairfax Court House, April 11, 1863.General:—I have the honor to report with regard to the reconnoissance under command of Brig.-Gen. J. F. Copeland, which left this place on the 3d day of April, and returned here early on the morning of the 6th instant, that it proceeded as far as Middleburg, and searched diligently through that whole section of country without meeting any enemy in force or ascertaining definitely the whereabouts of Mosby. Small detachments of rebels, however, were occasionally seen, but scattered on the approach of our troops.On the 4th instant, early in the morning, in front of Middleburg, a collision occurred between one of his pickets and some of the enemy's, resulting in the death of one and the wounding of another on each side. During the expedition there were captured and arrested sixty-one prisoners, citizens and soldiers, fifty-three horses, two mules, a quantity of wheat, three wagons, saddles, bridles, guns, sabres, &c., all of which were turned over to the provost-marshal of this place, and by him to Colonel Baker Washington, a copy of whose receipt is inclosed within … &c.JUL. STAHEL,Major-General.Maj.-Gen. S. P. Heintzelman,Commanding, &c.
Heqrs. Stahel's Cav. Div., Dept. of Washington,Fairfax Court House, April 11, 1863.
General:—I have the honor to report with regard to the reconnoissance under command of Brig.-Gen. J. F. Copeland, which left this place on the 3d day of April, and returned here early on the morning of the 6th instant, that it proceeded as far as Middleburg, and searched diligently through that whole section of country without meeting any enemy in force or ascertaining definitely the whereabouts of Mosby. Small detachments of rebels, however, were occasionally seen, but scattered on the approach of our troops.
On the 4th instant, early in the morning, in front of Middleburg, a collision occurred between one of his pickets and some of the enemy's, resulting in the death of one and the wounding of another on each side. During the expedition there were captured and arrested sixty-one prisoners, citizens and soldiers, fifty-three horses, two mules, a quantity of wheat, three wagons, saddles, bridles, guns, sabres, &c., all of which were turned over to the provost-marshal of this place, and by him to Colonel Baker Washington, a copy of whose receipt is inclosed within … &c.
JUL. STAHEL,Major-General.
Maj.-Gen. S. P. Heintzelman,Commanding, &c.
There is no report on file of Major-General Stahel's expedition about two weeks after this in search of Mosby.
"Our acts our angels are—or good or ill,Our fatal shadows that walk by us still."
"Our acts our angels are—or good or ill,Our fatal shadows that walk by us still."
"Our acts our angels are—or good or ill,Our fatal shadows that walk by us still."
"Our acts our angels are—or good or ill,
Our fatal shadows that walk by us still."
IfI had known at the time of the major-general's expedition to Fauquier all that I know now, I would not, of course, have abandoned the enterprise against the railroad. I had thought that after he struck my track at Salem, he was really in pursuit of me, although he only followed at a terrapin's pace. I could not have anticipated that a major-general, starting out to win his spurs, would retreat as soon as he got in sight of the object he was in search of. I had disbanded my men, with instructions to meet me again in a few days at a certain place. I wanted to give the major-general time to get home, while I could recruit my forces, pick my flint, and try again. As the troops that belonged to the defences of Washington were now on the defensive, it was my policy to let them alone, and turn my attention to Hooker's army, which was then preparing to cross the Rappahannock. I could most efficiently aid Gen. Lee by assailing Hooker in the rear. A partisan commander who acts in co-operation with an army should always, if possible, operate against troops engaged in offensive movements. The Major-General was now resting on his laurels. For two months preceding his raid into Fauquier, there had been incessant attacks on the outposts, and daily alarm through the camps. All this had now suddenly ceased, and the quiet that reigned was supposed to confirm the truth of the report of the annihilation of my band.
On May 2, 70 or 80 men assembled at my call. I had information that Stoneman's cavalry had left Warrenton and gone south, which indicated that the campaign had opened. My plan now was to strike Hooker. The moral effect of a blow from behind might have an important influence on the result. I started for Warrenton, and reached there about dusk, and learned that Stoneman was over the river. It was not known whether or not the Orange & Alexandria railroad was still held by the Union troops. I went into camp near the town that night, and started by daylight the next morning on the road leading to Fredericksburg, which crosses the railroad. I was sure that Hooker would not repeat the blunder of Burnside, but would cross at some of the upper fords of the Rappahannock. It was toward one of these that my course was directed. The roar of the guns at Chancellorsville could be distinctly heard, and we knew that the two armies were once more in the deadly embrace of battle.
It was not more than fifteen or twenty miles off; and we could easily reach there early in the day. I wanted to contribute my mite of support to the Southern cause. When we were within a couple of miles of the railroad a bugle was heard; and I turned aside and marched to the sound. I thought it must come from a cavalry camp, which we might sweep through as we went along. Before we had gone very far, an infantry soldier was caught, who informed me that I was marching right into the camp of an infantry brigade. I found out that there was some cavalry on the railroad at another point, and so I made for that. These troops had just been sent up to replace Stoneman's. I committed a great error in allowing myself to be diverted by their presence from the purpose of my expedition. They were perfectly harmless where they were, and could not help Hooker in the great battle then raging. I should, at least, have endeavored to avoid a fight by marching around them. If I had succeeded in destroying them all, it would hardly have been the equivalent of the damage I might have done to Hooker by appearing at United States ford during the agony of the fight. There all of his wagons were packed. It would be difficult to calculate the demoralizing effect of the news on his army that the enemy was in their rear, and their trains and rations were burning up.
Just as we debouched from the woods in sight of Warrenton Junction, I saw, about 300 yards in front of us, a body of cavalry in the open field. It was a bright, warm morning; and the men were lounging on the grass, while their horses, with nothing but their halters on, had been turned loose to graze on the young clover. They were enjoying the music of the great battle, and had no dream that danger was near. Not a single patrol or picket had been put out. At first they mistook us for their own men, and had no suspicion as to who we were until I ordered a charge and the men raised a yell. The shouting and firing stampeded the horses, and they scattered over a field of several hundred acres, while their riders took shelter in some houses near by. We very soon got all out of two houses; but the main body took refuge in a large frame building just by the railroad. I did not take time to dismount my men, but ordered a charge on the house; I did not want to give them time to recover from their panic. I came up just in front of two windows by the chimney, from which a hot fire was poured that brought down several men by my side. But I paid them back with interest when I got to the window, into which I emptied two Colt's revolvers. The house was as densely packed as a sardine box; and it was almost impossible to fire into it without hitting somebody. The doors had been shut from the inside; but the Rev. Sam Chapman dismounted, and burst through, followed by John Debutts, Mountjoy, and Harry Sweeting. The soldiers in the lower rooms immediately surrendered; but those above held out. There was a haystack near by; and I ordered some of the hay to be brought into the house and fire to be set to it. Not being willing to be burned alive as martyrs to the Union, the men above now held out a white flag from a window. The house was densely filled with smoke and the floor covered with the blood of the wounded. The commanding officer, Maj. Steel, had received a mortal wound; and there were many others in the same condition. All who were able now came out of the house.
After a severe fight, I had taken three times my own number prisoners, together with all their horses, arms and equipments. Most of my men then dispersed over the field in pursuit of the frightened horses which had run away. I was sitting on my horse near the house, giving directions for getting ready to leave with the prisoners and spoil, when one of my men, named Wild, who had chased a horse some distance down the railroad, came at full speed, and reported a heavy column of cavalry coming up. I turned to one of my men, Alfred Glasscock, and said to him, "Now we will whip them." I had hardly spoken the words when I saw a large body of Union cavalry, not over 200 or 300 yards off, rapidly advancing.
As I have stated, most of my command had scattered over the field, and the enemy was so close there was no time to rally and re-form before they got upon us. In attempting to do so, I remained on the ground until they were within 50 yards of me, and was nearly captured. So there was nothing to do but for every man to take care of himself. I have already described the kind of command I had at this time. They were a mere aggregation of men casually gathered, belonging to many different regiments, who happened to be in the country.2Of course, such a body has none of the cohesion and discipline that springs from organization, no matter how brave the men may be individually. Men never fought better than they did at the house, while the defenders were inspired to greater resistance, knowing that relief was near. We had defeated and captured three times our own number, and now had to give up the fruits of victory, and in turn to fly to prevent capture. My men fled in every direction, taking off about 50 horses and a number of prisoners. Only one of my men—Templeman—was killed, but I lost about 20 captured, nearly all of whom were wounded. Dick Moran was among them. I never made a better fight than this, although finally compelled to retreat before 10 times my own number.
As to its ulterior effects, it was about the same, as I shall hereafter show, as if I had not lost what I had won. The cavalry I had met was Deforest's brigade, that had come up the night before. As I have said, it was a mistake my making this fight, even if I had been completely successful. In all probability, it saved Hooker's transportation, just as the fight of the Prussians at the bridge of the Dyle saved Wellington, although they were beaten. It detained Grouchy long enough to keep him from Waterloo. I learned wisdom from experience, and after that always looked before I took a leap.
When I ordered the charge at Warrenton Junction, I had no idea whether I was attacking a hundred or a thousand men.
Just one year after that, I started with the purpose of attacking the rear of the army of the Potomac, at the same place where I had intended to strike Hooker. I found the railroad guarded, but I crossed it unnoticed in the dark, and went on. Lee and Grant had met in the Wilderness. Grant had all of his transportation south of the river, with cavalry pickets at the United States ford. There was no chance to get at it. Hooker had left his on the north bank where I was. I got one of Grant's trains near Aquia Creek, on the Lower Potomac; but when I returned, a few days after that, to get another, found that he had detached a cavalry force to protect that route. This was what I wanted to make him do. It was that number of men subtracted from his strength. After striking one blow at the line of supply of an army, a demonstration will generally answer all the purposes of an attack. Hooker did not stay in the Wilderness long enough for me to renew my attempt to get at his trains. When, after my rout, I appeared at Warrenton, attended by a single companion, where I had passed the night before with my command, I was apparently as forlorn as Charles,
After dread Pultowa's day,When fortune left the royal Swede.
After dread Pultowa's day,When fortune left the royal Swede.
After dread Pultowa's day,When fortune left the royal Swede.
After dread Pultowa's day,
When fortune left the royal Swede.
But I felt no discouragement. My faith in my ability to create a command and continue my warfare on the border was still as unwavering as Francis Xavier's when he left the Tagus, to plant the cross on the shores of Coromandel.
The enemy held the railroads as far south as the Rappahannock, and in a few days I got together 30 or 40 men, and started down again to strike them somewhere. I found the bridges over Broad Run and Kettle Run unguarded; we set fire to them and left them in a blaze. It had not been expected that we would come back so soon, hence their want of precaution to provide for their safety. While the bridges were burning, the soldiers who had been put there to protect them were dozing in their tents not a mile off. In a few days I again went as far as Dumfries, but could find no assailable point. The trains all carried strong infantry guards, in addition to those stationed along the railroad. I started back without having effected anything, and stopped at the house of a man named Lynn, to rest and feed our horses. As we were far inside the enemy's lines, there was some risk in this; but we were tired and hungry. Our horses had been unbitted, and were eating their corn, and I was lying on the grass asleep, when I was aroused by the cry that the enemy was coming. We barely had time to bridle up and mount before they were upon us. They came full speed on our trail, and were strung out for a long distance on the road. This was my opportunity. A lieutenant was gallantly leading them. I saved myself this time by the same counter-stroke that a few weeks before had rescued me from the brink of ruin in the fight at Miskel's farm. We did not wait for the danger, but went to meet it. There was a gate across the road, between us and the enemy, which I ordered to be opened. We dashed through, and in the moment of collision the lieutenant fell, severely wounded. Several others in the front met the same fate; they had drawn sabres, that hurt nobody, and we used pistols. Their companions halted, hesitated, and were overpowered before support could come up. Some turned and fled, and in doing so communicated their panic to those in their rear. They fled pell-mell back toward their camp, leaving their dead and wounded on the field and a number of prisoners and horses in our hands. I then had, in turn, to get away quickly. I knew they would soon return with reinforcements; they did come, but we were gone.
In returning, we crossed the railroad within a mile of Manassas, and in full view of the troops there, but were not molested. I found out from this raid the difficulty of making any impression with my small command on the force guarding the road. I could keep them on the watch, and in a state of anxiety and alarm; but, while this might satisfy Stuart and Gen. Lee, the men on whom I had to depend to do the work would not be content with such results. In order to retain them, it was necessary for me to stimulate their enthusiasm with something more tangible. War to them was not an abstraction; it meant prisoners, arms, horses and sutler's stores; remote consequences were not much considered. So I sent Beattie with a letter to explain the situation to Stuart, in which I said: "If you will let me have a mountain howitzer, I think I could use it with great effect, especially on the railroad trains. I have several experienced artillerists with me. The effect of such annoyance is to force the enemy to make heavy details to guard their communications. I have not attacked any of their railroad trains, because I have no ammunition for my carbines, and they are pretty strongly guarded with infantry." In this letter I suggested the theory on which my warfare was conducted. It would not only draw troops from the front, but prevent those doing duty on the railroad and around Washington from being sent to Hooker to make up his losses in the Wilderness. These operations were erratic simply in not being in accordance with the fixed rules taught by the academies; but in all that I did there was a unity of purpose, and a plan which my commanding general understood and approved. The Confederate drill sergeants could see no use in what they could not comprehend.
In reference to the fight at Warrenton Junction, Gen. Abercrombie reports:
"Between the hours of 9 and 10A.M., on the morning of the 3d ult., an outpost of the 1st Va. [Union] Cavalry at Warrenton Junction, about 100 men, under Lieut.-Col. Krepp's command, were surprised and attacked by Maj. Mosby, with his force of about 125 [75] men. The men of the 1st Va. were scattered about the station, their horses unsaddled, in order to be groomed and fed. Mosby's force came in upon them from the direction of Warrenton, which place they left at daylight. Their front rank was dressed in the uniform of the United States [we were all dressed in gray. J.S.M.], and they were supposed to be a force of Union cavalry until within a short distance, when they charged, and surrounded the house in and about which the 1st Va. lay. After a short fight, in which several of the rebels were killed and wounded, the men of the 1st Va. for the most part surrendered, and about 40 were being taken towards Warrenton by their captors, when a detachment of 70 men of the 5th N.Y. Cavalry, which was camped near by, under command of Maj. Hammond, came up, charged upon the rebels, and a running fight ensued, which was continued for five miles, in the course of which all the prisoners taken by Mosby were recaptured, with the exception of two."
Major-General Stahel reports:
"Our men being surprised and completely surrounded, rallied in a house close at hand, and where a sharp fight ensued. Our men defended themselves as long as their ammunition lasted, notwithstanding the Rebels built a large fire about the house, of hay and straw and brushwood; the flames reached the house, and their ammunition being entirely expended, they were obliged to surrender." Maj. Steele, of the 1st. Va., was mortally wounded in the house.
Quis jam fluctus, quae regio in terris non nostri plena laboris.—Æneid.
Quis jam fluctus, quae regio in terris non nostri plena laboris.—Æneid.
Quis jam fluctus, quae regio in terris non nostri plena laboris.—Æneid.
Quis jam fluctus, quae regio in terris non nostri plena laboris.
—Æneid.
Atthis time Gen. Lee was making the preliminary movement of the Gettysburg campaign up the left bank of the Rappahannock, while Hooker moved on a parallel line on the other. Pleasanton's cavalry corps was massed on the river, near Rappahannock station, about fifty miles from Washington, which was now covered by Hooker's army. In compliance with my request, Stuart sent me a small mountain howitzer by Beattie. A brigade of cavalry and one of infantry were lying between Manassas and Catlett's station; and here was the only possible chance of reaching the railroad without being discovered. On May 29, 1863, I set out with about forty men, and my little gun, to strike it somewhere between these points. I had no caisson; but carried fifteen rounds of ammunition in the limber-chest. The enterprise on which I was going, when judged by the common standards of prudence, appeared not only hazardous but foolhardy. The camps of the enemy were distributed along the road at intervals of one or two miles, with patrols continually passing. Every train had on board a strong infantry guard. If I should succeed in penetrating their lines and making a capture, it could not be done without alarming the camps, which would make my retreat difficult, if not impossible. But I thought the end justified the risk. An attack, even by my small band, at such a critical time, might create an important diversion in favor of Gen. Lee. If this could be done, then the loss of the gun, and even of my whole command, would be as dust in the balance against the advantage of it.
We bivouacked that night in the pines near Catlett's, and were awakened in the morning by the reveille in the Union camps, which were a mile or so distant on either side of us. There was a narrow pathway through the pines, along which we marched until within a hundred yards of the railroad. The telegraph wire was cut, and a rail sufficiently removed to allow a train to run off the track. The howitzer was in charge of the Rev. Sam Chapman, who had been so conspicuous in the fight at Miskel's; it was now made ready for action. All of us were under cover, with one man near the road to give notice of an approaching train. We had not waited long before he gave the signal. I rode forward, and saw it puffing along. Chapman rammed down a charge in his gun; and all awaited the event with breathless interest. I was in fear every moment of a patrol coming on the road who might give the alarm and stop the train. Fortunately, none came. The engineer, not suspecting danger, was driving at full speed, when suddenly the locomotive glided from the track. The infantry guard fired a volley, which did no injury to us except killing a horse. In an instant, a shell from Chapman's gun went crashing through the cars. They all jumped off and took to their heels through the pines. In the stampede, they did not take time to count our number. If they had stood their ground, they could have easily driven us away. Another shell was sent through the boiler of the engine. The infernal noise of the escaping steam increased the panic among the fugitives. There were several bales of hay on the train that were set on fire. The whole was soon in flames. One car was loaded with sutlers' goods, which the men did not permit to be entirely consumed by the fire. There was also a number of fresh shad; and each man secured one of these. The blockade of the Potomac had for a long time deprived us of that luxury. The United States mail bags were tied to the carriage of the howitzer; and we started to retrace our steps.
I have been criticised a good deal at the North for capturing trains on railroads used for military purposes. To justify myself, it is not necessary for me to use thetu quoqueargument, and retort that my adversaries did the same whenever they could; for the plain reason that I was simply exercising a belligerent right. There was nobody but soldiers on this train; but, if there had been women and children, too, it would have been all the same to me. Those who travel on a road running through a military district must accept the risk of the accidents of war. It does not hurt people any more to be killed in a railroad wreck than having their heads knocked off by a cannon shot. One of the most effective ways of impeding the march of an army is by cutting off its supplies; and this is just as legitimate as to attack it in line of battle. Jomini says that the irregular warfare of the Cossacks did more to destroy the French army on the expedition to Moscow than the élite regiments of the Russian guard. After the peace, all Europe hailed their hetman, Platoff, as the hero of the war, and the corporation of London gave him a sword.
But to return to my story. I had penetrated the enemy's lines, and the difficulty was now to get out. The sound of the cannon had given the alarm. The long roll was beaten through all the infantry camps, and the bugles sounded—"to horse." As I had never used a piece of artillery before, it was not known that I had it. It was thought at first that Stuart had come in behind them, and hence they advanced on me cautiously. When I had got about a mile from the railroad I met a regiment of New York cavalry (the 5th), in the road directly in front of me. It had come up from the camp below at Kettle Run to cut us off. We halted while Chapman unlimbered, and sent a shell at them, which, fortunately, burst at the head of the column, and killed the horse of the commanding officer. This created a stampede, and they scattered before another shell could get to them. The way was now open, and we went on by the horse lying with his accoutrements in the road. I made Foster and a few others gallop forward, to produce the impression that we were pursuing, but soon recalled them to the gun, as I was expecting the enemy every moment in my rear. We were now girt with foes on every side. It would, of course, have been easy to save ourselves by scattering through the woods, but I was fighting on a point of honor. I wanted to save the howitzer, or, if I had to lose it, I was determined to exact all that it was worth in blood. After we got about a mile further on, the regiment we had broken rallied, and with reinforcements came on again in pursuit. Another shell was thrown at them, and they fell back. We were just on the edge of a wood, and I ordered Chapman to go forward with his gun at a gallop, while I remained behind with six men as a rear-guard to cover the retreat.
Clouds of cavalry which had been attracted by the firing were now seen in different directions, and the enemy once more moved toward us. With less than 50 men I was confronting Deforest's brigade of cavalry. At one time we had been entirely enveloped by them, but had broken through their line. As the enemy came near we slowly withdrew. Their advance guard of 12 or 15 men suddenly dashed upon us as we were retiring through the woods. We wheeled and had a fierce hand-to-hand fight, in which they were routed and driven back. Several of their dead and wounded were left on the ground. I have before spoken of Capt. Hoskins, an English officer, who had recently joined me. He was riding by my side when the fight began. The tradition of chivalry inherited from the ancient knights of using the sword in single combat still asserted its dominion over him, but my other men had no more use for that antiquated weapon than a coat of mail. They had discarded it as a useless incumbrance. Hoskins was in the act of giving a thrust when he was shot. In an instant after, his adversary fell before a deadly revolver. Hoskins's wound was mortal. When the fight was over, he was taken to the house of an Englishman near by, and lived a day or two. Thus died as gallant a gentleman as ever pricked his steed over Palestine's plains. He had passed without a scar through the fire of the Redan and the Malakoff to fall in a petty skirmish in the American forests. I could not stay by him, and I had no means of carrying him off. The overwhelming numbers pressing upon us forced a retreat, and we had to leave him by the roadside with his life-blood ebbing fast away. The horse that I had presented to him disdained capture and followed us. I gave it to Beattie. He was buried in his martial cloak at Greenwich church, and now, like Lara,
Sleeps not where his fathers sleep.
Seeing that no hope was left us but to save our honor and stand by the gun, I sent Foster with an order to Chapman to halt and unlimber in a narrow lane on a hill. The high fences on both sides were some protection against a flank attack of cavalry. I knew we could hold the position as long as the ammunition lasted for the gun. Some of the men who had joined me, thinking that they were going on a picnic, had already left to fry their shad and eat the confectioneries they had got on the train. When I rode up to Chapman, he had his gun already shotted. Mountjoy and Beattie were standing by it. Their faces beamed with what the Romans called thegaudia certaminis, and they had never looked so happy in their lives. As for myself, realizing the desperate straits we were in, I wished I was somewhere else.
Sam Chapman and his brother William, who afterward became the lieutenant-colonel of my battalion, had commanded the battery which, under Longstreet's orders, had shattered Fitz John Porter's corps in its assault on Jackson's line at Groveton heights. When the Federal cavalry came in sight a couple of hundred yards off, he sent them a shell that exploded in their ranks, and they fell back in confusion to the woods. They re-formed and came again. If they had deployed as foragers, we would have been driven away without inflicting much loss on them. But they committed the error of charging up the road in a solid column of fours, where every discharge from the gun raked them with grape and canister. They made several successive onsets of this kind, which Chapman repulsed. In turn, we would charge and drive them a considerable distance, and then return to the gun. This was repeated several times over ground strewn with their killed and wounded men and horses. The damage done here to my side was that Bill Elzey had several teeth knocked out by a bullet. They used their sabres, and we the revolver. At last the supreme moment came. Chapman had rammed home his last round of ammunition, and a heavy column was again advancing. I sat on my horse just behind the gun: when they got within 50 yards, it again belched with fire and knocked down a number of men and horses in their front. They halted, and, at the same time, I ordered a charge, and drove them down to the foot of the hill. I was riding a spirited sorrel horse, who carried me with so much force that I could not hold him up until I had gone some distance through their ranks. Charlie McDonough followed me. As I passed by a big cavalryman he struck me a blow with his sabre on the shoulder that nearly knocked me from my seat. At the same instant my pistol flashed, and he reeled from his saddle. McDonough and I were now hemmed in by high fences on both sides; the Federal soldiers we had passed in the road, seeing that nearly all my men had left the gun, which had ceased firing, made a dash at it. Beattie managed to mount and get away. George Tuberville, who acted as driver, went off at full speed, and saved his two horses and limber-chest. Mountjoy, who was one of the bravest of the brave, was captured at the gun, after he had fired his last cartridge.
The Rev. Sam Chapman had passed through so many fights unscathed that the men had a superstition that he was as invulnerable as the son of Thetis. His hour had come at last, and a bullet pierced the celestial armor of the soldier-priest; but he fought with the rammer of his gun as he fell. He lived to pay the debt he contracted that day. "For time, at last, sets all things even." The victors now held the howitzer, and barred the only way for my escape; but I held in my hand a more potent talisman than Douglas threw into the Saracen ranks. My faith in the power of a six-shooter was as strong as the Crusader's was in the heart of the Bruce. I darted by the men who were now in possession of the gun, and received no hurt, except getting my face badly scratched by the limb of a tree as I passed. I had left Hoskins, Chapman, and Mountjoy in the hands of the enemy. Their shouts of triumph now rang through the woods; but no further pursuit was made. With a single companion, I stopped at a farmhouse, washed the blood from my face, and started back to get ready for another raid.
In a week I had rallied, and was down in Fairfax stirring up the outposts. Stuart sent me a message, that I might sell another gun for the same price. I had effected more than I had hoped. When the news of my rout reached headquarters at Fairfax Court House, a flaming despatch (which is printed in Moore's "Rebellion Record") was sent North, announcing that "within two or three days Mosby had lost 150 men, and Gen. Stahel will not let him rest until his band is exterminated." As I had all the time acted on the offensive, it was easy enough for me to get rest by keeping quiet. As I had never had one-half that number of men, of course I could not have lost them. As long as I could keep a thousand men watching on the defensive for every one that I had with me, it was a small matter who got the best in a fight.
The Count of Paris, who was a staff officer in the Union army, in his history of the war, mentions the two affairs on the railroad, and says: "In Washington itself, Gen. Heintzelman was in command, who, beside the depots, the regiments under instruction, and the artillery in the forts, had under his control several thousand infantry ready to take the field, and Stahel's division of cavalry, numbering 6000 horses, whose only task was to pursue Mosby and the few hundred partisans led by this daring chief." If Pleasanton had had those 6000 sabres with him a few days after this, on June 9, 1863, in his great cavalry combat with Stuart at Brandy Station, the result might have been different. Hooker had asked for them, but had been refused, on the ground that they could not be spared from the defence of Washington.3
"Fight as thy fathers fought,Fall as thy fathers fell!Thy task is taught, thy shroud is wrought;—So—forward—and farewell!"—Praed.
"Fight as thy fathers fought,Fall as thy fathers fell!Thy task is taught, thy shroud is wrought;—So—forward—and farewell!"—Praed.
"Fight as thy fathers fought,Fall as thy fathers fell!Thy task is taught, thy shroud is wrought;—So—forward—and farewell!"—Praed.
"Fight as thy fathers fought,
Fall as thy fathers fell!
Thy task is taught, thy shroud is wrought;—
So—forward—and farewell!"—Praed.
I nowturned my attention once more to the troops guarding the line of the Potomac and the defences of Washington. I was afraid that if I continued my attacks on the railroad and in the vicinity of Hooker's camps, the cavalry division of Stahel would be released from doing guard duty, and sent to the front on the Rappahannock.4So on June 3, only three days after I had been routed and my howitzer captured near Greenwich, I collected thirty or forty men and started once more for Fairfax. The cavalry down there had enjoyed a season of rest for several weeks. We passed by Fryingpan at night, and slept in a thicket of pines on the Ox road. John Underwood was sent forward with a squad of men to fire on the pickets or patrols. I knew that this would draw out a force in search of us the next morning. Just as I had got in a doze I heard several shots. The men burst out laughing, and said, "That's John Underwood." I had directed him to remain concealed by the roadside to watch for any scouting party of the enemy that might come out in the morning. About sunrise I received a message from him that a body of about fifty cavalry had gone up the road. In an instant we were all in our saddles; but just then Underwood galloped up and informed me that another body had passed on.
"How many do you think there are?"
"About 100," was his answer.
"All the better," I said; "we are in their rear. It is just as easy to whip 100 as 50. Forward, trot!"
The party of the first part got to Fryingpan and halted; we overtook the second party just as we got in sight of the first. They were utterly confounded at seeing a lot of men coming up on their rear, shooting and shouting. They hadn't time to wheel around to meet an attack from behind, but broke and ran away. They were driven pell-mell in a cloud of dust upon the body of cavalry that had halted at Fryingpan, and in turn they communicated the panic to their friends. I came very near being caught here in the same trap that I got in at Warrenton Junction, but managed to get out without loss, beside carrying off a number of prisoners and horses. Some of my men had chased the fugitives a few hundred yards when they unexpectedly came on a regiment of Federal cavalry drawn up in line just over a hill. I have since ascertained that it was Col. Gray of the 6th Michigan cavalry. He had come out on another road, and hearing the firing at Fryingpan, had formed to receive an attack. If he had followed the example of Major Hammond with the 5th New York, at Warrenton Junction, and charged us when we were in disorder and scattered over the field, that would in all probability have been my last day as a partisan commander. As soon as I heard of this third body of cavalry, which I had not seen, I drew off my men as rapidly as possible, while Col. Gray was waiting to receive us. He managed to catch Dr. Alexander, who was with me. I went off home with my spoil, and it was announced in Washington that I had once more been routed and driven away. A few days after that I caught a Federal surgeon, and set him free on the condition that he would try to secure the release of Alexander. He kept his pledge.
As I have before stated, I had two months before this time received authority from the war department, through Gen. Lee, to raise a command. A good many men had joined me, but a considerable number of them had been captured at different times by raiding parties of the enemy. As it was the third year of the war the soldier element in the country had been pretty well exhausted by conscription, and I was forbidden to receive recruits from this class subject to conscript duty. It was, therefore, very difficult for me to get 60 eligible men, which was the legal standard for organizing a company. By this time I had about that number on my muster roll; but at least a third of them were in prison, having been captured at various times by raiding parties of the enemy. On June 10, 1863, my first company was organized at Rector Crossroads, with James W. Foster as captain, Thomas Turner of Maryland as 1st, William L. Hunter (now of California) as 2d, and George Whitescomer as 3d lieutenant. In compliance with law, I had to go through the form of an election. But I really appointed the officers, and told the men to vote for them. This was my rule as long as I had a command, and with two or three exceptions their conduct vindicated my judgment. On the same day that the company was organized I started for the Potomac, as it was my policy to keep up a state of alarm about the capital. I had long meditated crossing the river, but it was not fordable during the spring and winter season. This was but a few weeks after the battle of Chancellorsville, and there was great fear at the North of a Confederate invasion.
Gen. Lee5was then moving up the Rappahannock on his way to Pennsylvania. I knew that if I only crossed over once, a small army would be detached to protect the border. Information had reached me that a squadron of Michigan cavalry was at Seneca; and I resolved to attack it. My plan was to cross the river at night, capture the patrols, and surprise the camp about daybreak.6Unfortunately, the night was very dark; my guide missed the way, and we did not get over the river until daybreak. I sent Alfred Glasscock, Joe Nelson, and Trunnell ahead, who concealed themselves in the bushes on the canal bank, and seized the patrol as it came along without giving any alarm. When I reached the northern bank they were waiting for me. The same party then went on up the towpath and captured a canal boat and some mules; while I halted a short time to close up the command. When we got near the bridge over the canal, we met another patrol, that fired and fled. They pulled up the drawbridge behind them; and it took us some minutes to replace it. This delay gave time to the cavalry in camp to saddle up. Before we got in 200 yards of them they retreated rapidly. After crossing a narrow bridge over Seneca Creek, they halted, and held it against a few of my men, who had pursued them. They were armed with carbines, and poured such a hot fire into the men that they started to fall back. Just then I rode up. Some of them were carrying Glasscock away, as he had been severely wounded.
After waiting a minute or two for my command to close up, we dashed across the bridge and completely routed the cavalry on the other bank. Frank Stringfellow rode by my side as I led the charge, but we had hardly got over before George Whitescarver was ahead of us. The Michigan men broke and fled, leaving behind 17 prisoners, 30 horses, their colors, four dead and one wounded, beside all their camp equipage and stores. They had formed a line of a crescent shape not more than 50 yards from the bridge, on which they poured a converging fire, but not one of us was touched in going over. I had not gone a hundred yards in pursuit when Foster, who was riding by me, said, as we passed a dead man in the road: "There is one of our boys." He was so begrimed with dust that I did not recognize him. It was Whitescarver. The men were soon recalled. I was apprehensive that the enemy's cavalry on the river above might come down the towpath and intercept us. Then there was the danger, if I tarried too long in Maryland, that Maj.-Gen. Stahel would be ready to catch me on the Virginia shore, for his camps were only a few miles below. I was accompanied that day by Capt. Brawner, who commanded an independent company, and had come over to Fauquier a few days before. With two or three men he had kept on after I had abandoned the pursuit, and was killed.7I returned to Middleburg unmolested, wrote a despatch to Stuart, and forwarded my prisoners. The next day I sent him the captured guidon, by Maj. White of his staff. The raid had all the effect I desired in arousing the fears of the enemy for the safety of the North.
Col. Thompson of the California cavalry battalion, who accompanied Col. Lowell in pursuit of me through Leesburg, recently informed me that when they got to Fairfax on their return they found Gen. Stahel's division prepared for battle. Stahel had sent out scouting parties over the country. I had no positive knowledge of the intention of Gen. Lee to invade the North, but all signs pointed that way. First came the news of Milroy's rout by Ewell at Winchester. As I was looking for Stuart every day, I made no more raids that week, but held my men ready to do any work that he wanted. On June 16 Stuart crossed the Rappahannock, and bivouacked near Piedmont station in Fauquier that night. On the same day I went with a few men on a scout in the neighborhood of Thoroughfare, to find out which way Hooker was moving. I saw from the smoke of his camp fires that he was retiring on Washington as Lee advanced toward the Potomac.
Early on the morning of the 17th I visited Stuart's headquarters at Miss Kitty Shacklett's house. As he was mounted on a very indifferent horse, I gave him a fine sorrel that one of my men had recently captured from a Michigan lieutenant. I told him what I knew about the position of the enemy, and that I was ready to perform any service he wanted. The cavalry moved on to Middleburg, and I met him there again in the afternoon. There were 30 or 40 of my men with me. He had never seen them before, and made some jocular remarks about them as they passed. We had a short conference, and he approved of the expedition on which I was going across the Potomac. There had been so many alarms along the enemy's lines that it was difficult for them to reinforce any one point more strongly than it had been; and I knew that they would now rely on the presence of Hooker's troops for the protection of Maryland. I did not think they were expecting me to come back to Seneca. My idea was to create a diversion in favor of Gen. Lee, who was marching into the Shenandoah valley, and also to keep him informed of the movement of the enemy. I bade Stuart "good by," and told him that he would soon hear from me. He had sent Wickham's brigade down to picket the gap in the Bull Run mountain at Aldie. His duty was to observe the enemy, and mask the movements of the Confederate army. My command turned off three miles above there, and moved again toward Seneca. It was a very hot day, and we had stopped a while to rest under the shade of some trees, and refresh ourselves with buttermilk at the house of a farmer named Gulick. Presently we heard artillery firing over toward Aldie, which indicated a collision of the enemy's cavalry with ours. In an instant every man was mounted. From a commanding position on the mountain, which we reached in a few minutes, I could see clouds of dust rising on every road, which showed that Hooker was marching for the Potomac. After going a little farther, we captured a number of prisoners, and I immediately sent a despatch to Stuart, with the information I got from them. I could not now get to Seneca without passing through Hooker's infantry, so I concluded to go down on the Little River turnpike, and operate on the line of communication between Pleasanton's cavalry and the general headquarters. I knew I could gather some prizes there, and probably keep Stahel's cavalry from coming to the front, by giving them plenty to do in their rear. So we kept ourselves concealed, like Robin Hood and his merry men, in the green wood until night, and then sallied out in quest of game. After it was dark, we moved to a point about four miles below Aldie, where Pleasanton and Rosser had been fighting, and on the pike leading to Fairfax Court House, near which Hooker's headquarters were established that evening. My command was now inside of Hooker's lines, and environed on all sides by the camps of his different corps. Along the pike a continuous stream of troops, with all the impedimenta of war, poured along. Taking three men with me—Joe Nelson, Charlie Hall, and Norman Smith—I rode out into the column of Union troops as they passed along. As it was dark, they had no suspicion who we were, although we were all dressed in full Confederate uniform. A man by the name of Birch lived in a house near the roadside, and I discovered three horses standing at his front gate, with a man holding them by their bridles. I was sure that he was an orderly, and that they were officers' horses. We rode up, and asked him to whom they belonged. He replied that they were Maj. Stirling's and Capt. Fisher's, and that they were just from Gen. Hooker's headquarters. I then called him up to me and took him by the collar, and leaning down, whispered in his ear: "You are my prisoner. My name is Mosby." The man, who was an Irishman, understood me to say that he was "Mosby," and indignantly replied, "You are a d—d liar. I am as good a Union man as you are." Just then in the starlight he saw the gleam of a pistol, and had nothing further to say.
In a few minutes the officers came out of the house. I saluted them, and asked which way they were going and where they were from. As we seemed to be in such friendly relations with their orderly, they never suspected our hostile character, and promptly answered that they were from Gen. Hooker's headquarters, and were carrying despatches to Pleasanton. Capt. Fisher was his chief signal officer, going up to establish a signal station at Snicker's gap—if he could get there. By this time my men had dismounted, and as I was talking to Maj. Stirling, Joe Nelson walked up, and, politely extending his hand, asked for his pistol. Charlie Hall, not to be outdone in courtesy by Joe, proposed to relieve Capt. Fisher of his. They both misunderstood what Hall and Nelson meant, and offered to shake hands with them. In an instant the barrels of four glittering revolvers informed them that death was their doom if they refused to be prisoners. Resistance was useless and they surrendered. All now mounted quickly and we left the pike. As we started, both officers burst out laughing. I asked them what they were laughing at. They said they had laughed so much about their people being gobbled up by me that they were now enjoying the joke being turned on themselves. They were then informed that I knew that they had despatches for Pleasanton, and that they could relieve me of performing a disagreeable duty by handing them over. Maj. Stirling promptly complied. I then went to a farmer's house near by, got a light, and read them.8They contained just such information as Gen. Lee wanted, and were the "open sesame" to Hooker's army. I wrote a note to Stuart to go with the despatches, which were sent with the prisoners under charge of Norman Smith. He got to Stuart's headquarters about daybreak. The skies were red that night in every direction with the light of the fires of the Union army. We slept soundly within a mile of Birney's corps at Gum Spring, and in the morning began operations on the pike. We soon got as many fish in our nets as we could haul out, and then returned into the Confederate lines. Stuart was delighted to see me; he had also learned from the captured despatches that a cavalry reconnoissance would be sent to Warrenton the next day. Notice of it was sent to Gen. Hampton, who met and repulsed it.
After a series of indecisive engagements, extending through several days, Pleasanton, finally, on the 21st of June, supported by a force of infantry, drove Stuart back to Ashby's Gap in the Blue Ridge. Having effected the object of his reconnoissance, which was to ascertain the position of the Confederate army that was then moving down the Shenandoah Valley, Pleasanton retired on the same night to Aldie, where the 5th Corps was posted, and did not again assume the offensive as long as Hooker remained in Virginia. He stood on the defensive and simply watched and waited. On the next day, Stuart re-established his lines about Middleburg, with his headquarters at Rector's Crossroads, where he kept up communication with Gen. Lee, who was at Berryville. Hill and Longstreet were near there, and Ewell had gone into Maryland. On the afternoon when Pleasanton followed the Confederate cavalry through Upperville to the mountain, I was with my command on Dulony's farm, about a mile from the pike, as he passed. I determined again to strike at his rear. As we were passing Bull Run mountain by a narrow path that night, one of my men, about the middle of the column, dropped his hat, and stopped to pick it up. It was pitch dark; and, as those in front of him knew nothing about it, they kept on. The men behind him halted. This cut my column in two; and half of it wandered all night in the woods, but never found me. We slept in a drenching rain on the top of the mountain, and started early in the morning. As we were going through Dr. Ewell's farm, I stopped to talk with him; but the men went on. Presently, I saw them halt near a church in the woods; and one of them beckoned to me. I galloped up, and saw a body of about thirty cavalry drawn up not a hundred yards in front of us. I instantly ordered a charge; and, just as we got upon them, they ran away, while a heavy fire was poured into us by a company of infantry concealed in the church. A negro had carried the news of our being on the mountain to Gen. Meade, who had prepared this ambuscade for me. Three of my men—Charlie Hall, Mountjoy, and Ballard—were wounded; the latter losing a leg. The lieutenant commanding the Federal cavalry was killed. I was not ten steps from the infantry when they fired the volley. We fell back to the mountain; and, no doubt, Gen. Meade thought that I was done for—at least for that day. After taking care of my wounded, I started again for the Little River Pike, which we reached by flanking Gen. Meade. Pretty soon we caught a train of twenty wagons, and proceeded to unhitch the mules. I did not have more than one man to a wagon. The guard to the train rallied, and recaptured some of the animals, and two of my men; but we got away with most of them. That night they were delivered to Stuart's quartermaster. This raid is a fine illustration of the great results that may be achieved by a partisan force co-operating with the movements of an army. My principal aim in these operations was to get information for Stuart, and, by harassing the communications of the Federal army, to neutralize with my small command Stahel's three brigades of cavalry in Fairfax.9
It happened that on June 22—the very day we captured the wagon train—Gen. Stahel, in obedience to Hooker's orders, had gone from Fairfax with three cavalry brigades and a battery of artillery, on a reconnoissance to the Rappahannock. On June 23, just as one of his brigades had crossed over the river, and the other two were in the act of crossing, he received an order from Gen. Hooker to return immediately, and to dispose his force so as to catch the party inside his lines that had captured his wagon train. We had got to Stuart's headquarters with Hooker's mules before Stahel got the order. He did not come there to search for them. If he had not been recalled, he might have done much damage on Gen. Lee's line of communication, as it was entirely uncovered. In fact, there was no Confederate force between him and Richmond. When afterward, Gen. Hooker, before the committee on the conduct of the war, criticised the authorities at Washington so severely for keeping this large force to watch my small one, he had forgotten that he had done the same thing himself.10In a letter to Stuart, dated June 23, 1863, 5P.M., Gen. Lee refers with some uneasiness to this expedition of Stahel. He did not know at the time that Stahel had gone back. In an interview I had with Stuart on my return, we discussed the best route for him to go into Maryland. As I knew all the roads, as well as the location of each corps of the enemy, that were all wide apart, I thought he ought to go through an unguarded gap of the Bull Run mountain, and, cutting his way right through the middle of the Union army, cross the Potomac at Seneca.11It was the shortest route he could go into Maryland, and there was a splendid opportunity to destroy Hooker's transportation as he went along, and to cut off communication between Washington and the North. The plan was at that time perfectly practicable. Hooker was in a defensive attitude, waiting the development of Lee's plans, and only a small portion of the cavalry was necessary to be held in our front to observe the enemy and report their movements to the commanding general. The plan was to leave two brigades of cavalry about Middleburg to do this work, while Stuart, with three brigades, should pass through Hooker's army into Maryland. The brigades selected to be left behind were those of Jones and Beverly H. Robertson, under command of the latter, who happened to be the ranking officer. They numbered over 3000 men, and exceeded in strength the three that Stuart took with him.
As Hancock's corps was holding Hopewell and Thoroughfare gaps, the road that Stuart determined to go was through Glasscock's gap (a few miles south of Thoroughfare) via Haymarket, through Loudoun to Seneca ford on the Potomac. The part assigned to me was to cross the Bull Run at night by the bridle path I had so frequently travelled, and, uniting with Stuart near Gum Spring in Loudoun, take command of his advance guard. Hooker's headquarters were still at Fairfax station, with his army spread out like a fan over Loudoun, Prince William and Fairfax counties, his left being at Thoroughfare, his right at Leesburg, with his centre at Aldie, and Pleasanton's cavalry in front of it. Stuart's plan, of course, contemplated his crossing of the river in advance of Hooker or Lee, and opening communication with Ewell as soon as he was over. During our interview Gen. Hampton and Fitz Lee came into the room, and soon afterward Stuart started a courier off to Gen. Lee. I have been informed by one of his staff that he rode over to Berryville that day to have a personal interview with the commanding general. Before we parted, he told me that Gen. Lee was very apprehensive that Hooker would steal a march and get into Maryland ahead of him, and asked me to go and find out if any portion of his army was crossing the river. Although I had been almost continuously in the saddle for three days and nights, I agreed to return inside of Hooker's lines. With only two men I crossed the Bull Run again that night, and early the next morning was riding in full Confederate uniform through the Union army.
I soon sent Stuart a despatch that I was certain Hooker's army was not in motion. Proceeding some distance down the pike with my single companion, we had stopped to talk with a citizen, when four lieutenants belonging to the 3d corps, that was camped near by, walked up to us. There was a drizzling rain, and we had waterproofs thrown over our shoulders. As they were in full view of their camps, they had no suspicion of danger and were without arms. After talking with them for some minutes, they were stunned by a demand for their surrender. I sent them back under guard of one man, with another despatch to Stuart. I then rode on alone down into Fairfax, where I met some of my old acquaintances, who thought when they first saw me that it was my ghost.
Having learned all about the situation of Hooker's army, I started back. I stopped at the house of John I. Coleman to inquire the shortest way to the pike. It was the first time he ever saw me, and, although I showed him my gray uniform and star, he thought I was trying to play a Yankee trick on him, and refused to tell me anything. While we were talking, I heard a noise behind me. Turning around, I saw two mounted men approaching us. When within about fifty yards, they stopped, and began picking cherries from a tree. I drew my pistol, but kept it under my gum cloth, and rode up to them. They never suspected that I was an enemy. I asked them where they were from; they answered that they were on duty with Reynolds' corps that was camped near by at Guilford. They had no arms; so, of course, had to surrender. When Coleman saw this affair, he was more convinced than ever that I was a Yankee dressed up in gray. I had to get to the pike the best way I could. So I tied the heads of my prisoners' horses together with their halters, to keep them from running away, and went on.
It was near sunset when I came in sight of the pike, about four miles below Aldie. There was a wagon train a mile or so in length passing on the road, with a strong cavalry guard, that was carrying supplies to the troops above. I was anxious to get to Stuart that night, and knew that if I waited for the train to pass, it would be dark, and I could not find the mountain path. So I drew my pistol, held it under cover, and told my prisoners that if they spoke a word they would be dead men. I then rode, with them by my side, through a gap in the fence into the pike, right among the Union cavalry. We could not cross over at that point, as the fence on the other side of the road was too high for our horses to leap. We went along for 200 yards, with my prisoners, through the wagon train and cavalry escort, until we got to a road leading away from the pike. Here we turned off. The gum cloth I had over my shoulders to protect me from the rain, as it did not cover one-third of my body, did not conceal the uniform I wore. I had ridden through the ranks of a column of Union cavalry in broad daylight, with two prisoners, and my elbow had actually struck against one as I passed. In doing so I had acted on the maxim of Danton—Audace, toujours audace. Finding that I could not reach the mountain before night, and fearing to go to sleep in the woods alone with my prisoners, I took their paroles and sent them back to their friends. Of course, I kept their horses. Early the next morning I was again at Stuart's headquarters.12
Stuarthad now received his final instructions from General Lee, authorizing him to move into Maryland, around the rear of the enemy and between him and Washington. He was likewise instructed to do them all the damage he could on his way. With his transportation destroyed and communications broken, Hooker would be seriously embarrassed in pursuing General Lee, or probably forced to fall back for supplies, or to defend the capital against this demonstration. In the meantime, while Hooker was thus delayed, the Confederates would have been levying contributions on the farmers in Pennsylvania. His original plan, which was bold in conception and perfectly practicable in execution, was thwarted by an event which he could not control. It was obvious now that Hooker would notinitiateany movement, but would confine himself to covering the capital and observing his adversary. It was equally plain that when the Confederate army made a move west of the Blue Ridge, Hooker would make a corresponding one on the east. It was, therefore, all important for the success of Stuart's movement that thestatus quoof the two armies should be preserved until he could get through Hooker's army to the river, when it would be too late for Hooker to take any step to defeat it. The distance was not more than twenty miles to the Potomac from the point where he would enter Hooker's lines; and this could be got over between sunrise and sundown, as he intended to march in three parallel columns. He knew the country well, and the position of each corps; and it would have been easy enough for him to flank them. Before Pleasanton could have got ready to follow the blazing meteor, it would have been out of sight. The three brigades that were to accompany Stuart were quietly withdrawn from Pleasanton's front on the evening of June 24, and marched in a southerly direction to their rendezvous at Salem. Those of Jones and Robertson were put in the position they had held about Middleburg, and, of course, were charged with the ordinary duty of cavalry on a post of observation. As Gen. Stuart says in his report, "Robertson's and Jones's brigades, under command of the former, were left in observation of the enemy, on the usual front (about Middleburg), with full instructions as to following of the enemy, in case of withdrawal, and joining our main army." An order to a cavalry officer toobservean enemy, of course implies that he is to report what he sees; otherwise, there is no use in his observing. Stuart left behind a force of over 3000 cavalry, which was amply sufficient for every purpose. By daybreak, on the morning of the 25th, his column debouched through Glassock's Gap, in the Bull Run, and proceeded towards Haymarket. At the same time I started across by the route I had been travelling for a week, to connect with him at the appointed place. We had stopped at a spring on the mountain side to make our breakfast on some sutlers' stores that had been saved from our captives. Two men had been sent forward on a picket; but they had scarcely got a hundred yards before a volley was fired; and the bullets whistled all around us. We sprang upon our horses; but, as the men did not return, we knew that they must have been killed or captured. General Meade, whose camps were near by, had prepared an ambuscade a second time for me, but I had escaped. (I wonder if he would have called thisbushwhacking.) We made adetouraround them, and hurried on to join Stuart; as we could hear his cannon about Haymarket. It seems that when Stuart got there, he found the roads on which he intended to march that day occupied by Hancock's corps, that had broken up camp that morning, and was moving towards the Potomac. When I got to the Little River Pike, about eight miles below Aldie, which was to be our point of junction, instead of meeting him we struck the head of Hancock's column. His divisions were marching on every road. I spent the day and night riding about among them, and with great difficulty extricated myself from the dilemma in which I was placed. I could not find out where Stuart was, nor he where I was; for Hancock was between us. So I retraced my steps and went on to Pennsylvania through the Shenandoah Valley, passing General Robertson's command, that was quietly resting in Ashby's and Snicker's Gaps, in the Blue Ridge, after the enemy retired on the 26th. Pleasanton that day had moved by his flank, across General Robertson's front, to Leesburg, to cover the crossing of Hooker's army. Why he should have halted and remained idle three days in the gaps of the Blue Ridge in Virginia after both armies had marched into Pennsylvania is a mystery that has never been satisfactorily explained. If there were any sound military reasons for his staying therethreedays, there were equally as sound ones for his not leaving at all. His proper position was on General Lee's flank, next to the enemy, in order to protect his rear and to keep him informed of their movement.
If General Robertson had then in obedience to General Lee's and Stuart's instructions, promptly followed the enemy along the base of South Mountain through Boonesboro, the Confederate cavalry might easily have reached Gettysburg in advance of the Federal troops. In this event, there would not have been the accidental collision of armies. General Lee would have fought a defensive battle, and Gettysburg might have been to Southern hearts something more than "a glorious field of grief." Even as it was, Stuart's movement around his rear had so confused General Meade, that his army was more scattered than ours, and two of his corps in the first day's fight, were caughtin delictoand crushed. He was looking for Lee on the Susquehanna, when in fact he was concentrating on Gettysburg.
On account of Hancock's unexpected movement, Stuart had been compelled to make a wider circuit than he had intended, and did not cross the Potomac until the night of the twenty-seventh, the day after Hooker got over. He thence moved northerly towards the Susquehanna, to put himself on Ewell's flank in accordance with the instructions of General Lee. But owing to the derangement of his plans by the advance of the Union army, without General Robertson having given him notice of it, Ewell had been recalled, and Stuart did not join the army until July the second, at Gettysburg, when the battle was raging. But Robertson's command had not even then come up. This movement of Stuart's around the rear of Hooker's army has been condemned by General Long, the military secretary and biographer of General Lee, as having been undertaken either "from misapprehension of his instructions, or love of the éclat of a bold raid" (which, of course, implies disobedience of orders);13and General Longstreet says that as he was leaving the Blue Ridge, he instructed Stuart to follow him down the Valley, and cross the Potomac at Shepherdstown, but that Stuart replied that he had discretionary powers from General Lee where to cross the Potomac.
When this charge was made against Stuart, both the critics were viewing his movement in the light of the disaster to our arms at Gettysburg, and it was more agreeable to put the blame of it on a dead man than a living one. General Long, who had access to the Confederate archives, may plead the blindness with which he is afflicted as an excuse for his error, and I have no doubt that General Longstreet has forgotten that his own letter to Stuart contradicts his statement.
Gen. Lee made two reports of this campaign; one written in July, 1863, a few weeks after the battle; and a more detailed one in January, 1864. There is a slight color of truth in the imputation cast upon Stuart that Gen. Lee intended to censure him in his report. But this is owing to a false interpretation given to it by persons who have construed a single sentence literally, and not in connection with others that qualify and explain it.14Gen. Lee does say: "It was expected that as soon as the Federal army should cross the Potomac,Gen. Stuartwould give notice of its movements, and nothing having been heard from him since our entrance into Maryland, it was inferred that the enemy had not yet left Virginia. Orders were therefore issued to move on Harrisburg." Now if all that Gen. Lee says in his report about Stuart's cavalry is read, togetheras a whole, it is apparent that in the sentence above quoted, he usesStuart'sname not in a personal sense, but descriptive of his cavalry corps, for in another place he says that Stuart had been directed to divide his cavalry, leaving a portion to watch the enemy in front of the mountain passes in Virginia, and "with theremainderto cross into Maryland and place himself on the right of Gen. Ewell," who was marching on Harrisburg.15
Clearly Gen. Lee did not intend to involve himself in the contradiction of saying that he expected Stuartpersonallyto perform at the same time the double duty of watching Hooker along the Potomac, and guarding Ewell's flank on the Susquehanna.16Gen. Lee in thus referring to Stuart was somewhat careless and inaccurate in his language, as he was when, in describing the battle of Gettysburg, he said that Robertson's commandarrivedon July 3d, when, in fact, it never got nearer than Cashtown, some eight miles from the battle-field. But Gen. Lee is explicit in saying,in his report, that he gave Stuart full authority to make the movement around the enemy's rear. Among the Confederate archives in Washington, I have at last found in Gen. Lee's confidential letter-book his final instructions to Stuart, which have never been published, which must set this controverted question at rest forever. At the time when they were written, Gen. Lee's headquarters were at Berryville. They are dated June 23, 1863, 5P.M.
In them Gen. Lee presents to Stuart the alternative of crossing the Potomac west of the Blue Ridge at Shepherdstown and moving over to Frederick, Md., or, "you will, however, be able to judge whether you can pass around their army without hindrance, doing them all the damage you can, and cross the river east of the mountains. In either case, after crossing the river, you must move on and feel the right of Ewell's troops, collecting information, provisions, etc." In a letter to Stuart dated June 22, he had said: "If you find that he is moving northward, and that two brigades can guard the Blue Ridge and take care of your rear, you can move with the other three into Maryland and take position on General Ewell's right, place yourself in communication with him, guard his flank and keep him informed of the enemy's movements, and collect all the supplies you can for the use of the army. One column of General Ewell's army will probably move towards the Susquehanna by the Emmetsburg route, another by Chambersburg." The intention of General Lee clearly was that Stuart with one portion of the cavalry was to guard Ewell's flank and give him information of the enemy. The other was to be left17behind, as he says in his report, "to hold the mountain passesas long as the enemy remained south of the Potomac." To suppose that Gen. Lee intended them to remain there after the enemy had gone is to suppose that he was not only unfit to command an army, but even a corporal's guard. It is clear that he intended the two brigades under Robertson to perform the same service for the column of Longstreet and Hill (with whom he had his headquarters) as Stuart was to do for Ewell, who was separated from him. When these two corps crossed the Potomac on the 25th,he knewthat Stuart had not crossedwestof the Ridge in advance of them. He would not have committed the blunder of marching all his infantry into Pennsylvania knowing that all his cavalry was in Virginia. He must, therefore, have expected for Stuart to cross the Potomac on the same day to theeastof the Ridge; which he would have done but for Hancock's movement. Some have contended that his anxious inquiries for Stuart when he got to Chambersburg prove that he did not know which way he had gone. They only show that he did not know where Stuart wasat that time. As Stuart had been directed to open communication, as soon as he got into Pennsylvania, with Ewell, and had not been able to do so on account of the Federal army getting between them, Gen. Lee, not having heard from him, very naturally felt a great deal of solicitude for his safety. If Gen. Lee had not thought that he would cross the Potomac somewhere on the same day that he did, he would have waited and sent for him. But again, Gen. Lee would not assume the responsibility of authorizing Stuart to go around Hooker's rear unless the movement had the approval of Gen. Longstreet, whose headquarters were at Millwood, not far from Berryville. Gen. Lee's instructions to Stuart were therefore sent through Longstreet. In a letter to Stuart, Longstreet not only approves of Stuart's going into Maryland around the rear of the enemy, butopposeshis going the other route through the Shenandoah Valley, on the ground that it would disclose their plans to the enemy. In concluding his letter he says: