"Fight as thy fathers fought,
Fall as thy fathers fell!
Thy task is taught, thy shroud is wrought;--
So--forward--and farewell!"--_Praed._
I now turned 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.[4] So 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.
[4] In his testimony before the committee on the conduct of
the war, Gen. Hooker says, vol. I, page 162:
"I may here state that while at Fairfax Court House my
cavalry was reinforced by that of Maj.-Gen. Stahel. The
latter numbered 6100 sabres, and had been engaged in
picketing a line from Occoquan River to Goose Creek. This
line was concentric to, and a portion of it within, the line
held by my army. The force opposed to them was Mosby's
guerillas, numbering about 200 [not over thirty men]; and, if
the reports of the newspapers were to be believed, this whole
party was killed two or three times during the winter. From
the time I took command of the army of the Potomac there was
no evidence that any force of the enemy, other than that
above named, was within 100 miles of Washington City; and
yet, the planks on the chain bridge were taken up at night
during the greater part of the winter and spring. It was this
cavalry force, it will be remembered, I had occasion to ask
for, that my cavalry might be strengthened when it was
numerically too weak to cope with the superior numbers of the
enemy."
"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. Lee[5] was 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.[6] Unfortunately, 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.
[5] The following correspondence between Gen. Pleasanton,
chief of cavalry, and Gen. Ingalls, chief quartermaster of
the army of the Potomac, which I recently found in the
archives of the war department, shows the anxiety at that
time to suppress my command. I had never heard of it before
I saw it there. It is evident that somebody had hoaxed Gen.
Pleasanton, as the whole negotiation was confined to himself
and Gen. Ingalls. The fact that he had an unlimited amount
of money placed at his disposal for buying me, and did not
do it, is conclusive proof that there never had been a
chance for it:--
HEADQUARTERS CAVALRY CORPS, June 12, 1863.
GEN. R. INGALLS, _Chief Quartermaster_:--Your despatch
received. Ask the general how much of a bribe he can stand
to get Mosby's services. There is a chance for him; and
just now he could do valuable service in the way of
information, as well as humbugging the enemy. There's no
news. The rebels are like the boy the President tells
about who stumped his toe and was too big to cry. Birney
is up.
A. PLEASANTON, _Brigadier-General_.
HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC,
June 12, 1863.
GEN. PLEASANTON:--If you think your scheme can succeed
in regard to Mosby, do not hesitate as to the matter of
money. Use your own judgment, and do precisely what you
think best for the public interest.
ROBERT INGALLS,
_Brigadier-General_.
[6] MIDDLEBURG, VA., June 10, 1863.
GENERAL:--I left our point of rendezvous yesterday for the
purpose of making a night attack on two cavalry companies of
the enemy on the Maryland shore. Had I succeeded in crossing
the river at night, as I expected, I would have had no
difficulty in capturing them; but, unfortunately, my guide
mistook the road, and, instead of crossing by 11 o'clock at
night, I did not get over until after daylight. The enemy
(between 80 and 100 strong), being apprised of my movement,
were formed to receive me. A charge was ordered, the shock
of which the enemy could not resist; and they were driven
several miles in confusion, with the loss of seven killed, a
considerable number wounded, and 17 prisoners; also 20 odd
horses or more. We burned their tents, stores, camp
equipage, etc. I regret the loss of two brave officers
killed--Capt. Brawner and Lieut. (George H.) Whitescarver. I
also had one man wounded.
Respectfully your obedient servant,
JOHN S. MOSBY,
_Major of Partisan Rangers_.
MAJ.-GEN. J. E. B. STUART.
[_Indorsement._]
HEADQUARTERS CAVALRY DIVISION, June 16, 1863.
Respectfully forwarded. In consideration of his brilliant
services, I hope the President will promote Maj. Mosby.
J. E. B. STUART,
_Major-General_.
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.[7] I 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.
[7] One who was in command at Poolesville, Md., a few miles
from Seneca, reports: "About 250 of the enemy's cavalry
crossed the Potomac near Muddy Branch at daybreak. The enemy
dashed rapidly up the canal, driving in the patrols, and
attacked Capt. Deane's company (I) 6th Michigan cavalry, on
duty at Seneca locks. Capt. Deane fell back toward
Poolesville, forming line three times, and only retreating
when nearly surrounded. The enemy followed to within three
miles of Poolesville, when he rapidly retired, destroying
the camp of Capt. Deane, and recrossing the river at the
point where he had crossed. Our loss is four men killed, 16
men missing, one man wounded."
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.[8] They 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.
[8] Stuart's report of the Gettysburg campaign says: "Maj.
Mosby, with his usual daring, penetrated the enemy's lines
and caught a staff officer of Gen. Hooker--bearer of
despatches to Gen. Pleasanton, commanding United States
cavalry near Aldie. These despatches disclosed the fact that
Hooker was looking to Aldie with solicitude, and that
Pleasanton, with infantry and cavalry, occupied the place;
and that a reconnoissance in force of cavalry was meditated
toward Warrenton and Culpepper. I immediately despatched to
Gen. Hampton, who was coming by way of Warrenton from the
direction of Beverly ford, this intelligence, and directed
him to meet this advance at Warrenton. The captured
despatches also gave the entire number of divisions, from
which we could estimate the approximate strength of the
enemy's army. I therefore concluded in no event to attack
with cavalry alone the enemy at Aldie.... Hampton met the
enemy's advance toward Culpepper and Warrenton, and drove
him back without difficulty--a heavy storm and night
intervening to aid the enemy's retreat."
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]
[9] Gen. Stahel, in a report to the secretary of war, says
that on June 21 he received an order from Hooker's
headquarters to make a reconnoissance in force to Warrenton
and the upper Rappahannock. "In compliance with this order,"
he says, "I started with my command for Warrenton and the
upper Rappahannock. Just as I was about crossing the
Rappahannock with two brigades,--one of my brigades being
already across,--for the purpose of executing the above
orders, and to break up Gen. Lee's communication with
Richmond, and which could have been easily effected, as
there were but very few troops, and Gen. Lee's rear
consisting of their cavalry, with which Gen. Pleasanton was
engaged in the upper part of the valley, received the
following order from Hooker:
"'JUNE 23.
"'MAJ.-GEN. HANCOCK:--Direct Gen. Stahel to return
without delay; to dispose his forces so as to catch
the party inside our lines, if possible.'
"Another despatch stated that the force was about 100; that
they attacked one of our trains on the Aldie road.
"It was with feelings of bitter regret and disappointment
that I received this order, inasmuch as I was just crossing
the Rappahannock with three brigades of cavalry and a
battery of horse artillery, who were just fresh from camp,
etc.... All of Lee's supplies had to pass up between the
Rappahannock and Blue Ridge mountains or cross to the
Shenandoah valley; and my force was sufficient to have
destroyed his entire trains and to cut off Gen. Lee
completely from his supplies.... I was compelled by this
order to abandon my movement, and restrained from dealing
so fatal a blow to the enemy, and return with my whole
division to disperse about 100 guerillas who had escaped
back out of our lines before I ever received the order to
return."
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.[10] In a letter to
Stuart, dated June 23, 1863, 5 P.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.[11] It 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.
[10] [_Telegram._]
GAINSVILLE, 11 A.M., June 23, 1863.
STAHEL TO BUTTERFIELD, _Chief of Staff to Hooker_: Your
order to return without delay received through Maj.-Gen.
Hancock, after midnight; made arrangements at once, and my
advance arrived here from Warrenton this morning at 8
o'clock.... In accordance with your order, I shall scout the
whole country, from Bull Run mountain toward Fairfax Court
House, and have ordered the rest of my command and my train
to Fairfax, where I shall report personally to you.
[11] It now appears from their correspondence that Stuart,
Longstreet, and Gen. Lee had already been discussing the
feasibility of his going this route.
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]
[12] Stuart's report says: "... I resumed my own position
now, at Rector's cross roads, and being in constant
communication with the commanding general, had scouts busily
employed watching and reporting the enemy's movements, and
reporting the same to the commanding general. In this
difficult search the fearless and indefatigable Maj. Mosby
was particularly active and efficient. His information was
always accurate and reliable."