CHAPTER XIV.

Soon after the outbreak of war in the spring of 1861 the First

Regiment of Virginia Cavalry was organized with J. E. B. Stuart as

colonel. He was then just twenty-eight years of age, a native of

Virginia and a graduate of West Point. As lieutenant of cavalry he had

had some experience in Indian warfare in the West in which he had been

wounded; and in the raid of John Brown on the United States arsenal at

Harper's Ferry had acted as aide to Colonel (afterwards General)

Robert E. Lee.

The First Virginia Cavalry was attached to the command of General

Joseph E. Johnston in the Shenandoah valley and assigned to the duty

of watching Patterson, who had crossed the Potomac and was threatening

the Southern army, then at Winchester. I was a private in a company of

cavalry called the Washington Mounted Rifles, which was commanded by

Capt. William E. Jones, an officer who some years before had retired

from the United States army, and gave the company the name of his old

regiment. Jones was a graduate of West Point and had been a comrade of

Stonewall Jackson's while there. He has often entertained me in his

tent at night with anecdotes of that eccentric genius. No man in the

South was better qualified to mould the wild element he controlled

into soldiers. His authority was exercised mildly but firmly, and to

the lessons of duty and obedience he taught me I acknowledge that I am

largely indebted for whatever success I may afterwards have had as a

commander.

I first saw Stuart in the month of July, 1861, at a village called

Bunker Hill on the pike leading from Winchester to Martinsburg, where

Patterson was camped. His regiment was stationed there to observe the

movements of the Union army. His personal appearance bore the stamp of

his military character, the fire, the dash, the energy and physical

endurance that seemed able to defy all natural laws. Simultaneously

with the movement of McDowell against Beauregard, began Patterson's

demonstration to keep Johnston at Winchester. It was, however, too

feeble to have any effect except to neutralize his own forces. The

plan of the Southern generals was to avoid a battle in the valley and

concentrate their armies at Manassas. The duty was assigned to

Stuart's cavalry of masking the march of Johnston to Manassas and at

the same time watching Patterson. General Scott had ordered him to

feel the enemy strongly and not to allow him to escape to Manassas to

reinforce Beauregard. Patterson replied in the most confident tone

that he was holding Johnston.

After the battle had been won by the Confederates, in reply to Scott's

criticism upon him for not having engaged them, Patterson comforted

him with the assurance that if he had done so, Scott would have had to

mourn the defeat of two armies instead of one. The records show that

at that time Patterson had about 18,000 men and Johnston about 10,000.

On the 15th of July, Patterson advanced and drove us with artillery

from our camp at Bunker Hill. Stuart had none to reply with. All of us

thought a battle at Winchester was imminent. Patterson had one

regiment of the regular besides some volunteer cavalry from

Philadelphia, but made no use of them. He never sent his cavalry

outside his infantry lines, and their only service was to add to the

pomp and circumstance of war on reviews and parades. He stayed one day

at Bunker Hill, and then, thinking he had done enough in driving us

away, turned off squarely to the left and marched down to Charlestown.

He had not been in twelve miles of our army, and this was the way he

executed General Scott's order to feel it strongly.

Stuart still hung so close on his flanks that he occasionally let a

shell drop among us. As soon as the movement to Charlestown was

developed, Johnston received intelligence of it through Stuart. He saw

then that Patterson did not intend an attack, and got ready to join

Beauregard. The Union general went into camp at Charlestown while the

Confederate folded his tent like the Arab and quietly stole away.

Stuart spread a curtain of cavalry between the opposing armies which

so effectually concealed the movement of Johnston, that Patterson

never suspected it until it had been accomplished. The telegraphic

correspondence at that time between Generals Scott and Patterson now

reads like an extract from the transactions of the Pickwick Club.

On July 13th, Scott telegraphs to Patterson: "Make demonstrations

to detain Johnston in the valley." July 14th, Patterson replies:

"Will advance to-morrow. Unless I can rout shall be careful not to

set him in full retreat toward Strasburg." He seemed to be afraid

of frightening Johnston so much that he would run away. Again, Scott

telegraphs to Patterson: "Do not let the enemy amuse and delay you

with a small force in front whilst he reinforces the junction with his

main body." This shows that General Scott, who was in Washington, had

the sagacity to discern what we were likely to do.

On July 18th, General Scott says to him: "I have been certainly

expecting you to beat the enemy. If not, to hear that you had felt

him strongly, or, at least, had occupied him by threats, and

demonstrations." At that time Patterson was twenty miles distant from

Johnston and never got any closer. This was all the feeling he did. On

the same day Patterson replies: "The enemy has stolen no march on me.

I have kept him actively employed, and by threats and reconnoissances

in force caused him to be reinforced." At that time, Johnston was

marching to Manassas, and Stuart's cavalry were watching the smoke as

it curled from the Union camps at Charlestown.

Again, on July 18th, in order to make General Scott feel perfectly

secure, Patterson tells him: "I have succeeded, in accordance with the

wishes of the General-in-Chief, in keeping Johnston's force at

Winchester. A reconnoissance in force on Tuesday caused him to be

largely reinforced from Strasburg." And on July 21st, when the

junction of the two armies had been effected, and the great battle was

raging at Manassas, he telegraphs to Scott: "Johnston left Millwood

yesterday to operate on McDowell's right and to turn through Loudoun

on me."

As Patterson was haunted by the idea that Johnston was after him,

although he had marched in an opposite direction, he concluded to

retreat to Harper's Ferry. The success of Johnston's strategy in

eluding Patterson and cheating him into the belief that he was still

in the valley, is due to the vigilance of Stuart and his activity and

skill in the management of cavalry. The Northern General never

discovered how badly he had been fooled until the day of the battle,

when he was too far away to give any assistance. But Stuart was not

satisfied with the work he had done. After the infantry had been

transferred to the railroad east of the Blue Ridge, he left a single

company as a veil in front of Patterson and joined the army at

Manassas on the evening before the battle. We had been almost

continuously in the saddle for a week, and I have a vivid remembrance

of the faces of the men--bronzed with sun and dust from the long

march. The two armies were in such close contact that all knew there

would be a battle on the morrow. Patterson was safe in the valley.

When he was before the committee on the Conduct of the War to give his

reasons for not advancing on Johnston at Winchester, he filed a paper

containing the following statement: "Among the regiments there was one

of Kentucky riflemen armed with heavy bowie knives; they refused to

take more than one round of cartridges. They proposed to place

themselves in the bushes for assault." Of course, no prudent commander

would lead men where they would be disembowelled by an enemy hidden in

the bushes. Perhaps General Patterson was imitating the example of

Othello, and trying to captivate Congressmen, as the Moor did the ear

of Desdemona, with tales of

The cannibals that do each other eat;

The anthropophagi, and men whose heads

Do grow beneath their shoulders.

On the night before the battle, the raw troops were excited by every

noise, and the picket firing was incessant. We slept soundly in our

bivouac in the pines, and early in the morning were awakened by the

reveille that called us to arms. As the sun rose, the rattle of

musketry began along Bull Run, and soon from one end of the line to

the other there was a continuous roar of small arms and artillery.

War loses a great deal of its romance after a soldier has seen his

first battle. I have a more vivid recollection of the first than the

last one I was in. It is a classical maxim that it is sweet and

becoming to die for one's country; but whoever has seen the horrors

of a battle-field feels that it is far sweeter to live for it. The

Confederate generals had expected a battle on our right; as a fact,

our left wing was turned, and the battle was mostly fought by

Johnston's troops, who, having come up the day before, had been held

in reserve. Stuart's regiment having just arrived, had not been sent

on the outposts, and hence is in no way responsible for the surprise.

In the crisis of the battle, when Jackson with his brigade was

standing like a stone wall against the advancing host, he called for

Stuart's cavalry to support him. Stuart sent one squadron to Jackson's

right, under the Major, who did nothing (I was with him), while with

six companies he came up on Jackson's left, just in time to charge and

rout the Ellsworth Zouaves. Their general, in his report, says that he

was never able to rally them during the fight.

This cavalry charge had an important effect upon the fortunes of the

day, as it delayed the enemy, and gave time for troops to come to the

relief of Jackson, who was then hard pressed by superior numbers.

Stuart afterward, with a battery of artillery, led the turning

movement that caused the rout, and associated the stream of Bull Run

with the most memorable panic in history. Shortly after the battle,

all the cavalry of the army was organized into a brigade, with Stuart

in command. Jones was also promoted to be colonel of the regiment, and

Fitz Lee became lieutenant-colonel. From this time until the army

evacuated Manassas, in the spring of 1862, the cavalry was almost

exclusively engaged in outpost duty. McClellan kept close to the

fortifications around Washington while he was organizing the army of

the Potomac, and his cavalry rarely ventured beyond his infantry

pickets. No field was open for brilliant exploits; but the discipline

and experience of a life on the outpost soon converted the Confederate

volunteers into veterans.

Without intending any disparagement, I may say that the habits and

education of Northern men had not been such as to adapt them readily

to the cavalry service, without a process of drilling; while, on the

contrary, the Southern youth, who, like the ancient Persians, had been

taught from his cradle "to ride, to shoot, and speak the truth,"

leaped into his saddle, almost a cavalryman from his birth. The

Cossacks, who came from their native wilds on the Don to break the

power of Napoleon, had no other training in war than the habits of

nomadic life; and in the same school were bred the Parthian horsemen

who drove to despair the legions of Crassus and Antony.

I must also say that the Confederate authorities made but slight use

of the advantage they enjoyed in the early periods of the war, for

creating a fine body of cavalry; and that little wisdom was shown in

the use of what they did have. It would have been far better military

policy, during the first winter of the war, to have saved the cavalry

as McClellan did, either to lead the advance or cover the retreat in

the spring campaign. It was largely consumed in work which the

infantry might have done, without imposing much additional hardships

on them, as the proportion of cavalry was so small. When the Southern

army retired, in March, 1862, three-fourths of the horses had been

broken down by the hard work of the winter, and the men had been

furloughed to go home for fresh ones. The Confederate government did

not furnish horses for the cavalry, but paid the men forty cents a day

for the use of them. This vicious policy was the source of continual

depletion of the cavalry. Stuart's old regiment,--the First Virginia

Cavalry,--of which I was adjutant, with at least 800 men on its

muster-rolls, did not have 150 for duty on the morning we broke up

winter quarters on Bull Run. If the cavalry brigade had been cantoned

on the border, in the rich counties of Fauquier and Loudoun, the ranks

would have been full, and their granaries would not have been left as

forage for the enemy. The Confederate army fell back leisurely from

the front of Washington, and rested some weeks on the Rappahannock,

waiting the development of McClellan's plans. Stuart's cavalry was the

rear-guard. Sumner pushed forward with a division along the Orange and

Alexandria railroad, to make a demonstration and cover McClellan's

operations in another direction. He rather overdid the thing. On

reaching our picket line on Cedar Run, he made a grand display by

deploying his whole force in an open field. I happened to be on the

picket line that day, and told Col. Jones that it was only a feint to

deceive us. We retired, and the enemy occupied our camping-ground that

night.

The next morning Stuart was at Bealeton station; and our skirmishers

were engaged with the enemy, who was advancing towards the

Rappahannock. My own regiment had just taken position on the railroad,

when I rode up to Stuart, with whom I had become pretty well

acquainted. Since we had left the line of Bull Run, I had several

times returned on scouts for him. He said to me, "I want to find out

whether this is McClellan's army or only a feint." I replied, "I will

go and find out for you." I immediately started towards the rear of

the enemy's column with two or three men, and reached a point some

distance behind it about the time they were shelling our cavalry they

had driven over the river. I saw that the enemy was only making a

demonstration, and rode nearly all night to get back to Stuart. When I

got to the river, we came very near being shot by our own pickets, who

mistook us for the enemy. I found Stuart with Gen. Ewell, anxiously

waiting to hear from me, or for the enemy to cross the river.

I have not been so fortunate as to have a poet to do for me on this

occasion what Longfellow did for the midnight ride of Paul Revere.

There was a drizzling rain and a dense fog; it was impossible to see

what the enemy were doing. I remember Stuart's joy and surprise when I

told him that they were falling back from the river. In the rapture of

the moment he told me that I could get any reward I wanted for what I

had done. The only reward I asked was the opportunity to do the same

thing again.[23] In ten minutes the cavalry had crossed the river and

was capturing prisoners. Nothing had been left before us but a screen

of cavalry, which was quickly brushed away. It now became evident that

McClellan would move down the Potomac and operate against Richmond

from a new base and on another line. This was the first cavalry

reconnoissance that had ever been made to the rear of the enemy, and

was considered as something remarkable at that time; at a later period

they were very common. Soon after this, Stuart's cavalry was

transferred from the line of the Rappahannock with the rest of

Johnston's army, to confront McClellan on the Peninsula. I dined with

Gen. Lee at his headquarters, near Petersburg, about six weeks before

the surrender. He told me then that he had been opposed to Gen.

Johnston's withdrawing to the Peninsula, and had written to him while

he was on the Rapidan, advising him to move back towards the Potomac.

He thought that if he had done this, McClellan would have been

recalled to the defence of Washington. He further said that, instead

of falling back from Yorktown to Richmond, Gen. Johnston should have

made a stand with his whole army, instead of a part of it, on the

narrow isthmus at Williamsburg.

[23] See Stuart's report to Gen. Johnston.

Just before we reached Williamsburg, news came of the passage of the

conscription law, which preserved all the regimental organizations as

they were. The men were held in the ranks, but allowed to elect their

company officers; and these in turn elected field officers. It is hard

to reconcile democracy with military principles; and, consequently,

many of the best officers were dropped. Such was the fate of my

colonel. The staff officers, not being elected, were supposed to hold

over without reappointment. I immediately handed my resignation as

adjutant to the new colonel,--Fitz Lee,--_who accepted it_.

The conscription law at first produced some dissatisfaction among the

men, as most of them had served twelve months without a furlough; but

this soon subsided. All acquiesced in what was regarded as imperious

necessity. The loss of our positions in the First Virginia Cavalry

resulted in a benefit both to Jones and myself. Through the influence

of Stonewall Jackson, Jones was made a brigadier-general, and soon

after the death of Ashby was given the command of his brigade. Stuart

invited me to come to his headquarters and act as a scout for him. In

this way I began my career as a partisan, which now, when I recall it

through the mist of years, seems as unreal as the lives of the

Paladins.

I wish it to be understood that a scout is not a spy who goes in

disguise, but a soldier in arms and uniform who reconnoitres either

inside or outside an enemy's line. Such a life is full of adventure,

excitement, and romance. Stuart was not only an educated, but a

heaven-born soldier, whose natural genius had not been stifled by red

tape and the narrow rules of the schools.

The history of the war furnishes no better type of the American

soldier; as a chief of cavalry he is without a peer. He cared little

for formulas, and knew when to follow and when to disregard

precedents. He was the first to see that the European methods of

employing cavalry were not adapted to the conditions of modern war.[24]

His inventive genius discovered new ways of making cavalry useful,

that had never been dreamed of by the regular professors of the

science. I will now give some illustrations of his originality and the

fertility of his resources. When McClellan was lying in the swamps of

the Chickahominy, the infantry lines of the two armies were so close

together that cavalry operations in their front were impracticable.

One morning, when Stuart's headquarters were near Richmond, he invited

me to breakfast with him, and at the table asked me to take two or

three men and find out whether McClellan was fortifying on the

Totopotomoy Creek. I had been inactive for some time, and this was

just the opportunity I wanted. I started, but was diverted from the

route I had been directed to go by there being a flag of truce on the

road. I did not want to return without accomplishing something, so I

turned north and made a wide detour by Hanover Court House. Although I

was then engaged in the business of breaking idols, I had not lost all

reverence for antiquity. I stopped a while to muse in the old brick

building where Patrick Henry made his first speech at the bar, and

pleaded the cause of the people against the parsons. In order to

understand the enterprise on which I was going, a geographical

description of the country and situation of the armies is necessary.

The battle of Fair Oaks or Seven Pines had been fought, and the army

of the Potomac was lying on the Peninsula between the James and

Pamunkey rivers, and astraddle of the Chickahominy, which meanders

between them and finally empties into the James. McClellan's right

wing rested on the Pamunkey, with his base at the White House and his

line of supply by the York River Railroad. His left extended to within

a few miles of the James. The Totopotomoy Creek flows into the

Pamunkey. I got down in the enemy's lines on the Totopotomoy and

ascertained that six or eight miles of McClellan's front was a mere

shroud of cavalry pickets that covered his line of communication with

his depot at the White House. Of course, as he had no infantry on his

right there would be no fortifications there. The idea immediately

occurred to me that here was a grand opportunity for Stuart to strike

a blow. It is now clear why General Lee wanted to get information

about the enemy's fortifying the Totopotomoy.

[24] That infantry armed with repeating rifles and fixed

ammunition would have destroyed the squadrons of Murat at

Eylou and Mount Tabor before they ever got close enough to

use their sabres.

About three weeks after that he called Jackson from the valley, who

struck McClellan on this very ground. I was chased away from there and

came out just behind a regiment of Union cavalry going on a scout.

They very little thought that I was coming back so soon. I hastened to

Stuart's headquarters to give him the information. Everybody there was

in high glee. News had just come of Jackson's victories over Fremont

and Shields: Cross Keyes and Port Republic had been inscribed on his

banners. It was a hot day in June, and Stuart was sitting under the

shade of a tree, and I lay down on the grass to tell him what I had

learned. After giving him the information, I remarked, that as the

cavalry was idle, he could find on the Pamunkey something for them to

do. A blow on this weak point would greatly alarm McClellan for the

safety of his supplies, and compel him to detach heavily from his

front to guard them. After I got through, he said to me, "Write down

what you have told me." I went to his adjutant's office and wrote it

down hurriedly; but, not attaching much importance to it, did not sign

the writing. When I brought the paper to Stuart he had his horse ready

to mount. He called my attention to the omission, and I went back and

signed it. He started off at a gallop with a single courier to General

Lee's headquarters. He returned that afternoon, and orders were

immediately issued for a part of the cavalry to get ready to march.

General Lee's instructions to Stuart, directing, or rather

authorizing, the expedition, are dated June 11, which shows how soon

he started after my return, which was on the 10th.[25] With about 1200

cavalry and two pieces of artillery, on the morning of June 12, Stuart

left Richmond, moving in a northerly direction, to create the

impression that he was going to reinforce Jackson. That night we

bivouacked within a few miles of Hanover Court House. During his

absence his adjutant was left in charge of his headquarters. I was

present when he started. The adjutant asked him how long he would be

gone. Stuart's answer was, "It may be for years, and it may be

forever." Taking leave of his staff had suggested the parting from

Erin and Kathleen Mavourneen.

[25] Von Borcke, a Prussian on Stuart's staff, in his

"Memoirs," says that he and Stuart rode alone at night five

miles, inside the enemy's lines on the Chickahominy, to the

house of an Irishman, which Stuart had appointed as a

rendezvous to meet a spy. The spy not appearing, he says

that he and Stuart waited for him till daylight, and then

rode to his house, just as the reveille sounded in the

Yankee camps, only 400 paces distant. Such rides, he says,

were habitual with Stuart, and, of course, Von Borcke always

went with him. He adds: "The object of this excursion soon

appeared. Our cavalry force received orders to provide

themselves with rations for three days, and on the 12th we

commenced that ride round the army of McClellan which

attracted so much attention even in Europe." The Baron

Munchausen, who was a countryman of Von Borcke's, never

invented a purer fiction. Tradition says that King Alfred

went, disguised as a harper, into the court of the Danes; he

was, however, acting as a spy, and did not go to meet one.

There is not a soldier of the army of Northern Virginia who

does not know that neither Stuart nor any other Confederate

general ever did such a thing. Stuart employed scouts and

spies to get information for him; but they reported to him

at his headquarters; he never went either inside or outside

the enemy's lines to meet them.

There were many surmises as to his destination; but I never doubted

for a moment where we were going. Early the next morning Stuart sent

me on in advance with a few men to Hanover Court House, and I then saw

that my idea of a raid on McClellan's lines was about to be realized.

When we got within a few hundred yards of the village, a squadron of

cavalry was discovered there, and I sent a man back to inform Stuart

of it, so that he might send a regiment round to cut off their

retreat. He ordered the First Virginia Cavalry to go; but the enemy,

suspecting that there was a stronger force than they could see,

withdrew too soon to be caught.

The column then pushed rapidly towards the camp of Union cavalry at

Old Church. At that place Captain Royall was stationed with two

squadrons of the 5th U.S. regular cavalry. There was a running fight

of several miles with the pickets, and finally we met Captain Royall,

who came out with his whole command to reinforce the outpost. He had

no suspicion of the number he was attacking, and as soon as he came in

sight, Stuart ordered the front squadron of the 9th Virginia cavalry

to charge. Royall was wounded and routed. On our side, Captain Latané

was killed. We could not stay to give him even the hasty burial that

the hero received who died on the ramparts of Corunna. This was left

for female hands to do. The scene has been preserved on canvas by a

Virginia artist. As Royall's command had been scattered, we soon had

possession of his camp, and were feasting on the good things we found

in it. Nearly everybody forgot--many never knew--the danger we were

in. A mile or so on our left was an impassable river--not more than

six miles to the right were McClellan's headquarters, with Fitz John

Porter's corps and the reserve division of cavalry camped near us.

Here was the turning-point of the expedition. Stuart was as jolly as

anybody; but his head was always level in critical moments--even in

the midst of fun. There was a short conference between him and the

Lees, who were the colonels of the two Virginia regiments. I was

sitting on my horse, buckling on a pistol I had just captured, within

a few feet of them and heard all that passed. Stuart was for pushing

on to the York River Railroad, which was still nine miles off. Lee, of

the 9th (son of General R. E. Lee), was in favor of it, but Fitz Lee

was opposed. Stuart had no idea of turning back, and determined to go

on and strike McClellan in his rear. In the conception and execution

of this bold enterprise he showed the genius and the intrepid spirit

that took the plunge of the Rubicon.

Just as he gave the command, "Forward!" he turned to me, and said,

"Mosby, I want you to ride some distance ahead." I replied: "Very

well. But you must give me a guide; I don't know the road." He then

ordered two cavalrymen who were familiar with the country to go with

me; and I started on towards Tunstall's station. I was on a slow

horse; and I remember that I had not gone very far before Stuart sent

one of his staff to tell me to go faster and increase the distance

between us. It was important that we should reach the railroad before

dark, or reinforcements could be sent there. So I went on with my two

men at a trot.[26]

[26] Stuart's report contained recommendations of a number

who had been with him for promotion. He said: "Captains

W. D. Farley and J. S. Mosby, without commission, have

established a claim for position which a grateful country

will not, I trust, disregard. Their distinguished services

run far back towards the beginning of the war, and present a

shining record of daring and usefulness."

Stuart's biographer, without so intending, has made a statement which

if true would rob him of all the glory of the enterprise. He says that

after reaching Old Church, Stuart kept on because it was safer than to

go back by the route he had come. The road to Hanover Court House was

open; and it would not have been possible for the enemy to have closed

it against him for several hours. The fight with Royall was near his

camp, and did not last five minutes; it took only a few minutes to

destroy it. If he had intended to return by Hanover, he would have

left pickets behind him to keep the way open. But he did nothing of

the kind. He took no more account of his rear than Cortez did when he

burned his ships, and marched to the capital of the Aztec kings. The

route of the two squadrons of cavalry was, in itself, an insignificant

result as compared with the magnitude of the preparation. At this

point, he had simply broken through McClellan's picket line, but had

not gained his rear. To have returned after doing this and no more,

would have been very much like the labor of a mountain and the birth

of a mouse. The fight and capture of Royall's camp at Old Church

occurred about two o'clock P.M., on June 13. The nearest camps were

three or four miles off. Major Williams reports that he came on the

ground with 380 of the 6th cavalry at 3.30 P.M., about one hour after

the rear of Stuart's cavalry had passed on towards Tunstall's. This

one hour would of itself have been amply sufficient to allow Stuart's

return unmolested before the arrival of that force. It will hardly be

contended that 380 men of any cavalry the world ever saw could have

stopped Stuart with 1200 men and two pieces of artillery. The 5th U.S.

cavalry came on the ground about five o'clock; and Gen. Cook (who was

Stuart's father-in-law), with the rest of his cavalry division,

Warren's brigade of infantry, and a battery of artillery, reached

there after dark. It is very difficult, therefore, to see what there

was to prevent Stuart from returning if he had so desired. In all,

there were two brigades of cavalry, one of infantry, and a battery of

artillery sent in pursuit of him.

Gen. Emory, who led the advance, says that he followed on Stuart's

track, and reached Tunstall's at two o'clock that night, where he

found Gen. Reynolds, who had come up with a brigade of infantry on the

cars about twelve o'clock. Reynolds says that our rear guard had left

there about two hours before he arrived. At Tunstall's, Gen. Emory

says he lost Stuart's trail, and set every squadron he had to hunting

for it, and did not succeed in finding it until eight o'clock the next

morning. As Stuart had left Tunstall's on the plain country road on

which he had been marching all day, and on which Gen. Emory had

followed him, it seems strange that 1200 cavalry, with two pieces of

artillery, should have left no track behind them. Gen. Warren says

that "_the moon was shining brightly, making any kind of movement

for ourselves or the enemy as easy as in daylight_."

General Cook, with the rest of the cavalry, and infantry, and

artillery, arrived about 9 o'clock the next morning. General Emory

then moved forward in pursuit with infantry, cavalry, and artillery.

Warren says: "_It was impossible for the infantry to overtake him

[Stuart], and as the cavalry did not move without us, it was impossible

for them to overtake him._" And Fitz John Porter regrets, "_That

when General Cook did pursue he should have tied his legs with the

infantry command._" Perhaps General Cook was acting on the maxim

that recommends us to build a bridge of gold for a retreating foe. But

then it can hardly be said that Stuart was retreating. As there were

six cavalry regiments--including all the regulars--on our track, with

a battery of artillery, it is hard to see the use they had for

infantry, except as a brake to keep them from going too fast. The

pursuit was from beginning to end a comedy of errors. The infantry

could not have expected to overtake us, whereas, if we had attempted

to return by the same route we came, then they might have intercepted

us by remaining where they were.

Stuart was reduced to the alternative of returning home by the road

along the Pamunkey, or the one up James River. If he took the latter,

then a slight extension of McClellan's left flank would have barred

his way. It could hardly have been imagined that we were going down to

capture Fort Monroe, or that Stuart's cavalry were amphibious animals

that could cross the York and James rivers without pontoons. Only the

cavalry on McClellan's right was in the pursuit. He had an abundance

on his left to block our way, and they had twenty-four hours' notice

of our coming. Now to return to my narrative of Stuart's march. As I

was jogging along with my two companions, a mile or two ahead of the

column, I came upon a well-filled sutler's wagon at a cross-roads, of

which I took possession by right of discovery. At the same time, about

a mile off to my left, I could see the masts of several vessels riding

at anchor in the river. I sent one of the men back to tell Stuart to

hurry on. The sutler was too rich a prize to abandon, so I left the

other man in charge of him and his wagon and hurried on. Just as I

turned a bend of the road, I came plump upon another sutler, and a

cavalry vidette was by him. They were so shocked by the apparition

that they surrendered as quietly as the coon did to Captain Scott.

Tunstall's Station was now in full view a half a mile off. I was all

alone. Just then a bugle sounded. I saw about a squadron of cavalry

drawn up in line, near the railroad.[27] I knew that the head of our

column must be close by, and my horse was too tired to run, so I just

drew my sabre and waved it in the air. They knew from this that

support was near me. In a few seconds our advance guard under

Lieutenant Robbins appeared in sight, and the squadron in front of me

vanished from view. Robbins captured the depot with the guard without

firing a shot. Stuart soon rode up. Just then a train of cars came in

sight, and as we had no implements with which to pull up a rail, a

number of logs were put on the track. When the engineer got near us,

he saw that he was in a hornet's nest, and with a full head of steam

dashed on under a heavy fire, knocked the logs off the track, and

carried the news to the White House below. General Ingalls, who was in

command of the depot there, says that he had received a telegram from

General McClellan's headquarters, telling him of the attack on

Royall's camp and warning him of danger. As soon then as the telegraph

line was broken, which was about sunset on the 13th, it was notice to

McClellan that we were in his rear and on his line of communication.

[27] 11th Pennsylvania.

There was now but one route by which we could return, and that was up

James River. Yet he made no signs of a movement to prevent it, and the

only evidence that he knew of our presence is a telegram to Stanton on

the next day--dated 11 A.M., June 14th, saying that a body of cavalry

had passed around his right and that he had sent cavalry in pursuit to

punish them. Before reaching Tunstall's, Stuart sent a squadron to

burn the transports in the river and a wagon train that was loading

from them. The small guard fled at the approach of our cavalry, while

the schooners and wagons disappeared in smoke. As some evidence of the

consternation produced by this sudden irruption, I will mention the

fact, that after we left Old Church, a sergeant with twenty-five men

of the United States regular cavalry followed on under a flag of truce

and surrendered to our _rear-guard_. They supposed they were cut off

and surrounded. The Jeff Davis legion was the rear-guard, and these

were the only enemies they saw.

The despatch to Stanton shows the bewildered state of McClellan's

mind. At the time he was writing it we were lying on the banks of the

Chickahominy, building a bridge to cross on. To have caught us, it was

not necessary to pursue at all; all that he had to do was to spread

his wings. We halted at Tunstall's long enough for the column to close

up. Our march was slow, the artillery horses had broken down, and we

were encumbered with a large number of prisoners on foot, and of

course we could march no faster than they did. After dark the column

moved down through New Kent towards the Chickahominy. On the road were

large encampments of army wagons. Many a sutler was ruined that night;

with sad hearts they fell into line with the prisoners, and saw their

wagons, with their contents, vanish in flames. The heavens were lurid

with the light reflected from the burning trains, and our track was as

brilliant as the tail of a comet.

The Count of Paris, who was on McClellan's staff, thus describes

Stuart's march: "But night had come, and the fires kindled by his hand

flashing above the forest were so many signals which drew the Federals

on his track." Now, the Count of Paris evidently means that the

glowing sky ought to have been a guide to the Federal generals as the

pillar of fire was to Moses. As a fact, the only pursuers we saw were

those who came after us to surrender under a flag of truce. Stuart

halted three hours at Baltimore Store, only five miles from

Tunstall's. At twelve o'clock he started again for a ford of the

Chickahominy, which was eight miles distant, and reached it about

daylight.

That summer night was a carnival of fun I can never forget. Nobody

thought of danger or of sleep, when champagne bottles were bursting,

and Rhine wine was flowing in copious streams. All had perfect

confidence in their leader. In the riot among the sutlers' stores

"grim-visaged war had smoothed his wrinkled front," and Mars resigned

his sceptre to the jolly god. The discipline of soldiers for a while

gave way to the wild revelry of the crew of Comus. During all of this

time General Emory was a few miles off, at Tunstall's Station, hunting

our tracks in the sand with a lighted candle. Stuart had expected to

ford the Chickahominy; but when we got there, it was found overflowing

from the recent rains, and impassable. Up to this point our progress

had been as easy as the descent to Avernus; but now, to get over the

river, _hic labor_, _hic opus est_. He was fortunate in having two

guides, Christian and Frayser, who lived in the neighborhood, and knew

all the roads and fords on the river. Christian knew of a bridge, or

rather, where a bridge had been, about a mile below the ford, and the

column was immediately headed for it. But it had been destroyed, and

nothing was left but some of the piles standing in the water. He was

again fortunate in having two men, Burke and Hagan, who knew something

about bridge-building. Near by were the remains of an old warehouse,

out of which they built a bridge. It was marvellous with what rapidity

the structure grew; in a few hours it was finished--it seemed almost

by magic. It was not as good a bridge as Cæsar threw over the Rhine,

but it was good enough for our purpose. While the men were at work

upon it, Stuart was lying down on the bank of the stream, in the

gayest humor I ever saw him, laughing at the prank he had played on

McClellan.

As I was a believer in the Napoleonic maxim of making war support

war, I had foraged extensively during the night, and from the

sutlers' stores spread a feast that Epicurus might have envied.

During all the long hours that we lay on the bank of the river waiting

for the bridge, no enemy appeared in sight. That was a mystery nobody

could understand. There was some apprehension that McClellan was

allowing us to cross over in order to entrap us in the forks of

the Chickahominy. When, at last, about two o'clock, the cavalry,

artillery, prisoners and captured horses and mules were all over, and

fire had been set to the bridge, some of Rush's lancers came on a hill

and took a farewell look at us. They came, and saw, and went away,

taking as their only trophy a drunken Dutchman we had left on the

road. General Emory received news of the crossing eight miles off at

Baltimore Store. Our escape over the river was immediately reported to

him. In his official report, he says that we crossed the Chickahominy

at daylight and that we left faster than we came. Now, I am unable to

see the evidence of any particular haste in the march: in fact, it

seems to have been conducted very leisurely. About one o'clock

P.M., on the 13th, we captured Royall's camp at Old Church; about

sunset we reached Tunstall's, nine miles distant, and at daylight on

the 14th got to a point on the Chickahominy twelve miles from there,

where we stayed until noon. So if we had been pursued at the rate of a

mile an hour, we would have been overtaken.

But the danger was not over when we were over the Chickahominy. We

were still thirty-five miles from Richmond and in the rear of

McClellan's army, which was five or six miles above us. It was

necessary to pass through swamps where the horses sunk to their saddle

girths, and when we emerged from these, we had to go for twenty miles

on a road in full view of the enemy's gunboats on one side of us in

the James River, and McClellan's army within a few miles on the other.

Nothing would have been easier than for him to have thrown a division

of infantry as well as cavalry across our path. Then nothing could

have saved us except such a miracle as destroyed Pharaoh and his host.

Stuart, apprehending a movement on McClellan's left, had sent a

messenger early in the morning to General Lee requesting him to make a

diversion in his favor. But we were out of danger before he had time

to do it. After getting through the swamp the command halted in

Charles City for several hours to give rest to the men and horses.

Stuart then turned over the command to Fitz Lee, as we were then in

comparative safety, and with two men rode on to General Lee's

headquarters, which he reached about daybreak the next morning. During

the night march I was in advance of the column, but saw nothing in the

path except occasionally a negro who would dart across it going into

the Union lines. Early in the morning, just as I got in sight of

Richmond, I met Stuart returning to the command. Although he had been

in the saddle two days and nights without sleep, he was as gay as a

lark and showed no signs of weariness. He had a right to be proud;

for he had performed a feat that to this day has no parallel in the

annals of war. I said to him, "This will make you a major-general." He

said, "No, I don't think I can be a major-general until we have 10,000

cavalry." But in six weeks he had that rank.

This expedition, in which Stuart had ridden around McClellan in a

circle of a radius of ten miles, created almost as much astonishment

in Richmond and even in Europe as if he had dropped from the clouds,

and made him the hero of the army. It had an electric effect on the

_morale_ of the Confederate troops and excited their enthusiasm to a

high pitch. Always after that the sight of Stuart on the field was

like

A blast of that dread horn

On Fontarabian echoes borne.

McClellan attempts in his report to belittle it, by saying that in

this affair Stuart's cavalry did nothing but gain a little _éclat_;

but with more truth it might be said that by it he lost a good deal.

His staff officer, the Count of Paris, says, in reference to these

operations of our cavalry: "They had, in point of fact, created a

great commotion, shaken the confidence of the North in McClellan, and

made the first experiment in those great cavalry expeditions which

subsequently played so novel and so important a part during the war."

At midnight, on June 14, at the very hour when we were marching along

his left flank, McClellan telegraphed to Stanton, "All quiet in every

direction; the stampede of last night has passed away." In his

telegram six hours before, he had said that we ran away from an

infantry force, at Tunstall's, that he had sent after us. The fact was

that we left that place long before the infantry arrived there, and

never heard of it until long after we left. Gen. Reynolds says he

never saw us. The stampede that McClellan talks about was not in

_our_ ranks. The Count of Paris again says: "As soon as he [Stuart]

was known to be at Tunstall's, McClellan had divined his purpose, and

despatched Averill to intercept him."

I have made a diligent examination of the archives of the war, but

have been unable to find any authority for this statement. The

despatches of the general-in-chief, the corps, division, brigade, and

regimental commanders, in reference to this _raid_, have all been

published, besides the report of Col. Clitz, who was ordered to

investigate the conduct of those who were charged with the pursuit.

They all relate to the operations on McClellan's right, and there is

perfect silence as to any attempt to intercept us on his left, or any

order to do so. Averill, who was stationed with the cavalry on the

left flank, is nowhere mentioned, and there is no report from him.

After we crossed the Chickahominy we were in a _cul de sac_, formed by

the junction of that river with the James. Yet we never saw an enemy

in that vicinity, although they must or ought to have had twenty-four

hours' notice that we were coming, as the army headquarters were

connected with each corps by both telegraph lines and signal stations.

As McClellan was very much criticised for permitting Stuart to escape,

if it had been due to the failure of Averill or any one else to

execute his orders, he would have put the blame where it belonged.

McClellan's conduct on this occasion has always been unaccountable to

me, and the only explanation I have ever seen of it is in the report

of Gen. Pleasanton, who soon after that became his chief of cavalry.

Pleasanton says: "McClellan dreaded the rebel cavalry, and supposed

that by placing his army on a peninsula, with a deep river on each

side, he was safe from that arm of the enemy; but the humiliation on

the Chickahominy, of having a few thousand of the enemy's cavalry ride

completely around his army, and the ignominious retreat to Harrison's

Landing, are additional instances in support of the maxim 'that a

general who disregards the rules of war finds himself overwhelmed by

the consequences of such neglect, when the crisis of battle

follows.'"[28]

[28] This was written by Pleasanton after the war. He does

not seem to have felt the humiliation of Stuart's ride

around him to Chambersburg, when he, as chief of cavalry of

the army of the Potomac, was charged with the duty of

pursuing him.

At that time Pleasanton was commanding the 2d U.S. Cavalry. The

telegraph line at Tunstall's was repaired soon after Reynolds arrived,

on the night of the 13th; and it is impossible to believe that he and

Ingalls did not inform the general-in-chief which way we had gone.

Stuart then had no choice of routes, but was confined to the road up

James River, or not to return at all. This raid is unique, and

distinguished from all others on either side during the war, on

account of the narrow limits in which the cavalry was compelled to

operate. From the time when he broke through McClellan's line on his

right until he had passed around him on his left Stuart was enclosed

by three unfordable rivers, over one of which he had to build a bridge

to cross. During the whole operation the cavalry never drew a sabre

except at the first picket post they encountered. But it was something

more than a mere raid on McClellan's communications; it was, in fact,

a _reconnoissance_ in force to ascertain the exact location of the

different corps of his army, and the prelude to the great battles that

began ten days afterwards, in which Jackson's flank was covered by

Stuart's cavalry.[29]

[29] General Lee's congratulatory order is as follows:

HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF NORTHERN VA.,

_General Orders, No. 74_. June 23, 1862.

The commanding general announces with great satisfaction

to the army the brilliant exploit of Brigadier-General

J. E. B. Stuart, with part of the troops under his

command. This gallant officer, with portions of the 1st,

4th, and 9th Virginia Cavalry, a part of the Jeff Davis

Legion, with whom were the Boykin Rangers, and a section

of the Stuart Horse Artillery, on the 13th, 14th, and

15th of June, made a reconnoissance between the Pamunkey

and the Chickahominy rivers, and succeeded in passing

around the rear of the whole of the Union army, routing

the enemy in a series of skirmishes, taking a number of

prisoners, and destroying and capturing stores to a

large amount. Having most successfully accomplished its

object, the expedition recrossed the Chickahominy almost

in the presence of the enemy, with the same coolness and

address that marked every step of its progress, and with

the loss of but one man, the lamented Latané, of

the 9th Virginia Cavalry, who fell bravely leading a

successful charge against a superior force of the enemy.

In announcing the signal success to the army, the

general commanding takes great pleasure in expressing

his admiration of the courage and skill so conspicuously

exhibited throughout by the general and the officers and

men under his command. In addition to the officers

honorably mentioned in the report of the expedition, the

conduct of the following privates has received the

special commendation of their respective commanders:

Private Thomas D. Clapp, Co. D, 1st Virginia Cavalry,

and J. S. Mosby, serving in the same regiment; privates

Ashton, Brent, R. Herring, F. Herring, and F. Coleman,

Co. E, 9th Virginia Cavalry.

By command of

R. H. CHIETON, A.A.G. GENERAL LEE.

In General McClellan's posthumous book there is a private

letter of his, dated June 15th, 10.45 P.M., in which he

says: "I then gave orders to Averill for a surprise party

to-morrow, to repay Secesh for his raid of day before

yesterday." So the surprise party was not ordered until

Stuart had got back to camp.

The seven days' battles were fought behind intrenchments, and in

swamps which afforded no opportunity for the use of cavalry except in

guarding the flanks of the infantry and the minor operations of

outpost duty. When they were over, the cavalry had a short respite

from labor. I never could rest inactive; and so I asked Stuart to let

me take a party of men to northern Virginia.

Gen. Pope had then just assumed command of that department. He had a

long line of communications to guard; and his scattered army corps

offered fine opportunities for partisan war. The wiser policy of

concentration had not then been adopted by the Federal generals.

Stuart was recruiting his cavalry, and was not willing to spare any

for detached service; but gave me a letter of introduction to Gen.

Jackson, who had been sent up to Gordonsville to observe Pope. He sent

him by me a copy of Napoleon's maxims, which had just been published

in Richmond. Stuart wanted Jackson to furnish a detail of cavalry to

go with me behind Pope, who had just published the fact to the world

that he intended to leave his rear to take care of itself. With a

single companion, and full of enthusiasm, I started on my mission to

Jackson. I concluded to take the cars at Beaver Dam and go on in

advance to his headquarters and wait there for my horse to be led on.

I was sitting in the depot, and my companion had hardly got out of

sight, when a regiment of Union cavalry rode up, and put an attachment

upon my person. They had ridden all night from Fredericksburg to

capture the train which was due in a few minutes. I was chagrined, not

only at being a prisoner, but because my cherished hopes were now

disappointed. The regiment fronted into a line to wait for the cars;

and they placed me in the front rank. I called to an officer, and

protested against being put where I would be shot by the guard on the

train. For some reason, the commanding officer gave orders to leave;

perhaps it was because he was as much opposed to being shot as I was.

The train soon afterwards arrived; and I do not think there were any

soldiers on it. That night, I slept on the floor of the guard-house at

Fredericksburg; on the next day the _cartel_ for the exchange of

prisoners was agreed on. My imprisonment lasted ten days; and I

confess that I rather enjoyed my visit to Washington. I kept up my

habits as a scout, and collected a large budget of information. The

steamer on which I came back lay four days in Hampton Roads, and then

proceeded up James River. When we first arrived there I noticed a

large number of transports, with troops on board, lying near Newport

News, and learned that they belonged to Burnside's corps just arrived

from North Carolina. Here, now, was a problem for me to solve. Where

were they going? to reinforce Pope or McClellan? I set about to find

out. If they went to Pope it meant the withdrawal of McClellan. The

captain of the steamer promised me to find out their destination. A

few hours before we left, I observed them all coming down and passing

out by Fort Monroe. When the captain returned from on shore, he told

me that the transports were going up the Potomac. This settled the

question; the Peninsula campaign was over.

About ten o'clock in the morning we reached the point on James River

where the commissioners had met. I knew that it would take several

hours to complete the exchange and every minute then was precious. I

whispered to the Confederate commissioner--Judge Culd--that I had

important news for General Lee and he let me go immediately. I started

off with a haversack full of lemons I had bought at Fort Monroe to

walk twelve miles to headquarters on a hot day in August. I trudged on

several hours weary and footsore, until completely exhausted I had

fallen down on the roadside. While lying there a horseman of the

Hampton Legion came riding by, and I stopped him and explained my

condition and anxiety to see General Lee. He dismounted, put me on his

horse, took me to his camp near by, and, getting a horse for himself,

went with me to the general's headquarters. I wish that I knew his

name that I might record it with the praise that is due to his

generous deed. The first one I met at headquarters, with a good deal

of the insolence of office, told me that I could not see the general.

I tried to explain that I did not come to ask a favor, but to bring

him important information. Another one of the staff standing by told

me to wait a moment. He stepped into the adjoining room and soon

called me in. I now found myself for the first time in the presence of

the great commander of the Army of Northern Virginia. He was alone and

poring over some maps on the table, and no doubt planning a new

campaign. Although his manner was gentle and kind, I felt for him an

awe and veneration which I have never felt for any other man. He was

then the foremost man in all the world, and I almost imagined that

I saw one of the Homeric heroes before me. With some embarrassment

I told what I had learned about Burnside's troops. He listened

attentively, and after I was through called to a staff officer to have

a man ready to take a despatch to General Jackson. At that time

communication was kept up between them by a line of relay couriers.

They were afraid to trust the telegraph that had been tampered with by

raiding parties from Fredericksburg. Jackson received the despatch

that night informing him that Burnside was on his way to Pope, and

hastened to strike him at Cedar Mountain before reinforcements could

arrive. Pope says, "This battle was fought at a distance of more

than one hundred miles from Richmond, only five days after General

McClellan received his orders to withdraw and five days before he had

commenced to do so, or had embarked a man." When the Army of the

Potomac was being withdrawn from the front of Richmond, Gen. Lee began

to transfer his own to the line of the Rapidan. Stuart, with his

staff, came ahead by rail and left Fitz Lee to bring on the cavalry

division. I joined him on the evening of August 17th, and that night

we rode to a place called Vidiersville in Orange County, where we

expected to find the cavalry. It had not, however, come up, and Stuart

sent his adjutant to look for it, and the rest of us--five in

number--unsaddled our horses and lay down to sleep on the porch of a

house by the roadside. We were outside our picket lines and in a mile

or so of the enemy on the river, but did not think there was much risk

in spending the night there.

About sunrise the next morning a young man named Gibson, who had been

a fellow-prisoner with me in the Old Capitol, woke me up and said that

he heard the tramp of cavalry down the road. We saddled quickly, and

started to see what it was, but first woke Stuart up. As Fitz Lee was

due, we supposed it was our own cavalry, but there was a chance that

it might be the enemy, and we did not want to be again caught napping.

After going about two hundred yards, we saw through the morning mist a

body of cavalry that had stopped at a house to search it. We halted,

but could not tell who they were. Presently two officers rode forward

and began firing on us. This convinced me that they were no friends of

mine, and as neither one of us had a pistol or a sabre, I am not

ashamed to say that we turned and ran away with the Yankee cavalry

close after us. The firing saved Stuart. He had walked out into the

yard bareheaded, and when he heard it, mounted his horse and leaped

over the fence, and escaped through the back yard with one of his

aides just as Gibson and I passed by at full speed. The cavalry

stopped the pursuit to pick up Stuart's hat and cloak and the nice

patent-leather haversack I had brought from Washington, which we had

left on the porch. It was a scouting party General Pope had sent out.

They had caught Stuart's adjutant during the night and found on him a

letter from General Lee, disclosing the fact that he would cross the

river to attack Pope on the 20th. So Pope, on the 18th, issued orders

to withdraw beyond the line of the Rappahannock; he had already

received information through a spy that our whole army was assembling

in his front and was about retreating anyway. If the cavalry had not

stopped at the house they would have caught us all asleep.

Von Borcke, a Prussian officer on Stuart's staff, who published a mass

of fables, under the title of "Memoirs of the Confederate War," gives

an account of this affair, in which he represents himself as playing a

most heroic part. As Gibson and I were between him and the enemy, and

running with all our might, it is hard to discover any heroism in

anybody. Von Borcke's horse ran faster than ours, and that was the

only distinction he won. The chase was soon over, and we returned

immediately to look over the ground. Just as Stuart got in sight of

the house, he saw the enemy going off in triumph with his hat and

cloak. In two days the armies were again confronting each other on the

Rappahannock; on the morning of the 22d the Confederate column began a

movement up the river to turn Pope's right. Jackson's corps was just

in rear of the cavalry. When we got to Waterloo bridge, where we

crossed, Stuart galloped by, and said to me, laughing, as he passed,

"I am going after my hat." I had no idea then that what he said would

come true. He had heard that Pope had his wagon trains parked at

Catlett's, on the Orange and Alexandria Railroad, and was going after

them. Pope's headquarters were ten or twelve miles distant, at

Rappahannock Station. Stuart had with him about 1500 cavalry and two

pieces of artillery. We passed around to Pope's rear unobserved, and

got to Catlett's just after dark. A picket post on the road was

captured without any alarm, and the guards with the trains had no

suspicion of our presence until we rode into their camp. General Pope

unjustly censures them. Considering the surprise, I think they did

remarkably well. It was no fault of theirs that Stuart had got to the

rear of their army without being discovered. It was the duty of their

cavalry on the front to watch him, and tell them he was coming.

Fortunately for Pope, the most terrific storm I ever saw came up

before we reached Catlett's. But for that, nearly the whole of the

transportation of his army would have been destroyed. The night was

pitch dark and the rain fell in torrents. Flashes of lightning would

often illuminate the scene, and peals of thunder seemed to roll from

pole to pole. Stuart halted about half a mile from the station, and

sent the First and Fifth Virginia cavalry to destroy a large park of

wagons whose camp-fires could be seen. I went along with my old

regiment. We had to cross a railroad embankment and a ditch, of which

the men knew nothing until they tumbled into it. Most of them

scrambled out, and got into the camp on the other side. It was

defended by the Bucktails, who, under cover of the wagons and the

darkness, poured a hot fire into us. All that we could see was the

flashes from their guns. The animals became frightened, and increased

the noise and confusion of the fight. The shooting and shouting of the

men, the braying of the mules, the glare of the lightning and roll of

the thunder, made it seem like all Pandemonium had broken loose.

But cavalry, in a fight against invisible infantry, is defenceless. We

left the camp with little or no damage to ourselves or the enemy.

Other detachments were more successful in burning wagons and making

captures. A party was sent to burn the railroad bridge over Cedar Run;

but in such a storm they might just as well have tried to burn the

creek. It happened that not far from Catlett's we met a negro in the

road, who recognized Stuart as an old acquaintance, and offered to

conduct him to Pope's headquarter wagons. The Ninth Virginia cavalry

was sent with the guide after them. A festive party of quartermasters

and commissaries was captured there, together with Pope's money-chest,

despatch book, and correspondence, and also his wardrobe, including

_his hat_ and ostrich plume. Stuart was now revenged--he had swapped

hats with Pope.

The material results of the expedition were not what had been

expected. The storm of that night--which caused a rise of six feet in

the river--was the salvation of Pope. The _raid_ had, however, a

demoralizing effect on the army whose communication had been so

audaciously assailed. Von Borcke, as usual, relates prodigies he

performed that were never surpassed by Amadis of Gaul. He says that he

was detailed by Stuart to capture Pope, and tells how he entered his

tent shortly after he had left. Now Pope had never been on the spot;

his headquarters were then fifteen miles from there; and Stuart knew

that a general commanding an army does not sleep with his wagon

trains. We returned the next morning by the same route we came, but

never saw an enemy. It would be a natural question to ask--what was

Pope doing with his cavalry? In the storm and darkness we had failed

to cut the telegraph wire, so Pope kept up communication with

Washington. At five o'clock P.M. that day--when Stuart's cavalry was

in the rear and within a few miles of Catlett's, he told Halleck,

"_The enemy has made no attempt to-day to cross the river._" At

nine o'clock that night, when we were plundering his headquarter

trains, he tells Halleck a heavy force had crossed the river that day,

and asked him to send up a brigade to guard the bridge over Cedar Run.

But for the providential rain the bridge would have then been burning,

and Halleck would have been saved the trouble of sending infantry to

protect it. Pope had no idea where we were. Fifteen minutes later, he

tells Halleck, that he must either fall back behind Cedar Run, or

cross the Rappahannock at daybreak the next morning and assail the

rear of the Confederate army. Halleck advised the latter movement.

Pope said the rise of the river that night that swept away his bridges

prevented his crossing. Here Providence stepped in again and saved

him. If the "stars in their courses fought against Sisera," so did the

floods against Robert E. Lee in this campaign.

At that time Jackson and Longstreet were in front of Pope, and Stuart

was behind him. A week after this he was defeated, when we were no

stronger and he had received at least 25,000 reinforcements from

McClellan. But General Pope had left out an important factor in his

calculation,--and that was Stonewall Jackson. He had already thrown

one of his brigades over the river at Sulphur Springs, but the storm

arrested the passage of the others. If General Pope had attempted such

a movement as he indicated to Halleck, General Lee would not have

interfered with it but let him go on. Jackson and Stuart would then

have swept down the north bank of the river in his rear, and General

Pope would have found himself in the condition of a fly in an

exhausted receiver. This would have saved Jackson the long flank march

he afterwards made to Manassas without involving his separation from

Longstreet. Speaking of the raid on Catlett's, General Pope says: "At

the time this cavalry force attacked Catlett's--and it certainly was

not more than three hundred strong--our whole army trains were parked

at that place, and were guarded by not less than 1500 infantry and

five companies of cavalry. The success of this small party of the

enemy, although very trifling and attended with but very little

damage, was most _disgraceful_ to the force that had been left in

charge of the trains." It was certainly not the fault of the troops

guarding the trains that they had no notice that we were coming; and I

think he has greatly exaggerated their number.

On the 25th, Jackson, having gone higher up the river, crossed the

Rappahannock four miles above Waterloo Bridge, which was held by

Sigel's Corps and Buford's Cavalry. The Black Horse Company[30] acted

as his escort, and the Second Virginia Cavalry led the advance. The

signal stations near the rivers reported this movement immediately to

Gen. Pope. An officer in the army under Pope, who had been a classmate

of Jackson's at West Point, thus speaks of the great hero and his

wonderful march: "In that devotion which men yield to monarchs of the

battle-field; in that glow of pride which men share with the great

chieftain whose powers have created chances and directed results,--the

soldier subjects under Napoleon Bonaparte were closely allied in

enthusiasm, in worship, and in admiration with the soldier citizens

under Stonewall Jackson."...

[30] Commanded by Capt. A. D. Payne.

"The sun sank down; the stars appeared; the night sped on till nearly

twelve, when Jackson's advance had approached within one mile of

Salem, where, as his weary column sank down to rest, McDowell received

the message that Pope believed the enemy was marching for the

_Shenandoah Valley by way of Front Royal and Luray_."

On the mathematical principle that parallel lines meet in infinity,

Jackson might have reached the valley by the route he had travelled.

His camp that night was in Pope's rear, and in twelve miles of

McDowell, who was occupying Warrenton. But Gen. Pope was bewildered,

and appeared to have no suspicion of where he was going. At daylight

no reveille sounded in the Confederate camps; but Jackson moved

silently on, and turned to the east. After his column had passed

out of sight of the signal stations, Gen. Pope seemed to lose

entirely the touch of it; but the "lost Pleiad" kept on its way.

A competent general would have struck Jackson's flank with a cavalry

reconnoissance on his first day's march. I do not know whether the

failure to do so was the fault of the chief of cavalry or the

commander-in-chief.

On the 26th, before daylight, Stuart's cavalry corps crossed the

Rappahannock and followed the route Jackson had taken the day before,

until it got to Salem, and then turned to the right. About four

o'clock P.M., we overtook Gen. Jackson at Gainesville; having

marched all day around the flank and rear of the Federal army without

seeing an enemy. We were now within about seven miles of Manassas

Junction. On the same day, Longstreet followed on Jackson's track.

While all this was going on in his rear, Gen. Pope's attention had

been attracted by some Confederate batteries that kept up a fire in

his front. His army remained motionless. Its very tranquillity at last

became oppressive; some feared that it was the awful stillness that

precedes the storm; that he was imitating Napoleon at Austerlitz, and

allowing one wing of our army to be extended in order to pierce its

centre and destroy it. About six o'clock on the afternoon of the 26th,

the advance of Jackson's column, under Col. Munford, struck the Orange

& Alexandria Railroad at Bristoe Station, nine miles from Pope's

headquarters, which were at Warrenton Junction. The small guard was

surprised and captured; they had no more expectation of seeing

Stonewall Jackson than Hamlet's ghost. Just then a train came up, and

ran the gauntlet under fire, that carried the astounding news to

Manassas, five miles off. From there it was telegraphed to Washington.

Two more trains came along in a few minutes, that had just left

headquarters, and were caught. Stuart was then sent on with a force of

infantry and cavalry to capture Manassas, which, with all its immense

stores, fell into his hands. Twenty thousand Confederate troops were

now behind Gen. Pope; and Longstreet was marching around his flank;

but his army still faced the other way. As Gen. Jackson says, "My

command was now in the rear of Gen. Pope's army, separating it from

the Federal capital and base of supplies."

This march of Jackson's I regard as one of the most wonderful things

ever achieved in war. Gen. Pope says that it "was plainly seen and

promptly reported to Gen. Halleck," but that so confidently did he

rely on troops promised from Washington being in position to oppose

Jackson that it gave him no uneasiness. That it gave Gen. Pope no

uneasiness, I think is due to the fact that _he knew nothing about

it_. It certainly would have given Napoleon or Wellington a good

deal of uneasiness to have had Stonewall Jackson with 20,000 men in

his rear and in nine miles of his headquarters. Now, it seems to me

that his knowledge of what Jackson was doing cannot be reconciled with

fidelity to his government, and his contemporaneous despatches and

conduct. _They_ can only be explained on the theory of his ignorance

of the movement, or his _co-operation_ with Jackson. The night before

he had told McDowell that he believed the Confederate troops had gone

to the Shenandoah valley. Jackson, I know, did marvellous things; but

Gen. Pope could hardly have thought he could march an army east and

west at the same time. If he knew that Jackson was going to Manassas,

he could not have believed that he had gone to the valley. Admitting

that he thought Franklin's corps was at Manassas to meet him, he would

be a curious commander-in-chief not to inquire if it was or not to

give his subordinate warning of the enemy's approach, in order that he

might get ready to fight, or burn his stores and run away. If he had

even called the telegraph operators at Bristoe and Manassas, they

could have told him that there were just enough troops there to get

caught, and that they knew nothing of Jackson's coming. He tells

McDowell, _after_ Jackson got to Bristoe, that the enemy's cavalry

have interrupted communication with Manassas, and orders a single

regiment to go down on the cars to repair the damage. Did he think one

regiment could drive Stonewall Jackson away?

The next morning Halleck sends up a brigade to Manassas, that was

almost annihilated,--its commander killed, and the train captured on

which they came. If Halleck had known he was sending them into the

jaws of death, he would have incurred a criminal responsibility. All

of General Pope's orders and despatches at the time have been

published; there is not a hint in any of them that he knew of

Jackson's movement around him. The first time he suspected it was when

the telegraph wire was cut, and he had to stop talking with Halleck.

Three hours after that, McDowell telegraphs to Pope that an

_intelligent_ negro had just come in and reported that Jackson

had passed through Thoroughfare Gap that day. Pope's answer shows that

this news was a revelation and a surprise to him.

At that time Jackson's men, after a march of over fifty miles in two

days, were eating his rations in sight of the blazing bridges and

railroad trains at Manassas. The next day a cavalry reconnoissance

under Buford was ordered to Salem, to ascertain the truth of the

negro's statement. If it had been sent two days earlier it might have

done some good. But Pope did not wait to hear from Buford, but changed

front and hastened towards Manassas to recover his communications.

Buford returned with his broken-down cavalry to Warrenton that night,

but Pope's whole army had gone. During that day Jackson's wearied

soldiers were resting and refreshing themselves from their abundant

spoils. At night Jackson marched away towards Thoroughfare to unite

with Longstreet. The supplies that he could not transport were burned.

Pope's army with the railroad broken was now in a starving

condition.[31] To lead Pope astray, A. P. Hill's division was sent a

roundabout way by Centreville and rejoined Jackson the next day at

Sudley.

[31] See his despatch to Halleck.

The reason that Jackson left Manassas was that Stuart had captured a

despatch showing that Pope was concentrating his army on that point.

General Jackson says: "General Stuart kept me advised of the movements

of the enemy." In a despatch to Fitz John Porter on the evening of the

27th, Pope ordered him to be at Bristoe at daylight the next morning

to bag Jackson who was then five miles off. General Pope says that

Jackson made a mistake in leaving Manassas before he got there. If

Jackson went there to be caught it was. If Pope had reached the place

at daylight he would have found nothing but a rear-guard of Stuart's

cavalry. He has censured Porter for not getting there in time to bag

Jackson. Pope himself arrived about noon. It happened that the evening

before I rode off to a farmer's house to get some supper and slept

under a tree in the yard. The next morning I returned to the Junction

thinking our army was still there. I found the place deserted and as

silent as the cities of the plain. So, if General Pope and Fitz John

Porter had come at that time they might have caught _me_, that is, if

their horses were faster than mine. Pope was deceived by Jackson's

stratagem and marched off to Centreville to find him. Every step he

took in that direction carried him farther from Jackson. He seemed to

be groping in the dark. Instead of marching his infantry off in the

morning on a fool's errand to Manassas in search of Jackson he ought

first to have felt the enemy with his cavalry, and then manoeuvred his

army so as to intercept his junction with Longstreet. Pope did exactly

the reverse.

On the evening of the 28th, Longstreet drove Ricketts' division from

Thoroughfare and the head of his column bivouacked in about six miles

of Jackson. During the fight I rode with Stuart towards the Gap.

As Ricketts was then between him and Longstreet, Stuart sent a

despatch by a trusty messenger urging him to press on to the support

of Jackson.

I do not think any other commander ever performed such a feat, or

extricated himself from such perils as environed Jackson on this

expedition. His success was largely due to Stuart's cavalry, who were

the eyes of the army, that brought him quick intelligence of the

enemy, and as the Count of Paris says, "screened all Jackson's

movements as with an impenetrable veil." On the morning of the 29th,

in a despatch to Porter and McDowell, Gen. Pope says: "The indications

are that the whole force of the enemy is moving in this direction at

a pace that will bring them here by _to-morrow_ night or _next_

morning." His cavalry could not then have informed him of the result

of the combat between Longstreet and Ricketts on the afternoon before;

for it was impossible for him to believe that the man who was called

the war-horse of the Southern Army would take two days to march six

miles with the thunders of battle rolling in his ears. General Pope

does not seem to have recovered his mental equilibrium when he wrote

his report, for he says, in one place, "Every indication during the

night of the 29th and up to 10 o'clock on the morning of the 30th

pointed to the _retreat_ of the enemy from our front;" and further on

he says, "During the whole night of the 29th and the morning of the

30th the _advance_ of the main army under Lee was arriving on the

field to reinforce Jackson." That is, the arrival of 30,000 fresh

Confederate troops on the field was a sign to Gen. Pope that they were

running away.

No one can study this campaign without being struck by the marked

difference between the commanders of the two armies in the employment

of their cavalry. A distinguished general who served under Pope says:

"That judicious use of cavalry by which Jackson covered his front,

concealed his movements, discovered his enemies, and succeeded in his

raids, had not at that period been generally appreciated by Federal

commanders, and was almost entirely neglected by Pope."

I cannot close this account of the part borne by Stuart's cavalry in

this campaign without some reference to the use that has been made of

his report of it by the partisans of General Pope, and the criticism

it has borne from the friends of General Porter. It is remarkable that

both parties should agree in the construction put upon it, and that so

clearly a wrong one. One side refers to it to prove the assertion of

General Pope: "I believe--in fact I am positive--that at five o'clock

on the afternoon of the 29th General Porter had in his front no

considerable body of the enemy. I believed then--as I am very sure

now--that it was easily practicable for him to have turned the right

flank of Jackson and to have fallen on his rear: and if he had done

so, we should have gained a decisive victory over the army under

Jackson before he could have been joined by any of the forces of

Longstreet," etc. He further says that about sunset of the 29th the

advance of Longstreet began to arrive on the field. The essence of the

controversy is the time of Longstreet's arrival. Could Porter have

reached Gainesville, the objective point on which he and Longstreet

marched that day, in time to have executed the order of 4.30 P.M.

of the 29th to turn the Confederate flank? While the order does not

specify Jackson's, but says the enemy's flank, it clearly referred to

Jackson, for General Pope asserted that Longstreet was not then on

the field and could not arrive before the next day. As Porter and

Longstreet had camped the night before about the same distance from

that place, and as Porter,[32] owing to contradictory orders, had

marched twice the distance that Longstreet did, the presumption is

that the latter arrived there first.

[32] Porter's corps camped at Bristoe the night of the 28th.

About 6 o'clock on the morning of the 29th he was ordered by

Pope to Centreville. When he got near Bull Run he was

ordered to countermarch to Gainesville.

To my mind Stuart is a conclusive witness for Porter. Yet one critic

(General Cox) argues that there was no obstruction but Stuart's

cavalry between Porter and Jackson, and an author of a defence of

Porter (General George H. Gordon) calls his report a romance. Stuart

says that General Lee arrived at Gainesville on the morning of the

29th with Longstreet's corps; that he passed his cavalry through

Longstreet's column and placed it on his flank; that during the day

his videttes reported the approach of Porter's corps; and that he sent

notice of it to General Lee, who ordered infantry and artillery to his

support. He adds that in the mean time he kept his cavalry dragging

brush to raise a dust, and that the ruse had the desired effect of

deceiving Porter. As Stuart was recovering Longstreet's flank he would

be close to it. Now the object he had in dragging the brush was to

deceive Porter as to the force with which he was in immediate contact.

His saying that Porter was deceived by it was the mere expression of

his opinion--not the statement of a fact. Stuart's object was to gain

time enough for Longstreet (not Jackson) to readjust his line to meet

a threatened attack on his flank. That was all. If Porter saw a heavy

cloud of dust rising in the road before him, he could not tell,

without halting his column and reconnoitring, what created it. But the

delay involved in doing this was all that Stuart wanted. Longstreet

had been in the same dilemma at Salem two days before; when he reached

there he met Buford's cavalry. If he had known that nothing else was

in front of him, he would have brushed them away with a few

skirmishers without losing a minute on his march. But he halted his

column, he says, and was detained an hour before he could find out

what it was. Pope was deceived by a few shells the Confederates threw

at him across the Rappahannock into the belief that our army was in

his front when in fact it was in his rear. The divine genius has never

yet appeared in war that could always at a glance detect every

stratagem and see through every mask. "He who wars," says Napier,

"walks in a mist through which the keenest eye cannot always discern

the right path."

The Military Society of Massachusetts has published a volume of

papers on the Fitz John Porter case, which contains a letter from

Gen. B. H. Robertson to Gen. Porter, in which he says, "There was

no cavalry in that direction [Manassas Junction] _but mine_,

which was held there the remainder of the day;" and again he says:

"I have no knowledge of bushes having been dragged by cavalry to

create the impression of large forces coming, or for any purpose.

Had these directions been given, the order would naturally have

been transmitted through me. I heard no order on that subject."

And Gen. Porter says, "There was no dragging of brush, nor such a

project thought of, although Gen. Stuart so states in his report.

Gen. Pope harps on it." The conclusion suggested is that the

statement contained in Stuart's report is false, because

_Robertson had never heard of it_.

"There are more things in heaven and earth than were ever dreamt

of in your philosophy, Horatio!" Now, Gen. Robertson is mistaken

in saying that we had no cavalry in the direction from which

Porter approached _but his_; Stuart was there in person with

a part of Fitz Lee's brigade. Gen. Rosser, who was then a colonel

in Lee's brigade, says: "When Stuart joined me he notified me that

the enemy was moving on our right flank, and ordered me to move my

command up and down the dusty road, and to drag brush, and thus

create a heavy dust, as though troops were in motion. I kept this

up at least four or five hours." Robertson was relieved by Stuart

of his command immediately after the battle, and sent back to a

camp of instruction. As Gen. Porter was not inside the Confederate

lines that day, it is hard to understand how he could know that

the brush was not dragged to raise a dust to deceive him, or that

nothing of the sort was thought of. I am glad that he has been

relieved of an unjust sentence; but I am not willing to be silent

now, when "young Harry Percy's spur is cold," and see his

reputation sacrificed to save Gen. Porter's.

End of Project Gutenberg's Mosby's War Reminiscences, by John Singleton Mosby