B00HSFFI1Q EBOK

by Unknown

  Chapter 8

  After breakfast I was escorted by my new guard, Trooper McKay and Sergeant Major Mulrooney to the latrine.

  “You could have taken me sir.”

  Cecil sounded indignant. “I didn’t plan on taking anyone. Those two were waiting for me. What else could I do? Come and wake you?”

  “That wouldn’t have been a bad idea sir.”

  “Anyway this will soon be over one way or another.”

  “By this afternoon sir. The general himself is coming with some senior officers to sit on the court martial himself.”

  “Stuart or Jackson?”

  He looked sad, “Didn’t you know sir? General Jackson died of pneumonia. He never recovered. It will be General Stuart.”

  That news saddened me more than anything else. Stonewall Jackson had been more than Lee’s right hand man; he had been the reason for all our victories. He had always taken on superior numbers and won. Every soldier who fought for him would have gladly died for him and yet he was the sternest disciplinarian. It was a shame and made even worse by the fact that it had been our own side which had shot him.

  When I returned to my tent Cecil insisted on cleaning my best uniform and polishing my sword. “Those officers need to see how smart you are sir. It might help your case.” Poor Sergeant Major Mulrooney was almost in tears.

  He fussed over me like an old woman and polished my boots until they shone. He waited with me until Danny arrived just after noon. “The general is here Jack. Let’s go.”

  As we walked over he said, “It’s as I thought, he just demoted Sergeant James to corporal. He’ll soon get his stripe back.” I felt relieved at that. I could face whatever they threw at me now.

  I was marched into the tent and saw General Stuart, Colonel Boswell and a major I didn’t recognise. General Stuart frowned when he saw me and turned to say something to Colonel Boswell. The colonel stood. “Lieutenant Smith, will you read the charges.”

  Jed looked uncomfortable as he stood in his best uniform and read from the sheet. “Captain Jack Hogan is charged with desertion and disobeying an order from his commanding officer. He recklessly endangered the lives of two other soldiers when he went to Leesburg to rescue Lieutenant Spinelli and his men from a Union prison.”

  Jed sat down and looked assiduously at the ground. Colonel Boswell stood, “How do you plead?”

  I had never experienced anything like this before and I just answered honestly. “I suppose I must be guilty because I did go to Leesburg and I did rescue Lieutenant Spinelli.”

  He beamed, “There you have it members of this court martial. The accused admits his guilt. Now we will decide your….”

  General Stuart stood, “Now before we get to that can we just sit down and think about this.” Colonel Boswell reluctantly sat down. “Now I did not know that the officer in question was Captain Hogan. This puts a different complexion on things. Nor did I know the charges. When you said desertion it sounded more serious than it is.”

  “But it was desertion!”

  “No colonel, at worst it was being absent without leave but his motives were laudable. Besides which he has had two Unionregiments searching for him for the past two days.” He beckoned me over, “Captain Hogan, tell me why you went to Leesburg.”

  “Lieutenant Spinelli is a good officer and I did not want him or the others to rot in a Yankee prison. I have done this before sir.” I was reminding the general of the time that Dago and I had rescued his nephew from the prison at Gettysburg.

  “I know and I will always be grateful for that but why did you sneak away? You should have known it would put you in a bad light.”

  “I asked the colonel’s permission and he refused.” I shrugged. “I would do it again sir.”

  Colonel Boswell’s face was as black as thunder but General Stuart smiled. “As the senior officer here I have decided to squash the charges. Captain Hogan’s motives were of the highest order. You are returned to duty.” Colonel Boswell began to rise and General Stuart said, sternly, “If you gentlemen would leave us I think I need to have a word with the colonel here.”

  As we left I was slapped on the back by Jed and Danny, “Lucky Jack again. Sure and someone is looking after you, Jackie boy.”

  “I want Carlton making up to sergeant again.”

  “You don’t want much do you?”

  “Come on Danny, you can do it and you know it. Is it fair that I get off and he gets punished?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “You had better keep out of the colonel’s way for the next day or so.”

  Dago was waiting for me outside. “Well I guess we aren’t in the colonel’s good books.”

  I shrugged, “There was a time when that would have upset me but I am no longer one of Boswell’s Wildcats. I am part of the 1st Virginia Scouts. I think Colonel Cartwright would have approved.”

  “Let’s go and celebrate.”

  “No, I had better change. I have a feeling that I am going to be given some fairly unpleasant duties soon.”

  “The colonel? Sure he is mad now but he’ll get over it. You watch, within a week or so, it will be the same as it always was.”

  “You said it yourself; Dago, he has changed since he was wounded and went home. He has lost so much already in Charleston. I never had anything before so I am not worried about losing my house but the colonel was brought up a gentleman with a good life. He has lost far more than I ever had. That is bound to change a man; even the colonel.”

  I was, sadly, proved right. I had just finished changing when Sergeant Major Mulrooney arrived at my tent. He did not look happy. “We have been sent on patrol sir.”

  I gave a rueful smile, “I take it the colonel chewed you out?”

  “He told me to watch my step or I could lose my stripes.”

  I shook my head, the colonel was becoming vindictive; the Sergeant Major had only shown sympathy and yet he was being punished too.

  “Where to?”

  “The major will meet us at the horse lines and tell us there.”

  Sergeant James was there although he had only two stripes. “Sorry about that, Carlton.”

  “It doesn’t matter sir. I’m still the same man with or without the extra stripe.”

  It was a small patrol. There were just fifteen of us. Trooper Ritchie was also amongst them. Danny strode over, looking unhappy. “You are to check out Warrenton and Upperville. The colonel wants to know what activity there is in that area.”

  I bit my tongue. We had escaped through that region and he knew that there were at least two regiments of cavalry there. Instead I just smiled, “Right major. Sergeant James, bring a spare horse and some supplies.” Danny looked puzzled, “We can’t do both in one day sir. We will be out at least one night.”

  “Of course.” He leaned in to me. “You take care, Jack. The colonel will soon be back to his old ways soon enough.”

  “I hope so Danny because this new one is a little too much like Colonel Beauregard for my liking.”

  He nodded, “It’s the wound I think.”

  There was no way I would risk the road once we had crossed the Rappahannock. The Union cavalry would be swarming all over it. The colonel had done us a favour by giving me so few men. It was easier to hide and to move swiftly. We headed for Warrenton using tracks and woods whenever possible. When we did have to ride across open fields we kept a watch on the farms to see if we were being observed. We managed to reach our destination just before noon and we hid in the woods which were closest to the town.

  There was now a camp just south of the town. From the number of horses it looked to be cavalry. I took out my pencil and paper and drew a map and marked the camp. We moved north of the town and there was a second camp there. “They can’t be there just to look for us sir, can they?”

  “A flattering thought, Sergeant James,“ I continued to use his defunct title. I would make sure he got his stripe back. “No, I think they are up to something. Look at the uniforms; they are bri
ght blue. These are new boys. Let’s head to Marshall.”

  Marshall was a one horse town between Upperville and Warrenton. I did not expect anything to be there; in fact I was contemplating trying to buy some food. We had learned that civilians appreciated money and could turn a blind eye to the colour of the uniform. We were not proud of it but we all had Yankee dollars relieved from dead soldiers. We halted half way between the two settlements and ate some of our rations. Thanks to the raid on the train we still ate well.

  One of the younger and newer troopers, Brock, plucked up the courage to speak with me as we ate. “Sir, is it true that you met the colonel when you were a sailor?”

  “Yes trooper. He rescued me from a life at sea. I owe my life to the colonel. If he hadn’t taken me from the Rose then I would be at the bottom of the sea.”

  He looked puzzled, “Then why did he have you court-martialled sir?”

  “That’s enough!” snapped Sergeant James. The boy recoiled at his tone. Carlton rarely shouted.

  “No that’s alright sergeant. I daresay the rest are all wondering that and he had the courage to ask.” I turned to the young man. “The colonel believes in rules. I broke a rule and I accepted the consequences. That is what life is about son. If you do something then see it through and accept the consequences. There is no point moaning about life being unfair. A one armed sailor taught me that. Anyway let’s get on now and see what the Yankees have done to Marshall.”

  Marshall told us the same story; Union camps and many horses. Sergeant James rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Now why do you think the Yankees have so many cavalry so close to Brandy Station and Culpeper?”

  “I think they are planning something. Remember when they attacked at Chancellorsville? We saw them gathering the soldiers for days and weeks before they actually did attack. I reckon the northerners are building up and they will hit us again.”

  “And we haven’t replaced those men we lost in the last battle yet.”

  “There is no point moping. Let’s get up to Upperville and then head on back.”

  The track to Upperville was difficult. The rains the previous month had made the ground sodden and, in some places, it was still impassable. The road would have been quicker but we needed to remain hidden and so we took many detours. One such detour saved us from an ambush.

  We had had to trek up a shallow valley and over a small ridge to drop down the other side. As we emerged from the trees we saw a gun emplacement and infantry guarding the road below. Had we not detoured we would have stumbled upon the men. They would not have missed. I led the patrol back into the shelter of the trees.

  We rode along the ridge and dropped down a mile or so further on and then headed for Upperville. It was the same story but here there were infantry as well as artillery. I could see that they had learned their lessons and the artillery park was both protected and watched closely. We were not here to raid but to observe. My notes now covered a couple of pages and would provide valuable information.

  “I think we can head on back now although I fear we will have a night in the open again.” I shielded my eyes to look at the sun. It was the middle of the afternoon and we were far from home.

  Perhaps we had tarried in the open too long or maybe our luck had run out. Whatever the reason, we heard the bugle and saw the cavalry galloping from the town. We turned back into the cover of the trees. “Trooper Ritchie, keep an eye on the cavalry.” We rode steadily without any pursuit coming close.

  When I halted the trooper said, “Sir, they headed down the road.”

  That was it. They were planning an ambush. We also had the problem that they could alert the men at the gun emplacement and they would be watching for us. It would be difficult to escape this particular trap. We would have to use our superior skills of horsemanship and our knowledge of the terrain.

  “Check your weapons.”

  After I was satisfied that we were prepared we rode on and skirted the artillery position. We rode back along the ridge towards the impassable ground and there we saw the Yankees waiting for us. There were forty men in the patrol and they were halted on the other side of the shallow valley a hundred and eighty yards away. I halted my men and the Yankees watched us.

  One of the troopers asked, nervously, “Aren’t we going to run sir?”

  “Not yet, Morgan. Take out your carbines and wait for my order to fire.” I knew that we could not go forwards and I also knew that we could not cross that ground. It was like a swamp, we had discovered that earlier. I was waiting to see what the young lieutenant in charge of the smartly dressed troops would do. I smiled when he made his mistake. All that he saw was a shallow valley and a handful of Rebs waiting for him. I watched as he drew his sword and ordered the charge.

  “Open fire when I give the orders but don’t hit the officer he is worth more to us alive and making dumb decisions. Go for the corporals and sergeants. Fire!”

  We had stationary horses and the Yankee cavalry were going nowhere. Their progress halted when their mounts sank up to their saddles in mud. They were like sitting ducks and we picked our targets carefully. My first shot hit a sergeant in the arm, throwing him from his horse. When the trooper next to him dismounted to help the sergeant, Trooper Ritchie hit him too. The young officer gallantly tried to rally his men but it was in vain. Some of them tried to use their carbines to return fire but their struggling horses did not afford them a solid platform. The hillside was filled with our barking carbines. There were so many that we could not fail to hit them. They had had enough and began to fall back out of the range of our handful of carbines. The six horses from the fallen horsemen stood forlornly in the mud as the survivors regrouped.

  Our forward progress had been halted which left us but one alternative. “We will have to go back and take on that artillery emplacement and use the road.”

  I had expected an argument for there were at least fifty men in the emplacement but they merely sheathed their carbines and prepared to return. They were the best of men to lead. We returned to the shelter of the woods as the lieutenant tried to organise his men. They would find the route we had taken and pursue us eventually but I knew that we should be able to lose them in the dark.

  Knowing where the emplacement was allowed us to approach quietly using the cover of the trees. I used hand signals to order the men to draw their Colts. The infantry and artillerymen would have heard the gunfire and would be on the alert but I counted on the fact that they would be looking to the sound of the gunfire and the road rather than behind them.

  We would hit the Yankees in a column of twos. It meant we should be able to carve a path through them. I halted just within the eaves of the trees. The sun was setting in the west and we were almost invisible in the gloom of the east. The Parrot gun had a crew of twelve around it. The thirty or so infantrymen were behind earthworks. They were all looking down at the road. The engineers had left a path, wide enough for three horses, to go down to the road which lay a hundred yards beyond the gun. It was a well placed site for nothing could approach Upperville without having to run the gauntlet of their guns.

  It was now or never. I pumped my right arm three times and we erupted from the trees. We were less than fifty yards from them as we gave our rebel yell and they looked around in terror as we appeared from nowhere. I aimed at the gun crew. They were unarmed but they could fire at us with their cannon if I didn’t. Three of them fell to our guns as Copper thundered at them. I heard the fire from my men behind me. I switched my gun to aim at my left where I saw that some of the infantry had lifted their guns and were preparing to fire. My gun barked three times and I holstered and drew a second.

  I was almost through their lines when I fired two shots at point blank range. I glanced behind me and saw a pall of smoke surrounding my grey troopers as they carved a path of death down the slope. To my horror Trooper Morgan was struck by a bayonet and fell screaming from his horses and then there was a huge flash as a spark ignited the powder which was behind t
he gun. The smoke wreathed the emplacement and then the roar of the explosion and the concussion of the air hit us. I could hear little but I saw the blue coated infantry thrown to the ground. I dug my heels into Copper and suddenly struck the road. I wheeled left as Iturned to watch the survivors of my patrol follow me. We could not stop until we were clear of the gun but I desperately needed to see how we had fared.

  A quarter of a mile down the road I halted. I did not want winded horses. It looked like Trooper Morgan was our only loss but many of the men sported wounds and injuries. Sergeant James had been at the back. “What happened, Carlton?”

  He shook his head to clear his ears. “I think they hit their powder themselves. I was at the back and I saw them aiming at me; I put my head low and kicked on. They fired and must have all hit the powder and not me.”

  “Well it saved our bacon. We will ride steadily for a while and then try to hide for the night. They will be combing this neck of the woods for us soon. Well done boys. Those Yankees will be talking of your charge for some time to come.”

  As we road back towards Brandy Station I began to evaluate our options. I had no doubt that they would have alerted both Marshal and Warrenton. Those cavalry regiments based there would be out the next day and looking for us. How would we evade them? When we camped I would have to look at the map closely and see if I could plot a way back which avoided detection.

  I spied a track leading up into the Blue Ridge and I led us up it. It twisted and turned. I knew that we were not far from one of our earlier camps and an idea struck me. Once we had reached the top of the ridge I headed south until we came to a clearing.

  “Take off your saddles and let the horses graze. The grass isn’t the best but it will have to do. Eat while I work out how to get back home.”

  “Sir I brought some grain for the horses. You guys come and get it. Ritchie bring Copper while the captain reads the map.”

  I nodded to Ritchie as he led Copper away. The light was going fast but I could still see. If we headed due south we would only have to cross the turnpike to Front Royal and then we could use the small country road to avoid both Marshall and Warrenton. We would not reach Brandy Station but we would reach General Lee’s headquarters at Culpeper. It was a circuitous route but it would be a safe route.