B00HSFFI1Q EBOK

by Unknown

  I waved the sergeant over and explained what I intended. “Good plan sir.”

  “Now what about the horses. Will they get us there?”

  “MacKay’s took a thrust from a bayonet. We need to mount him on the spare. The supplies we brought will be gone by the time we leave. Yes, they should do it but we will have to look after them.”

  I stabbed a finger at the pike. “That is our only worry. I want to hit that before morning. I reckon it will be busy during the day. If Hooker is building up his army then that will be his key road.”

  In answer he handed me some jerky. “Then make sure you eat sir. These boys would like to get home and you are their only chance.”

  “You could do just as well Carlton.”

  He shook his head. “I know horses and I reckon I know men but when it comes to making decisions like you do then I am useless.”

  We rested for two hours. I knew we ran a risk of allowing the Union cavalry to tighten their noose but I relied on the fact that it was a large area to cover and they had no idea where we actually were. This time Trooper Ritchie took the rear. He had proved to me that he had the ability to think and react quickly under pressure and he had sharp ears.

  We wound our way down the slope towards the road. We knew this part of the Blue Ridge well. It had been one of our escape routes in the past. As the sergeant and I led the way I reflected that the sergeant and I were the only ones on this patrol who had been here back then. We halted just above the road and listened. Sound travels a long way at night time. We heard nothing. I looked at Sergeant James and nodded. We rode slowly towards the road. We were looking for the small road which wound its ways through the hills towards the Warrenton pike. We would have to cross that road too but I hoped that we would have out run our pursuers by then. We had to risk the road for a short way. The moon came out from behind a cloud, briefly, and showed us the turning. We gratefully took it and entered the shelter of the hills which ran south eastwards.

  We had achieved our first goal and crossed the road in the dark. Would our luck hold on the second road? We could see small homes and farms dotted along our route but they were mercifully dark. There were no early risers. When we reached the small crossroads we halted. There was a cluster of buildings. The road east led to Marshall. If we disturbed whoever lived here then they could send a rider to Marshall and we would be trapped. We had almost made it when a door opened and, from the glow of the light from within I saw a man with a shotgun.

  “Who are you boys?”

  The man was on my left and as I spoke with him I began to ease my pistol from its holster. It was unlikely that I survive an exchange of fire for the shotgun was aimed at my middle. I had learned never to give up, even when things looked to be impossible.

  “The 1st Virginia Scouts sir.”

  There was a heart stopping pause and then he lowered the hammers on the gun. He smiled, “You must be the boys them Yankees are looking for.” He turned into the house, “Betsy, bring that pot of coffee here.” He pointed down the road. “A troop of cavalry came down the road just before midnight looking for you. Seems you stirred up a hornet’s nest up north eh boys?”

  His wife was pouring coffee into our mugs and smiling at us. They looked to be a middle aged couple which explained why he was not in the army. “Yes sir. We come down from Upperville.”

  “You boys ain’t with Mosby are you?”

  “No sir. We’re regulars but we were with the Wildcats.”

  He nodded, “Seems I heard of you boys.”

  “Thank you for the coffee. We had better be off.”

  “You boys take care now.”

  As the door was closed and the crossroads plunged into darkness once more I breathed a sigh of relief. Our luck was holding. If that had been a Yankee sympathiser then I would now be dead. There were many people who supported the Confederacy in the Blue Ridge. It was one of the reasons Mosby and his men survived. It was dawn when we reached the Warrenton Road. East lay Union cavalry and we rode west until we reached the road to Rixeyville. I consulted my map again. We could fork left down this road and ride directly to Brandy Station. We would not need to detour to Culpepper. Things had worked out well.

  We had just crossed the Hazel River when the Yankees found us. I have no idea how they picked up our trail but the troop of blue coated horsemen were spotted by Trooper Ritchie as he let his horse drink from the river.

  “Yankees! A quarter of a mile away!”

  We whipped our horses to race down the road. We could neither slow down nor fight the cavalry who were pursuing us. They could see us and therefore avoid anything we could do. The handful of people in Rixeyville looked in amazement as we thundered through their tiny town, hotly pursued by the cavalry eager to finally capture us.

  “Sergeant James!” The sergeant brought Apples next to Copper.

  “Sir?” He glanced over his shoulder.

  “Keep going to Culpeper. I’ll drop back with Ritchie.”

  He nodded a reluctant, “Sir.” He might not like me putting myself in harm’s way again but he knew that I might see a solution to our dilemma. I just hoped that their horses were as tired as ours were.

  I let the others overtake me and settled next to Trooper Ritchie. They were closing but not rapidly. They were now three hundred yards from us. Although Culpeper was nine miles away we would be safe if we could cover the next five miles before capture. I figured that Lee and Stuart would have scouts on this road too.

  I heard the pop of pistols, as the Union pursuers chanced shots. We were not in much danger but I was acutely aware that they just needed one lucky ball to strike man or beast and we would be in trouble. Trooper Ritchie grinned at me. He was young enough to still enjoy this. “They must want us real bad, sir.”

  “I think we have upset them and their pride.” I glanced over my shoulder again and they were inexorably closing with us. Dare I risk us going faster? The horses were tired. Copper could run all day but even my mount was labouring a little. We were half a mile closer and I could feel their shots coming alarmingly near to us.

  I raised my voice to shout to the men in the front. “Sergeant James, let’s try to go a little faster.”

  “Sir!” I had placed the sergeant at the front for he could judge the pace better than anyone.

  I saw the men in front of me go faster and I turned to Trooper Ritchie. “We will keep the same pace for a while. I want the boys ahead to get a lead.”

  “Yes sir.”

  When the gap was fifty yards I turned and saw that the Union cavalry were just two hundred paces away. I drew my Colt and, holding it as steadily as I could, I fired six shots at the blue coated horsemen. “Now Ritchie, ride like the wind.” As soon as I kicked Copper the game horse leapt forwards. The shots had caused the Yankees to slow and the gap rose to three hundred yards by the time we reached the rest of my men. We had bought a little time and that was all.

  The gap stayed the same and I began to believe that we would escape when Trooper Ritchie’s horse suddenly began to slow. “Sir. My horse, she’s been hit.” I glanced at the flanks and saw that the chestnut had been struck some time during our pursuit. “Leave me sir. You get to the general with the information.”

  “No, we’ll get you out of this.” I could see that the Union cavalry were now more strung out than they had been. We had a spare horse and all we needed was a few minutes. “Troop halt!” They obeyed instantly. “Turn and fire. Ritchie get on the spare horse.”

  I had my two loaded Colts out in an instant and blazed away. The leading riders must have emptied their guns firing at us and had not had the opportunity to reload. They looked in horror as we poured lead into them.

  “Done sir!”

  “Then let’s go!”

  We turned and galloped away. We had hurt them but they were now less than a hundred and fifty yards away. The riders at the front had loaded guns and it was a matter of time before they managed to hit one of us. I had ridden my luck one time too
many. As I glanced over my shoulder expecting to see them close with us I heard the joyful sound of a bugle, a Confederate bugle. As the troop of Carolina Cavalry thundered past me firing and whooping I saluted with a beaming smile on my face. I was still Lucky Jack.

  Chapter 9

  While the cavalry from South Carolina chased the Yankees back to the Blue Ridge we rode directly to General Lee’s Headquarters. General Stuart was just leaving as we rode in.

  “Captain Hogan. Good to see you sir.” He frowned. “I take it this is not a social visit sir?”

  “No sir. We have just patrolled as far as Upperville. There are Union camps at Warrenton, Marshall and Upperville. We counted at least seven regiments, four of them cavalry.” I handed him my notes.

  “Well done captain. I shall take these to General Lee. You may rejoin your regiment.”

  Riding back to Brandy Station I reflected that was all we would ever get; a pat on the back and well done. It had cost a trooper his life to get that information and he would not even be remembered, save by his comrades.

  I did not have to face Colonel Boswell when I arrived back at the camp. He and the major had been invited to a meeting with the other commanders to plan a war game General Lee had ordered. I was relieved. Harry, Dago and Jed were all glad to see me and we were able to talk freely in the mess.

  “Major Murphy was like a bear with a sore head these past couple of days.”

  “Yeah, Harry is right. He worried that this might be a patrol too far for you. He knew you and the others were tired. I heard him and the colonel having words about it. I sure hope things get back to normal soon. I don’t like what it is doing to the regiment.”

  I shook my head, “You know, Dago, I yearn for the days of Boswell’s Wildcats when there were neither politics nor rules. It made far more sense than now.”

  Harry poured me a large whiskey. “It will all make sense once we invade Pennsylvania and we can get back to whipping the Yankees.”

  “I am not so sure about an invasion Harry. We found a lot of new regiments just north of us. I think we may be fighting them sooner rather than later but it will be on their terms.”

  All thoughts of an invasion were dismissed when we were briefed by Colonel Boswell the next day. “The general has decided that we will need to have some war games to allow us to learn how to fight together as one Cavalry Corps. The day after tomorrow we will be setting up a battle between the different regiments.”

  I saw Harry scratch his head, “I am sorry sir but how does fighting each other help us to learn how to fight together. That doesn’t make sense.”

  For once the colonel looked as confused as we were. “I know but General Lee himself wants to watch us fight so we do it as ordered.” He looked at me; his eyes still cold and unforgiving. “Captain Hogan and his men will have to patrol north of the Rappahannock to make sure that we are not surprised by the Union cavalry.”

  I saw Danny begin to rise. I think he was going to defend me but I didn’t need any further rifts between my friends. I gave him a slight shake of the head and he sat down.

  “If that is all then I suggest that you prepare your men for the coming games.”

  If Colonel Boswell thought he was punishing me by sending me on patrol he was wrong. I was more than happy to be on patrol with my men. The task he had given me was an easy one anyway. We would not have far to ride. By crossing Beverley Ford we could ensure that no-one could approach the camp with us seeing them. It would be a pleasant day; unless the Yankees came. They didn’t and it was a good day. Trooper Ashcroft managed to bag a couple of rabbits which would make a welcome change from the rations. There were shortages of food which meant that we augmented our diet whenever we could.

  General Lee had, apparently, missed the review, which meant it would have to be repeated when he could see it. General Stuart had been pleased with the way everyone had performed. Of course the men and horses were exhausted from the constant charging and counter charging.

  When we sat outside the mess tent that night Dago was very pessimistic about the prospects. “Everyone knows that you can’t keep charging horses. You have to rest them. If this had been a real battle today then we would have all been killed. You had the best duty, Jack.”

  I nodded, “It was very peaceful.

  We drew the same duty when the review was repeated. This time it was not so peaceful. We had discovered a pleasant stand of trees by the ford and we had a couple of fishing lines out. Trooper Ritchie and I took our carbines to see if we, too, could bag some food for the pot. It was our stalking of animals which hid us from the Northern patrol which approached from the north. We were hiding in the undergrowth when we saw them. “Trooper Ritchie, go and bring the men up with their carbines.”

  As he slipped silently away I stared at the approaching riders. There were just two scouts but I knew that there would be more following. These cavalrymen had seen action. Their uniforms were faded and they rode with their pistols drawn. It would not do to underestimate them.

  By the time my men arrived I could see that there were twenty men in the patrol. They were scouting the ford. Sergeant James spread the men out and he took the right end of the line. We let them ride towards us. The road was slightly below us and dropped down to the ford; we would have the advantage of height when we opened fire.

  I waited until they were within pistol range and then swung my arm down. Our carbines bucked as we opened fire. They were briefly confused, but they showed their quality when they dismounted and drew their own weapons. The advantage was with us for, although they outnumbered us, we had height and surprise on our side. Their officer and sergeant had been knocked from their saddles in the first volley and they were taking more casualties. They were firing blindly at our smoke and they were not harming us in the least.

  There was so much smoke it was hard to see where they were. When their fire slackened I held up my hand and we waited for the smoke to clear. The survivors were heading back along the road towards their own lines. They had loaded their dead and wounded on to their horses and were heading north.

  “Give them another volley.”

  We fired again and managed to hit one of the troopers who fell from his horse. We ran to him as his comrades fled. He was a Maryland cavalryman. We found no papers on him but he had a fine pair of boots, which we took as well as an Army Colt and a full ammunition pouch. Disappointingly he only had five dollars on him. We returned to camp with the news that the enemy were scouting the ford.

  The colonel looked tired when we reported to him. I don’t think he had enjoyed the review. He even forgot to scowl at me as he rode off to give the news directly to General Stuart. When the colonel returned he told us that our task the next day, as a regiment, was to scout out the land to the north of Beverley Ford. We would be up before dawn.

  We had just paraded before the colonel when we heard the sound of gunfire coming from the ford. There was no time for a parade and Colonel Boswell became his old self as he led the regiment towards the firing at the river. As we passed the artillery camp close to St. James’ Church the colonel ordered the bugler to sound the alarm. The artillerymen erupted from their tents as we charged by.

  Ahead we could see, highlighted by the dawn, the Pennsylvania cavalry streaming across the ford. The pickets were fleeing in our direction. This was not the time to pause and reflect; if the cavalry got amongst the camp then our men, already exhausted from war games, would be slaughtered in their beds. The charge was sounded. We were too disorganised to hit them as a solid line but the colonel’s intention was obvious, to put us between them and the artillery. This would give the troops at the camp time to organise. We were like the boys in the Alamo; we were buying the army time to prepare. I spurned by sword and drew my Colt. I could be more effective with that at this close range.

  We hit their line at a bend on the Beverly Ford Road. I suspect that they thought they had done the hard part in chasing away our vedettes. We had the advantage of slightly
higher ground and had momentum. They were a blue sea washing up from the river. I saw a colonel appear before me, his sabre in his hand and I fired. He was thrown from his saddle. I shot his bugler too. The lieutenant who was on the other side of the bugler swung his sword at my head. I ducked and fired blindly at the same time. I saw him clutch his stomach as he wheeled from the battle. They had been briefly halted and the horses milled around in confusion. The front ranks were being pressed forward by more men who were streaming across the ford. It was a furious battle.

  As I emptied my gun I was forced to draw my sword. I managed to parry the blow aimed at my head from the enormous grinning trooper. He was no swordsman and, as he raised his sabre for a second attempt I stabbed him in the chest. I saw three troopers galloping at me and I drew my saddle Colt and emptied it in their direction. The one trooper who reached me had his arm thrust forward to spear me. I leaned to one side to evade it and slashed at his middle with my own.

  It was with some relief that I heard the bugle sound the order to withdraw. We headed up the road. I saw that the artillery had managed to position a gun on either side of the road. I heard Danny roar, “Dismount and form a skirmish line between the guns.”

  I slipped from my horse and drew my carbine as the trooper designated as horse holder led Copper away. “Good to be back with you sir!”

  I grinned as I saw Sergeant Major Mulrooney behind me. He turned to shout at the troopers. “Find as much cover as you can and wait for the order to fire.”

  I looked down the line of my troopers. I could not see any familiar face that was missing. We had been lucky. We now had to wait to see what the enemy would do. If their commander had any sense he would form a skirmish line and his superior numbers would soon whittle us down. I saw at least one brigade do that.