by Burke Davis
Blackford had found among the prisoners the Federal captain Miss Lucas of Warrenton sought, and took him to Stuart. Jeb laughed.
"Go on ahead, Blackford," Stuart said, "and get the lady ready with the wine. She can have it there when we pass."
The general halted the column when he reached the Lucas house, the young woman appeared, blushing amid cheers of prisoners and the cavalry staff, and the Federal captain took his bottle of wine off toward a Richmond prison. The staff hurried back to the column.11
As they left the town a young gunner of the column made a note for his diary: "Raiding with General Stuart is poor fun and a hard business. Thunder, lightning, rain, storm nor darkness can stop him when he is on a warm fresh trail of Yankee game. This morning our battery, guns, horses and men look as if the whole business had passed through a shower of yellow mud last night."12
They camped near White Sulphur, on the fifth day that they had lived on a three-day ration. They had not seen supply wagons since the eighteenth, far back at Orange Court House.
The next day, August twenty-third, the cavalry fell back down the river, and Stuart rode off to R. E. Lee's headquarters, not far from Waterloo Bridge. As the troopers passed General Field's infantry brigade, Fitz Lee and his staff dismounted at the roadside.
Fitz hailed General Field: "Wait a minute, General Something to show you."
Fitz slipped behind a tree with a bundle and "in a moment or two emerged dressed in the long blue cloak of a Federal General that reached nearly down to his feet, and wearing a Federal General's hat with its big plume." The infantrymen roared with laughter when they heard the story of the raid on Catlett's Station and the seizure of Pope's tent. Fitz Lee had not only snatched up this uniform, but had taken his victim's waiting supper from the table.13
Fitz turned over the uniform to Stuart, and Jeb spent a day or so joking about it, carrying it rolled behind his saddle, displaying it at every chance, and laughing over Pope's plight. He showed Stonewall Jackson the label: "John Pope." Jackson was shaken by his curious silent laughter, and listened in delight to Stuart's tale of the capture. Jeb scratched out a dispatch:
Major Genl. John Pope Commanding, U. S. Army
General: You have my hat and plume. I have your best coat. I have the honor to propose a cartel for a fair exchange of the prisoners.
Jackson laughed aloud, and made one of his rare jokes: "Stuart, I believe I'd rather you had brought General Pope instead of his coat."
Stuart sent the coat to Richmond where his kinsman, Governor Letcher, put it on display in the State Library. The city's newspapers made much of the boastful Pope's loss.
Stuart's raid on Catlett's was the talk of the army. It may have inspired the popular song published about this time: "Riding a Raid," sung to the tune of "Bonnie Dundee." Its Richmond publisher used an engraving of Stuart on the cover, resplendent in a plumed hat.14
But the raid had done little to alter the strategic situation. General Lee reported to President Davis that it "accomplished some minor advantages, destroyed some wagons, and captured some prisoners."
In Stuart's report the raid emerged in a different light. It was clear, Jeb wrote, "what a demoralizing effect the success of this expedition had upon the army of the enemy, shaking their confidence in a general who had scorned the enterprise and ridiculed the courage of his adversaries ... it compelled him to make heavy detachments from his main body. It inflicted a mortifying disaster upon the general himself in the loss of his personal baggage and part of his staff."
Not only that. The troopers who had shared the rigors of the night attack seemed peerless to Jeb: "The horseman who, at his officer's bidding, without questioning leaps into unexplored darkness, knowing nothing except that there is certain danger ahead, possesses the highest attribute of the soldier. It is a great source of pride to me to command a division of such men."
No one knew Stuart better than General Lee, and the commanding general clearly appreciated his dashing horsemen. In one report of Stuart's exploits to Richmond he wrote: "I take occasion to express to the Department my sense of the boldness, judgment and prudence he displayed."
But perhaps the galloping rhetoric of the reports on Catlett's offended Lee's sense of propriety, for the commander soon wrote of Stuart: "The General deals in the flowery style, as you will perceive if you ever see his reports in detail."15
But Stuart wrote Flora gaily of his "rapid dash" at the enemy rear, proclaiming: "I have had my revenge out of Pope."
The army now turned to more decisive action against the enemy.
CHAPTER 10
Exit John Pope
AMONG the captives in Stuart's camp was a pretty woman who had been taken in a Federal private's uniform. She got no mercy from Jeb. She begged for release, but the horseman said, "If you're man enough to enlist, you ought to be man enough to go to prison."
Von Borcke took her to General Lee's headquarters and the staff there enjoyed teasing her. She continued her pleas that her sex should exempt her from a common prison, but headquarters sent her to Richmond. Von Borcke forgot her in the joys of the day, for his share of the loot from Catlett's was two boxes of fine Havana cigars, which he puffed endlessly.1
Von Borcke carried back orders for Stuart which presaged a lightning change in the battle front.
The armies still lay with the Rappahannock between them, sputtering musket and cannon fire when skirmishers met.
On Sunday, August twenty-fourth, R. E. Lee began another of his daring maneuvers. He went to Jackson's headquarters and asked him to get his men ready to march—all of them, a total of 25,000. Lee had not many more than 50,000 on the south bank of the river, and Pope lay opposite with about 80,000. There was no advantage in fighting across the river against these odds. Lee and Jackson were quick to agree on the remedy.
Jackson's corps would slip up the river, cross it, and swing northwest until in the enemy's rear. The objective was Pope's lifeline from Washington, the Orange and Alexandria Railroad. The march would be screened by cavalry.
Lee would remain behind with the balance of the army, confronting Pope until Jackson was well on his way. He would then follow in his path, and the army would concentrate. Ewell's division led Stonewall's column out in the gray light of August twenty-fifth.
Stuart remained behind for the day. He sent Captain Hardeman Stuart of his staff to a curious adventure. The captain was to seize a Federal signal post known as View Tree and supplant it with a Confederate flagman.
Hardeman Stuart found the hilltop held by a strong picket which drove off his handful of men; he was left afoot by an orderly who fled with his horse. Jeb's young cousin retreated until he met Jackson's passing column and fell in with an infantry regiment, to fight with Stonewall for a time.
Jeb was called to headquarters at midnight and ordered to take the cavalry in Jackson's path. Buglers called reveille at one A.M. and the squadrons were soon moving: Amissville, a sleeping village, then across the Rappahannock just above Waterloo Bridge and into the small town of Salem. Here the way was blocked by Jackson's wagons and artillery and Stuart took them out of the road. His report of it had a casual sound: "I got no sleep, but remained in the saddle all night. . . . Directing the artillery and ambulances to follow the road, I left with the cavalry and proceeded by farm roads and by paths parallel to General Jackson's route to reach the head of his column. . . . The country was exceedingly rough, but I succeeded, by the aid of skillful guides, in passing Bull Run Mountain without incident worthy of record."2
A few Federal pickets were snapped up, but no alarms were given, and when Jackson's men poured across the Bull Run range by Thoroughfare Gap, they broke into the plain in rear of the enemy. The Confederates were in great strength, ready to stand between Pope and Washington.
Until they turned back east through the pass and caught sight of the railroad, Jackson's veterans were ignorant of their objective. Allen Redwood, who marched with the 55th Virginia Infantry, sketched the men as they near
ed the point of decision:
"Such specters of men they were—gaunt-cheeked and hollow-eyed, hair, beard, clothing, and accouterments covered with dust— only their faces and hands, where mingled soil and sweat streaked and crusted the skin, showing any departure from the whitey-gray uniformity. The ranks were sadly thinned. . . . Our regiment, which had begun the campaign 1015 strong and had carried into action at Richmond 620, counted off just 82 muskets!"3
The sweep around Pope had been no secret to the watchful Federals. The dust cloud raised by Jackson's men hung within sight of a dozen signal stations on the morning of August twenty-fifth, and signal flags waved accurate estimates of Stonewall's strength. But Pope's army lay along the Rappahannock as if unconcerned. Jackson might be headed for the Shenandoah Valley, or in any of three or four directions on a raid. By some miracle it did not occur to Federal headquarters that the maneuver placed Pope and his army in peril. The dash of Jackson, as it developed, might as well have been secret, after all.
Pope's order on the twenty-fifth instructed General Irwin McDowell to move his corps on Waterloo Bridge to see what was going on there, but there was little movement.
At the close of August twenty-sixth, when Jackson was striking the railroad far to the north, Pope's headquarters were at Warrenton Junction, and the units of his army were still scattered along the Rappahannock. Federal cavalry under General Buford was ordered westward at dawn to find Jackson's route.
In the night, scouts reported Jackson was marching for Thoroughfare Gap. The news did not seem to signal danger to Pope, who began to issue orders for a sort of castles-in-Spain battle, planning to line his forces on an east-west front between Warrenton and Gainesville. He was writing orders for this move when he was interrupted: Confederate cavalry had cut the railroad at Manassas Junction in his rear. Pope ordered a regiment "to ascertain what had occurred, repair the telegraph wires and protect the railroad there until further orders."
At midnight Pope sent a message to McDowell: The question of whether the entire Confederate army "has gone round is a question which we must settle instantly, so that we may determine our plans." It was eight thirty A.M.. August twenty-seventh, before Pope ordered a concentration at Gainesville, near Manassas.
The Federal commander learned the truth—that Jackson's whole wing was behind him—only when he arrived at Bristoe Station on the railroad, where in the afternoon of the twenty-seventh General Hooker had driven back Ewell's vanguard after a sharp skirmish. Pope belatedly began his fight for life.
Stuart emerged from the cross-country ride with his troopers in the afternoon of August twenty-sixth at Gainesville, where he reported to Stonewall. Just before dusk troopers pounded into Bristoe Station and scattered the enemy picket.
Confederate infantry was flowing into the place when a wailing engine and a train of empty cars fled past to the north. It was too late to derail it, but soldiers hurried it with musket fire.
Jackson was told that troop and supply trains were due in the station, and he ordered switches opened so that they would plunge down a bank to destruction. He put a brigade of infantry along the tracks to fire on the bluecoats when they piled from the cars, and Stonewall rode to a nearby knoll, where he sat in the darkness with Stuart. When a train was heard, Jeb became anxious and turned to Stonewall: "Are you sure the switch is turned?"
"I suppose so. I sent my engineer officer to see to it."
Stuart was not satisfied, and sent Blackford to inspect the trap.
The engineer went off in the dark, found he could not ride up the railroad bank, and dismounted as the train was rushing upon him. A sharp volley came from the infantry as the train drew near. The quick-thinking Blackford jumped across the track in front of the racing engine and stumbled down the opposite bank, safe from spattering Confederate bullets. The train hurtled through the open switch at about fifty miles an hour, and half the cars tumbled down the bank.
When Blackford at last recrossed the railroad he learned that Stuart had left for Manassas. Jeb thought Blackford was dead, friends said, and had gone off with the staff, someone leading Blackford's horse. The engineer joined Jackson's staff to watch the trapping of more trains.4
Soldiers smashed red lanterns on the rear of the standing train and a second engine rammed into it, plunging through three cars and knocking them across the track. Blackford broke out the rear lanterns of the second ruined train. A third headlight appeared, but soon halted, and a shrieking engine backed up swiftly, sounding the alarm. Confederates set fire to the jumbled box cars, and wrecking crews pulled up the tracks.
In Blackford's brief absence, Jackson learned of an enormous enemy supply depot at Manassas Junction, four miles up the rails toward Washington. His troops were worn, but old Ike Trimble, one of the most belligerent of his general officers, insisted that he be sent to the Junction. He marched at about nine P.M. with two infantry regiments, anxious for spoils and glory.
Jackson had sent Stuart on the same errand. This was the beginning of a bitter army feud, for Jeb understood only that Stonewall told him "to take charge of the whole." He did not know what Trimble's orders had been, and the infantryman was not aware of Stuart's assignment.
Stuart hurried his troopers through the night and reached the place ahead of the infantry. He was halted by artillery fire and settled down to wait for morning. His version was that General Trimble, when he came up, asked for the delay until dawn. Trimble later denied this with heat and engaged in a controversy that was to crowd army records for months.
Before daylight North Carolina and Georgia infantrymen drove off Federal artillerymen in the village and captured their guns. Jackson's vanguard fell upon such spoils as they had never seen.
Von Borcke wrote:
"It was amusing to see here a ragged fellow regaling himself with a box of pickled oysters or potted lobster; there another cutting into a cheese of enormous size, or emptying a bottle of champagne; while hundreds were opening packages of boots and shoes and other clothing."
The cavalry and infantry fought for these spoils, and von Borcke enjoyed carrying out an order from Stuart to divide plunder among Stuart Horse Artillerymen who pressed around a wagon: "The different boxes were speedily opened by my sword, and were found to contain shirts, hats, pocket handkerchiefs, oranges, lemons, wines, cigars."5
Stonewall had the whisky and wine of the depot destroyed, and hundreds of kegs were smashed. Major Roy Mason of General Field's staff saw a depressing sight: "Streams of spirits ran like water through the sands of Manassas, and the soldiers on hands and knees drank it greedily from the ground as it ran."6
Jackson ordered depot sheds burned, and stores began to flame long before all the hungry Confederates had been fed.
The enemy was already pressing in. A New Jersey brigade had come from Alexandria to protect the depot, unaware of Jackson's strength. The little bluecoat force at first faced Fitz Lee's command, and the amused trooper met General George Taylor's demand for surrender with a joking reply. He agreed solemnly that he was surrounded, with Taylor in his front and Pope in his rear, but asked for an hour to consider the demand.
Within a few minutes Jackson came with infantry and the brave New Jersey troops, still thinking they faced only a few cavalrymen, charged into ruinous fire. Jackson himself went to the front, waving a white handkerchief and yelling a demand for surrender, but the Federals broke only when overwhelmed from front and both flanks. The New Jerseymen were routed, leaving 300 prisoners behind.
Stonewall marched to Groveton, leaving Manassas Junction a burning ruin in his rear.
To the west of him General Lee should soon be coming over the mountain at Thoroughfare Gap, and his approach had suddenly become a matter of concern. Until Longstreet's big corps came up with General Lee, Jackson might have to face the whole of Pope's army alone—and the result of the miraculous march might be Stonewall's destruction.
And on the searing morning of August twenty-eighth, as the blue columns pushed nearer Jackson ov
er the dusty plains, the men in ranks feared the worst. Those in the rear could see signs of fighting on the slopes around Thoroughfare Gap, where the enemy was trying to halt Longstreet.
Stuart's troopers were in position, except for Fitz Lee's regiments, which were raiding toward Alexandria. Most of Robertson's men were near Sudley Church on Jackson's flank, and Colonel Tiernan Brien, with the ist Virginia, and Colonel Tom Rosser, with all his force, were in front of Jackson, facing Manassas and Gainesville. Firing increased, but Jackson continued to wait on his wooded ridge.
Stuart went to Stonewall with a captured dispatch: Bluecoat cavalry were marching on the nearby village of Hay Market. Stuart was anxious to welcome them: "I proposed to General Jackson to allow me to go up there and do what I could with the two fragments of brigades I still had."
Jackson agreed, for the Federal infantry did not seem near enough to threaten him yet. Stuart skirmished with enemy cavalry at Hay Market until he heard Jackson's front erupt behind him in heavy fighting. Jeb then turned back, but he was too late. Darkness fell and the battle sputtered out before he arrived.
Jackson had spent the late afternoon with his men packed into the hot woods of his hillside, waiting. Federal columns marched, but none came within easy reach, and Stonewall paced nervously until, just before dark, a bold bluecoat column came straight toward him. Jackson almost joyously gave his command, "Bring up your men, gentlemen," and the battle was on. Captain Blackford, watching, thought the men went into the open like so many ravenous beasts.
