by Burke Davis
After the review Stuart went among the carriages to invite spectators to visit the camp. Many families accepted, and von Borcke and Fitzhugh were hurried to the Timberlake house to prepare for the crowd. The officers commandeered "a little army" of slaves and looted the house of chairs and sofas, placing them in a great circle under a tent fly. The guests sat under the canvas in the yard, the women drinking cold milk and eating ginger cakes, and the men sipping juleps.
Von Borcke was impressed by the "animated talk and patriotic songs" of the guests, who left "with the impression that camp life was not so bad after all."
But the enemy had begun to stir. The Federal armies in Northern Virginia and the Shenandoah Valley had been consolidated, and a blustering general from the Western theater, John Pope, was in command. His first orders to the troops became jokes in both armies in Virginia:
Let us understand each other. I have come to you from the West, where we have always seen the backs of our enemies.... I presume I have been called here to pursue the same system. ... I hear constantly of "taking strong positions and holding them", of "lines of retreat. . .." Let us discard such ideas. The strongest position a soldier should desire to occupy is one from which he can most easily advance against the enemy.
Pope disturbed the repose of Stuart's command on von Borcke's birthday. There had been a surprise celebration and a bouquet of field flowers. News from the front ended the party: The enemy had overcome a cavalry picket just fifteen miles away and taken several prisoners and horses. Stuart went in pursuit with 2,000 men and two guns, but found to his "great disappointment" that the enemy had gone back to Fredericksburg. A night rainstorm broke, flooding creeks and rivers, forcing Stuart to retire and end his little offensive.
Jeb left the command to rest the horses and with Blackford and von Borcke climbed on a handcar propelled by two Negroes and whizzed back to headquarters on the railroad tracks. He was in Hanover Court House by sunset of July twenty-fifth.
For a few more days the headquarters staff lolled about the place. A favorite plantation house for visits was Dundee, the home of the Price family, intimates of Stuart. One Sunday, as the staff sat with Jeb on the porch of this house, listening to the tunes of Sweeney's banjo, Bob's bones and the fiddlers, fire blazed from a stable. The officers rushed to fight flames and save the livestock. They singed clothing and burned hands, but won the skirmish and for a day to two Stuart amused the women with his jokes about von Borcke's deeds of valor:
"He came running out of there with a mule under one arm and two little pigs under the other."
July thirtieth brought the biggest of the summer's celebrations. Stuart came back from Richmond with new commissions. He was a major general.
Von Borcke was a major, and adjutant general of the staff. There were other promotions, including a captaincy for Cooke, but none for Blackford. Richmond refused to advance engineer officers, but Blackford did get welcome aid: A wagon fitted for his map making, with a driver and five horses.
The cavalry command was also enlarged. There would be three brigades under Jeb commanded by Wade Hampton, Beverly Robertson and Fitz Lee as brigadiers. New regiments from North and South Carolina joined the corps. August opened with Stuart in command of some 15,000 troopers. He was ready for the new phase of maneuver against Pope on the broad fields to the west.
CHAPTER 9
Easy Victories
THE trumpeting of General Pope inspired John Mosby to new visions of guerrilla fighting in the enemy's rear. He begged Stuart for a dozen men to harass Pope's communications. Jeb refused.
"I am getting ready for active campaigning," he said. "I can't spare you the men. Wait." Mosby was determined.
"Then give me a letter to Jackson, and I will try him." Stuart gave him a rousing recommendation:
General—The bearer, John S. Mosby, late 1st Lieutenant of 1st Virginia Cavalry, is en route to scout beyond the enemy's lines toward Manassas and Fairfax. He is bold, daring, intelligent and discreet. The information he may obtain and transmit to you may be relied upon, and I have no doubt that he will soon give additional proofs of his value. Did you receive the volume of Napoleon and his Maxims that I sent you?1
Mosby left for Jackson's camp at Gordonsville to the west, but within a few miles was picked up with absurd ease by a crack Federal cavalry regiment, the Harris Light, of New York.
Mosby impressed his captors: "Sprightly appearance and conversation . . . displays no small amount of Southern bravado in his dress and manners. His gray plush hat is surmounted by a waving plume, which he tosses, as he speaks, in real Prussian style."
The enemy found Stuart's letter to Jackson and sent Mosby off to prison. It was a capture the Federal army would regret.
Mosby's adventure led Stuart into action on August fourth, for Jeb, stung by raids against the Virginia Central Railroad, took four regiments and a battery of guns toward Fredericksburg to punish the enemy. Chivalry intervened.
On the way north Captain Blackford caused a detour to Gay Mont, a plantation whose family he knew. Jeb followed him to the house, where they found women shaking with fright; the cavalry had been mistaken for Yankees, some of whom had just left the plantation.
Blackford was incensed: "Did they molest you in any way?"
"They were well behaved, Captain. But one of them did steal a watch from old Cye, our carriage driver."
While Stuart and the staff rested on the porch Blackford led twenty men in chase of the Federal party—though he first took one of the women aside and got further reassurance that the enemy raiders had not been discourteous.
Blackford overtook the culprits within a few miles and made a speech to the astounded Federals:
"Do you see those pine saplings there? Well, those ladies back there tell me you treated them with respect; if you hadn't, I would be hanging every one of you here by your halter straps. Now, one of you took a watch from an old Negro back there. Hand it up to me."
A sheepish prisoner produced a silver timepiece and Blackford galloped ahead of his prisoners to Gay Mont, restored the watch to the servant and joined the other officers in "a charming dinner" with the ladies before returning to the hot, dusty ride toward the enemy.2
Stuart took them off at dawn the next day and near Massaponax Church found a force of about 8,000 Federals moving down the plank highway. Jeb took one quick look and issued his orders. It was an impressive demonstration of his gifts for fighting cavalry as sketched by Esten Cooke:
"His instinct was unfailing, his glance that of the master ... it looked like instinct, rather than calculation—that rapid and unerring glance which took in at once every trait of the ground . . . and anticipated every movement of his adversary."
His orders at this moment were simple, but they routed the Federal force which outnumbered him almost five to one. He led most of the column after the main enemy force and sent one regiment after its wagon train in the opposite direction. The enemy coiled in confusion, unaware of their superiority. Stuart rolled the wagons to safety and retreated with 200 prisoners toward Bowling Green. The Federals gave up their expedition and fell back to Fredericksburg.
Stuart found Flora waiting for him on his return to Hanover. Many other officers' wives were on hand, and there was gaiety at Dundee. Stuart had little time to enjoy it. Jackson was having cavalry troubles with Beverly Robertson and his command, and Jeb was called out on a tour of inspection.
From Richmond General Lee watched the unfolding of a new Federal plan of invasion. McClellan still lay on the James, but transports were moving out his troops. A large army under General Burnside was at Fortress Monroe, able to strike up the James toward Richmond, or up the Potomac to reinforce Pope.
Lee had moved Jackson into Pope's front, but held the bulk of his force near Richmond until it became clear that the capital was safe from attack in the east. In the last of July, Lee reinforced Jackson with A. P. Hill's strong force; Richmond was left with about 55,000 defenders.
While Lee debated the
wisdom of shifting all his strength northward, John Mosby was freed from prison on exchange. From Fortress Monroe, Mosby had seen transports moving Burnside's army, and the captain of a ship, a Confederate sympathizer, had told him he was sailing for Washington. Mosby hurried toward Richmond, and walked the last twelve miles to reach Lee's headquarters in the August heat. He arrived "roughly dressed and unkempt," and was delayed by staff officers who tried to keep him from the commander, but finally went in to "the awful presence" of Lee.
Mosby pointed out the Federal movement on a map, but saw that Lee was not convinced. "My name is John Mosby," he said. "I was on Stuart's ride around McClellan."
Lee brightened. "Oh, I remember." He questioned Mosby with more interest and asked him where the next blow of the enemy would fall.
A courier went off with a message from Lee to Jackson, who was eighty miles northwest at Gordonsville. The commander seemed convinced that Mosby's analysis was accurate.3
On August ninth Jackson fought the vanguard of Pope's army at Slaughter Mountain, between Gordonsville and Culpeper, and in a desperate battle of three hours saw his lines broken and overrun, and 1,400 of his men shot down or captured. Only Stonewall's tactical ability had restored his lines as he led a final charge. The enemy fell back at night having lost twice as many men as Jackson.
Stonewall and the Federal General Banks staged a truce on August tenth to gather wounded and bury dead on Slaughter Mountain. Stuart reported at daybreak, a welcome sight to Jackson, who asked him to take Robertson's cavalry for a look at enemy dispositions.
Jeb first went with other officers to help arrange the truce. He saw a civilian making a sketch of the scene, his paper held on the pommel of his saddle. Stuart rode toward this man, who was the Federal reporter, George Alfred Townsend.
Townsend saw Stuart as "a lithe, indurated, severe-looking horseman" who peered at the pencil drawing.
"Are you making a sketch of our position?" Stuart asked.
"Not for any military purpose."
"For what?"
"For a newspaper engraving." "Humph!"
Stuart rode to the group of officers nearby and Townsend completed his sketch. Jeb inquired for General George Hartsuff of the Union army, an old friend. One of the bluecoats told him Hartsuff had walked off, but would soon return.
Townsend engaged Stuart in conversation: "He described the Confederate uniform to me, and laughed over some reminiscences of his raid around McClellan's army."
"That performance gave me a major-generalcy," Stuart said. "And my saddle-cloth there was sent from Baltimore as a reward, by a lady whom I never knew."
Townsend was attracted by Stuart, but said he had a quality of "airiness" and liked to talk of his prowess. This inspection was soon interrupted. Hartsuff returned, and Stuart, "with a grim smile about his mouth," rose to meet him.
"Hartsuff, God bless you, how-de-do?"
"Stuart, how are you?"
The friends talked of old times; one of the Confederates pulled out a whisky jug, and, Townsend wrote, all the generals drank to an early peace. There was some error, for Stuart never drank.
"Here's hoping you'll fall into our hands," Stuart said. "We'll treat you well at Richmond!"
"Same to you!" Hartsuff replied. They laughed.
Some of the Federal officers were ill at ease, but Stuart sat on a log "in careless posture, working his jaw till the sandy gray beard brushed his chin and became twisted in his teeth." Stuart might have been "a plain farmer jaunting home from market," Townsend thought. Stuart gave Townsend permission to pass the Rebel lines and the reporter strolled among the dead and wounded on the mountainside.4
The officers held a gay reunion for an hour or more. Stuart met the enemy generals, Samuel Crawford and George Bayard, old friends who had brought lunch baskets. They ate together, laughing over recollections of the prewar army and their exploits in the field in recent months.
Someone said, "Well, the Yankee papers claim every battle a Yankee victory, however it turns out."
Stuart laughed.
"Crawford," he said, "I'll bet you a hat the northern papers claim this a victory here." He waved a hand toward the littered field where bluecoats had been driven back in defeat.
"I'll take you up," Crawford said. "Not even the New York Herald would have the audacity to claim this."5
The truce was over.
For the rest of the day Jeb rode hard. He took Robertson's troopers at an unaccustomed pace over the dusty roads beyond Jackson's pickets and had them probing the lines of the enemy until after dark. He reported to Stonewall that his army was in danger.
Large Federal reinforcements had come up. Jackson began a retreat to Gordonsville.
Stuart had seen enough of Beverly Robertson to convince him that the veteran West Pointer, center of so many cavalry quarrels, must go. Within a month Robertson was to be transferred. He would finally go, as one of Stuart's staff noted, "much to the joy of all concerned."
This observant officer was young Channing Price, son of the family of Dundee and a kinsman of Stuart, snatched from the Richmond Howitzers and added to the staff.
Stuart had only a day in headquarters at Hanover, for he got marching orders for the bulk of his corps, and had a final dinner at Dundee with the Prices, Flora and his staff. Mrs. Stuart took von Borcke aside and wrung from him a promise to "watch over" Jeb in battle and do all possible to prevent his rash exposure.
Stuart sent Fitz Lee with the troopers to meet him near the village of Verdiersville a few miles south of the Rapidan, very near the enemy's lines. Jeb would travel by train, confer with General Lee at Orange Court House, and be ready for action when he reached Verdiersville.
The strategic situation now demanded speed. To the east McClellan had completed the evacuation of his army and was moving up the Potomac to reinforce Pope. General Lee must strike Pope before he grew too strong, and since the Federal commander was settling in a vulnerable spot between the Rapidan and the Rappahannock, the Confederate command saw a golden opportunity. Stuart's cavalry was to play an important role.
Stuart and a few staff officers boarded a train at Hanover the afternoon of August sixteenth, bound for Gordonsville. Their horses were led into a stock car, but there was no place for Jeb and his young men. The train was packed with troops, and sprawling men covered the tops of the cars. Stuart would not disturb the soldiers. He led the staff to the tender behind the locomotive, where they sat on the fuel logs, and, von Borcke wrote: "filled the time with talk and song as we rolled rapidly through the beautiful country, of which, by reason of the thick clouds of smoke that enveloped us, we could catch only occasional glimpses." It was daybreak when they reached Gordonsville, looking at each other and erupting in laughter. The engine's soot had made them as black as crows. After "many ablutions" the party went to Lee's quarters at Orange Court House, where Stuart talked with the commander-in-chief and other officers for an hour.8
There was a gay dinner at Jackson's quarters at three P.M.—a most un-Jacksonlike meal, for farmers of the region had almost filled his small tent with delicacies and there was a banquet.
There was hilarity over Stuart, for he found a gift waiting for him, sent through the lines by the Federal General Crawford, who had lost the bet made during the Slaughter Mountain truce. Stuart laughingly accepted the tribute, a new brown hat, appropriately plumed, accompanied by a copy of the New York Herald which claimed Jackson's victory for John Pope's vanguard.
Stuart soon left the table and went with von Borcke and Mosby up Clark's Mountain, where a Confederate signal station commanded the country for miles about.
The two armies were in plain sight. Von Borcke wrote: "Many thousands of tents, the thin blue smoke of their camp fires rising straight up in the still air; regiments of infantry were marching and counter-marching, and long wagon trains were moving along the distant roads."
There was more than met von Borcke's eye. General Lee had already examined the landscape, and could hardly beli
eve that the enemy would hold this position on the line of the Rapidan. Behind them, where this river flowed into the Rappahannock, was a ready-made trap. If Lee could cross the Rapidan below Pope with infantry, Stuart could cut off the enemy rear, burn the big bridge over the Rappahannock, and make Pope helpless before a major assault. From the top of the mountain Jeb could see the possibilities; like the Confederate high command, he counted the Federal army already a victim of Pope's blunder, caught between the two rivers.
Stuart had ordered Fitz Lee to bring the troopers across country, and expected to meet them near Raccoon Ford on the Rapidan, one of the crossings planned for Robert Lee's infantry. Fitz Lee had a march of only thirty-two miles from his last reported position, and should make it with ease.
Stuart rode down Clark's Mountain with his small escort about sunset of August seventeenth, toward Verdiersville, which Fitz Lee must pass on his way to the rendezvous at Raccoon Ford. Captain Norman Fitzhugh and Chiswell Dabney of Jeb's staff were sent ahead to search for the cavalry corps. Fitzhugh bore an important document—the detailed order from General R. E. Lee to Stuart outlining the plan to trap Pope.
The party rode into Verdiersville after midnight. The village was quiet. Fitzhugh reported that there was no sign of Fitz Lee and the corps; something had gone awry. Stuart sent Fitzhugh through the little town in the direction the troopers must come, and with his staff turned into the gate of the first farmhouse he saw, the home of a family named Rhodes. Most of the officers made their beds in the garden, but Stuart spread his scarlet-lined cloak on the porch of the house and fell asleep with his haversack and his new hat beside him.