Jeb Stuart, The Last Cavalier

by Burke Davis

  President Davis, with his usual anxiety for Richmond, was uncertain whether the capital was safe for the winter, despite Lee's presence in Northern Virginia and McClellan's position in Maryland. There was, for example, little to prevent another water-borne attack down the Potomac and against The Peninsula.

  Lee felt that Stuart, given a glimpse of Union lines of communication through Maryland and Pennsylvania, would be able to interpret the enemy's plans. If, in addition, he could destroy the Cumberland Valley Railroad's bridge near Chambersburg, the expedition would justify its risks. With that bridge removed the Federals would be left with the single line of the Baltimore & Ohio for movement of men and supplies in that region.

  The horsemen were to ride almost into the face of McClellan's army; they must cross rivers, canals, railroads and turnpikes, and on their return would be in danger of entrapment because of a great network of telegraph lines.

  Yet the squadrons met at Darkesville as if bound for a holiday and through the afternoon moved casually toward the Potomac. Stuart met Hampton and his command on the riverbank. All was quiet, but men whispered that an outpost across the river was screened by woods, with a Federal picket nearby. Somehow the crossing must be made without spreading the alarm.

  Jeb slept with his staff in a straw rick in an open field. There was not long to sleep that night.4

  The column stirred at four A.M. in a heavy fog, and men mounted without fires or breakfast. Stuart waited with the rest as Hampton's advance moved to clear the way. For an hour or more there was no sound but the rushing of the river.

  Unseen by the enemy, thirty men from the ioth Virginia and the 2nd South Carolina waded the river above the ford. A burst of firing broke the silence, and Colonel Calbraith Butler saw from the ford a winking of carbines and pistols. He sent the advance squadron into the water. Horses splashed across.

  Just north of the river crossing a party of the 12th Illinois Cavalry had camped around the ruined stone walls of old Fort Frederick, a landmark of the Indian wars. Captain Thomas Logan, the commander, was at an old ironworks, Green Spring Furnace, when, at five thirty A.M., a civilian reported to him: Rebels crossing the river, thousands of Rebels.

  Logan had but a handful, but he got his reserves in the saddle and sent a message downstream by a courier. In five minutes he had men in line of battle.

  At five forty there was firing, but Logan simply watched as daylight grew stronger and Rebels trotted past his position. He could not put a party on their trail because of his weakness, but he had an eyeful to report:

  An estimated 2,500 Confederate horsemen, eight pieces of artillery [that was Pelham's four-gun battery, looming large in the fog, a few wagons and ambulances. The Rebels took the road north

  STUART'S 1800 RAID CHAMBERSBURG October 10-12, 1862

  toward Mercersburg. Logan's news soon reached the first big Federal post downriver, and word of Stuart's raid was out.

  Later there would be querulous echoes in the Federal documents, one of them the stout claim of Logan: "Without a single exception the men of my command behaved admirably. We mounted in the morning without breakfast and remained in the saddle until midnight without eating, yet there was no murmur. . . ."

  Stuart's big column had brushed them aside, and was already at full speed.

  Telegraph keys chattered in dozens of Federal posts from Washington westward by now.

  At eight A.M. the riders crossed the turnpike from Hagerstown to Hancock, and Stuart was told that a Union brigade of 5,000 had passed the point an hour earlier.

  Fog still drifted about the column as Jeb led his men into a little-used road toward Mercersburg. His guide was now Captain B. S. White, a Marylander who knew the terrain. As the column jangled on, a few of Butler's Carolinians surprised a Federal signal station and took its men.

  There was a halt on the Pennsylvania line at ten A.M., and Stuart galloped along the road, halting before each division to hear his orders read. The troopers were instructed to impress horses for the army, to leave ranks only with an officer, to refrain from personal pillaging. The order ended:

  We are now in enemy country. Hold yourselves ready for attack or defense, and behave with no other thought than victory. If any man cannot abide cheerfully by the order and the spirit of these instructions, he will be returned to Virginia with a guard of honor.

  The troopers burst into cheers and the march was resumed. Only the 600 men of the middle division were assigned to round up horses, and these turned into by-roads. Clouds still threatened rain, and farmers were in their barns, most of them threshing wheat, with fat draught horses turning the machines. Confederates broke in, and excited Dutchmen sputtered helplessly as riders drove off the fine

  Norman and Belgian horses, harness and all, to pull Stuart's wagons and guns. Many farmers could not believe that Rebels were among them, and thought they were Federal soldiers sent to harass those suspected of disloyalty. Many of them yelled after the Confederates, "I'm just as good a Union man as any of you!"

  There were pauses while soldiers raided the houses, too. Stuart said he observed no pillaging, but Blackford saw it on every hand. Riders ate in the saddle. Some had roasted turkeys, hams and beef strapped to the saddles; haversacks bulged with rolls of butter, crocks of cream and loaves of fresh bread. They rode northward through occasional showers. Only once or twice during the day was gunfire heard by the central division of the column.

  A few of Butler's soft-spoken South Carolinians led the way into Mercersburg. They crowded into a store and refitted themselves in shoes and boots, stunning the merchant with payment in Confederate scrip, assuring him that the Washington government would make good the damages.

  The main column passed Mercersburg about noon. Here Blackford was told that a family had an accurate map of Franklin County, and he entered a house in search of it, beset by a bevy of scolding women. He pushed past them to a framed map on a wall, cut it out with his knife and retreated through the "rather rough specimens," who reviled him as he left.5

  Near this town an old woman at the roadside asked excitedly for news from the Rebels. The waggish troopers told her an involved tale of the destruction of the Confederate army. "We're on our way back from whippin' 'em now," they said.

  The old woman beamed. "Would any of you good Union boys like some good brandy? It's good and old. I've been saving it for Union soldiers."

  There were volunteers, and many riders went off with canteens full of her brandy. One of them called to her, "We're Jeff Davis' guerrilla boys." The graycoats laughed at the consternation on her face as she dropped her spectacles and threw her hands over her head.

  The command halted five miles north of the town to feed the horses. Price wrote: "We took corn right from the field, having no trouble about a quartermaster buying forage." By this time rain fell in torrents, and Stuart, like many of his riders, wore an oilcloth coverall as he rode in the downpour.

  Major Henry McClellan reported continuing thefts. One lean private of the 9th Virginia entered a house defended only by women and young children and growled, upon being told there was no food, "I've never eaten human flesh. But I think I'm hungry enough to try one of them babies, if there's nothing else to eat." The household, McClellan said, quickly spread a meal for the marauder.

  Soon after dark Stuart saw the lights of Chambersburg. He had come forty miles with scarcely a sign of opposition. The column halted and Pelham set up guns to command the town in case of resistance. The front ranks heard drums in Chambersburg and saw figures darting about the streets. Hampton, who led the vanguard, sent in a lieutenant and nine men under a flag of truce to demand surrender. The column waited just outside town.

  The Confederates met some citizens, among them Colonel A. K. McClure, a newspaper editor and Republican politician. He sketched the leader of Hampton's squad as "a clever-looking 'butternut,' dripping wet, without any mark of rank, bearing a dirty white cloth on a little stick. . . . He refused to give his name, or the name of the general c
ommanding, and he could not state on what terms they would accept a surrender."

  Confederates had hardly reached the town square before the local provost marshal got off a telegraph message of alarm to Governor Andrew Curtin, who had been directing from Harrisburg a daylong effort to surround the Rebels. It was the final telegram of the night, for wires were soon cut.

  McClure and two or three others rode through the rain on the dark turnpike to the Confederate main body. They were halted before dim mounted figures, one of which was General Hampton. McClure explained that the town was undefended. Hampton replied "in a respectful and soldier-like manner" that resistance would be futile; he wished to avoid loss of life and property. His soldiers would take only what the column needed. Wounded soldiers would be paroled, and only U.S. property would be seized or destroyed. After a brief parley the column moved into town. Colonel McClure was too late to save ten fine horses in his stables, but outraced the thirsty Rebels to his liquor stock. He drained two kegs of old rye on the ground and broke every bottle in the place.

  By now telegraph operators in distant towns were aware of the progress of the raid, since Chambersburg's line was dead. About the time Stuart rode into the town square, Governor Curtin was telegraphing from Harrisburg to Secretary of War Stanton in Washington:

  THE PEOPLE HAVE SURRENDERED CHAMBERSBURG

  Stuart ordered Colonel Butler to empty the vault of the town's bank, but found that a fleeing official had taken the money to safety. The courtly manners of Butler's squad of plunderers so impressed the bank's cashier that he had his wife and servants bring food to the raiders. Blackford was surprised that people of the town came to their doors as Confederates rode by, speaking courteously to the troopers. Stuart took no chances. He posted the men of Jones and Hampton on one side of town and Rooney Lee's on the other. Rather grandly, he named Hampton "military governor" for the overnight stay.

  A party under Jones galloped off in the dark to destroy the bridge which was a major object of the expedition, but the structure over the Conococheague was built of iron, and defied their torches and axes. They returned to report complete failure. The raiders could do no more.

  Stuart settled for the night in a small tollhouse at the edge of town. He had the mulatto, Bob, make him a pot of coffee and stretched on the kitchen floor with his staff. By now the rain was hard and steady, and Stuart could not sleep. Three times during the night he rose to shake Captain Smith:

  "Won't all this rain make the rivers rise before we can get back? Can we ford the Potomac in this weather?"

  The patient guide assured him the column could ride back down the Pennsylvania and Maryland slopes as fast as the flood waters ran, but Stuart was not content, and tossed fitfully through the rainy night. Heavy-eyed guards squatted outside, and headquarters horses stood saddled until dawn.

  Colonel McClure spent a remarkable night nearby with his Confederate guests.

  "They had my best cornfield beside them, and their horses fared well.... One entered the yard, and after a profound bow, politely asked for a few coals to start a fire." That was the beginning. The raiders did not use McClure's woodpile, as he suggested, but tore down his fences for kindling.

  Confederate courtesy amused the Colonel. Squad after squad trooped to his pump, politely asking permission for their every move. No soldier crossed his yard without this formality.

  At one A.M. a few Rebel officers came on the porch to ask for coffee and bread. They saw a fire blazing on the hearth of the library, and, shivering, asked permission to enter. McClure ended with the house full of them, chattering about the war, their generals, the Yankees, battles—everything except their movements of tomorrow. Some were men of culture, McClure discovered. When he found courage to tell them he was a Republican, they thanked him for his candor. They drank his coffee with great relish, said they had had none for weeks, and that it brought ten dollars a pound in the South. They asked for more and brought friends to drink until the supply had vanished. More squads came, and soon the tea, too, was gone. In the meantime the kitchen filled with raiders. McClure thought he fed more than a hundred: "All, however, politely asked permission to enter, and behaved with entire propriety. They did not make a single rude or profane remark."

  McClure's fine kinnikinnick tobacco was taken, but the Confederates did not smoke until their host assured them that it was permitted. McClure was relieved to hear Rebel buglers blow Boots and Saddles at four o'clock. His guests went into the town.

  McClure followed and saw Stuart in the square, surrounded by his staff and command: "General Stuart is of medium size, has a keen eye, and wears immense sandy whiskers and mustache. His demeanor to our people was that of a humane soldier."

  But McClure was put on his guard by a Confederate, one Hugh Logan, a native of Franklin County who had deserted to the South. They met in the street.

  "You're not safe on your parole," Logan said.

  "Why not? They gave me their promise."

  "Hampton gave it to you. And if you are arrested and can reach Hampton, he will parole you, for he's a gentleman. But Jeb Stuart wants you, and Fm not sure he would let you go on parole."

  Most of the town's stores were closed, and were not disturbed. McClure noted that only one was entered by force. Stuart's provost guard arrested several raiders who had taken private property. McClure himself was not molested.6

  But as McClure observed this admirable Confederate discipline, Channing Price helped himself: "I went into town to get some plunder. I got to the Government depot just as operations commenced, and supplied myself with a nice black overcoat, a pair of blue pants, one dozen pair of woolen socks, a pair of boots and various other little items, as much as I could carry."

  A Gettysburg newspaper correspondent sketched the scene as troopers selected their loot:

  "The whole town was converted into one vast dressing room. On every hotel porch, at every corner, on the greater portion of the street doorsteps, might be seen Rebel cavalry donning Yankee uniforms, and throwing their own worn out and faded garments into the street. Each took as many coats, hats, and pairs of pants as he could conveniently handle."7

  Price rode after the column, which was already on the road toward Gettysburg, in a direction surprising even to the troopers. In Chambersburg the rear guard cleared civilians from around the depots, which they set afire. They burned machine shops and stores of supplies, some 6,000 firearms, and a warehouse of ammunition. The morning resounded with explosions. Price reckoned the damage in the town at about $1,000,000.

  The moving column was a strange sight, for many of the men wore blue Union overcoats against the chill, and there was a motley array of garments. Stuart rode between the vanguard and the main body, watching as the raiders collected horses and hostages—the mayors and other officials of small towns. He spoke to Blackford with an unusual earnestness:

  "Blackford, I want to explain to you why I took this route for the return. And if I don't survive, I want you to vindicate my memory." He drew out a map.

  "You see, the enemy will think I will try to recross the river above, out west somewhere, because it is nearer to me and farther for them. They will have strong guards at every ford and scouting parties will be looking for us, so that they can concentrate at any point. They will never expect me to move three times that distance and cross at a ford below them and so close to their main army, and so they won't be prepared for us down there to the east."

  Stuart looked to Blackford with an expression of concern.

  "Now, do you understand what I mean?"

  "Perfectly."

  "Don't you think I'm right?"

  "You are. They won't think of it. And if anything should happen to you, and I get through, I'll see that the army understands."

  Blackford noted that Stuart's eyes were filled with tears as he left him to speed the march of the column.

  Jeb led the men to within seven miles of Gettysburg, to the village Cashtown, back into the road toward Hagerstown for a mile
or so, to confuse pursuit, and then turned southward towards Emmitsburg, Maryland. There was a brief halt to feed the horses near Cashtown, and here Stuart took his only rest of the long ride home, leaning against a tree to sleep for less than half an hour. The column was in motion again before Blackford finished feeding his horse, and he thoughtfully broke up green corn cobs and gave them to his ravenous mount throughout the long day of October eleventh.

  South of them, along the Potomac, a vast Federal net was spread for the raiders. Early last night Henry Halleck, the Federal general-in-chief, had ordered McClellan to exert every effort to trap the Rebels: "Not a man should be permitted to return to Virginia," the commander telegraphed.

  McClellan had replied late in the night, while Stuart lay restlessly on the floor of the Chambersburg tollhouse:

  Every disposition has been made to cut off the retreat of the enemy's cavalry.

  This Saturday morning, as Stuart neared the Pennsylvania-Maryland line, McClellan recovered his poise and telegraphed more fully to Washington:

  I have made such disposition of troops along the river that I think we will intercept the Rebels in their return. All of my available cavalry was ordered in pursuit last night, but as yet nothing has been heard from it.

  Cox's division is loaded in cars at Hancock, with cavalry well out toward the Pennsylvania line, and if the Rebels attempt to cross below Hancock, I have infantry at or near all the different fords.

  I have six regiments of cavalry now up the river between Hancock and Cumberland. All of these troops have been ordered to keep a sharp lookout for the return of the Rebels....

  I have given every order necessary to insure the capture or destruction of these forces, and I hope we may be able to teach them a lesson they will not soon forget.