2. II.
The night of Sunday, March 8th, was chosen as favorable to
the expedition. The weather was terrible—the night as dark as
pitch—and it was raining steadily. With a detachment of
twenty-nine men Captain Mosby set out on his raid.
He made his approach from the direction of Aldie. Proceeding
down the Little River turnpike, the main route from the
Court-House to the mountains, he reached a point within about
three miles of Chantilly. Here, turning to the right, he crossed
the Frying Pan road about half-way between Centreville and the
turnpike, keeping in the woods, and leaving Centreville well to
the right. He was now advancing in the tringle which is made
by the Little River and Warrenton turnpikes and the Frying
Pan road. Those who are familiar with the country there will
easily understand the object of this proceeding. By thus cutting
through the triangle, Captain Mosby avoided all pickets, scouting
parties, and the enemy generally, who would only keep a look-out
for intruders on the main roads.
Advancing in this manner through the woods, pierced with
devious and uncertain paths only, which the dense darkness
scarcely enabled them to follow, the partisan and his little band
finally struck into the Warrenton road, between Centreville and
Fairfax, at a point about midway between the two places. One
dauger had thus been successfully avoided—a challenge from
parties of cavalry on the Little River road, or discovery by the
force posted at Centreville. That place was now in their rear—
they had “snaked” around it and its warders; but the perils of
the enterprise had scarcely commenced. Fairfax Court-House
was still about four miles distant, and it was girdled with cavalry
and infantry. Every approach was guarded, and the attempt to
enter the place seemed desperate, but the Captain determined to
essay it.
Advancing resolutely, he came within a mile and a half of the
place, when he found the way barred by a heavy force. Directly
in his path were the infantry camps of which he had been notified,
and all advance was checked in that direction. The Captain
did not waver in his purpose, however. Making a detour to the
right, and leaving the enemy's camp far to his left, he struck into
the road leading from Fairfax southward to the railroad.
This avenue was guarded like the rest, but by a picket only;
and the Captain knew thoroughly how to deal with these. Before
the sleepy and unsuspicious pickets were aware of their danger,
they found pistols presented at their heads, with the option
of surrender or death presented to them. They surrendered
immediately, were taken in charge, and without further ceremony
Captain Mosby and his band entered the town.
From that moment the utmost silence, energy, and rapidity of
action were requisite. The Captain had designed reaching the
Court-House at midnight, but had been delayed two hours by
mistaking his road in the pitch darkness. It was now two o'clock
in the morning; and an hour and a half, at the very utmost, was
left him to finish his business and escape before daylight. If
morning found him anywhere in that vicinity he knew that his
retreat would be cut off, and the whole party killed or captured
—and this would have spoiled the whole affair. He accordingly
made his dispositions rapidly, enjoined complete silence, and set
to work in earnest. The small band was divided into detachments,
with special duties assigned to each. Two or three of
these detachments were sent to the public stables which the fine
horses of the General and his staff officers occupied, with instructions
to carry them off without noise. Another party was sent to
Colonel Wyndham's headquarters to take him prisoner. Another
to Colonel Johnson's, with similar orders.
Taking six men with him, Captain Mosby, who proceeded
upon sure information, went straight to the headquarters of
Brigadier-General Stoughton.
The Captain entered his chamber without much ceremony, and
found him asleep in bed.
Making his way toward the bed, in the dark, the partisan
shook him suddenly by the shoulder.
“What is that?” growled the General.
“Get up quick, I want you,” responded the Captain.
“Do you know who I am?” cried the Brigadier, sitting up in
bed, with a scowl. “I will have you arrested, sir!”
“Do you know who I am?” retorted the Captain, shortly.
“Who are you?”
“Did you ever hear of Mosby?”
“Yes! Tell me, have you caught the—rascal!”
“No, but he has caught you!”
And the Captain chuckled.
“What does all this mean, sir!” cried the furious officer.
“It means, sir,” the Captain replied, “that Stuart's cavalry are
in possession of this place, and you are my prisoner. Get up and
come along, or you are a dead man!”
Bitter as was this order, the General was compelled to obey,
and the partisan mounted him, and placed him under guard.
His staff and escort were captured without difficulty, but two of
the former, owing to the darkness and confusion, subsequently
made their escape.
Meanwhile the other detachments were at work. They entered
the stables, and led out fifty-eight very fine horses, with their
accoutrements, all belonging to officers, and took a number of
prisoners. Hundreds of horses were left, for fear of encumbering
the retreat.
The other parties were less successful. Colonel Wyndham had
gone down to Washington on the preceding day; but his A. A.
General and Aide-de-camp were made prisoners. Colonel Johnson
having received notice of the presence of the party, succeeded in
making his escape.
It was now about half-past three in the morning, and it behoved
Captain Mosby, unless he relished being killed or captured,
to effect his retreat. Time was barely left him to get out
of the lines of the enemy before daylight, and none was to be
lost.
He had intended to destroy the valuable quartermaster, commissary,
and sutler's stores in the place, but these were found to
be in the houses, which it would have been necessary to burn;
and even had the proceeding been advisable, time was wanting.
The band was encumbered by three times as many horses and
prisoners as it numbered men, and day was approaching. The
captain accordingly made his dispositions rapidly for retiring.
The prisoners, thirty-five in number, were as follows:
Brig.-Gen. E. H. Stoughton.
Baron R. Wordener, an Austrian, and Aide de-camp to Col.
Wyndham.
Capt. A. Barker, 5th New York Cavalry.
Col. Wyndham's A. A. General.
Thirty prisoners, chiefly of the 18th Pennsylvania and 1st
Ohio Cavalry, and the telegraph operator at the place.
These were placed upon the captured horses, and the band set
out in silence on their return.
Captain Mosby took the same road which had conducted him
into the Court-H use: that which led to Fairfax Station. But
this was only to deceive the enemy as to his line of retreat, if
they attempted pursuit. He soon turned off, and pursued the
same road which he had followed in advancing, coming out on
the Warrenton turnpike, about a mile and a half from the
town. This time, finding no guards on the main road, he continued
to follow the turnpike until he came to the belt of woods
which crosses the road about half a mile from Centreville. At
this point of the march, one of the prisoners, Captain Barker,
no doubt counting on aid from the garrison, made a desperate
effort to effect his escape. He broke from his guards, dashed
out of the ranks, and tried hard to reach the fort. He was
stopped, however, by a shot from one of the party, and returned
again, yielding himself a prisoner.
Again turning to the right, the Captain proceeded on his way,
passing directly beneath the frowning fortifications. He passed
so near them that he distinctly saw the bristling muzzles of the
cannon in the embrasures, and was challenged by the sentinel
on the redoubt. Making no reply he pushed on rapidly, for the
day was dawning, and no time was to be lost; passed within a
hundred yards of the infantry pickets without molestation, swam
Cub Run, and again came out on the Warrenton turnpike at
Groveton.
He had passed through all his enemies, flanked Centreville,
was on the open road to the South: he was safe!
