University of Virginia Library

1. I.

Who that went with Stuart on his famous “Ride around
McClellan” in the summer of 1862, just before the bloody
battles of the Chickahominy, will ever forget the fun, the frolic,
the romance—and the peril too—of that fine journey? Thinking
of the gay ride now, when a century seems to have swept
between that epoch and the present, I recall every particular,
live over every emotion. Once more I hear the ringing laugh of
Stuart, and see the keen flash of the blue eyes under the black
feather of the prince of cavaliers!

If the reader will follow me he shall see what took place on
this rapid ride, witness some incidents of this first and king of
raids. The record will be that of an eye-witness, and the personal
prominence of the writer must be excused as inseparable
from the narrative. I need not dwell upon the “situation” in
June, 1862. All the world knows that, at that time, McClellan
had advanced with his magnificent army of 156,000 men, to the
banks of the Chickahominy, and pushing across, had fought on
the last day of May the bloody but indecisive battle of the Seven
Pines. On the right it was a Confederate, on the left a Federal
success; and General McClellan drew back, marshalled his great
lines, darkening both the northern and southern banks of the
Chickahominy, and prepared for a more decisive blow at the
Confederate capital, whose spires were in sight. Before him,

however, lay the Southern army, commanded now by Lee, who
had succeeded Johnston, wounded in the fight of “Seven Pines.”
The moment was favourable for a heavy attack by Lee. Jackson
had just driven before him the combined forces of Shields
and Fremont, and on the bloody field of Port Republic ended
the great campaign of the Valley at one blow. The veterans of
his command could now be concentrated on the banks of the
Chickahominy against McClellan; a combined advance of the
forces under Lee and Jackson might save the capital. But how
should the attack be made? In council of war, General Stuart
told me he proposed an assault upon General McClellan's left
wing from the direction of James River, to cut him off from that
base. But this suggestion was not adopted; the defences were
regarded as too strong. It was considered a better plan to attack
the Federal army on the north bank of the Chickahominy, drive
it from its works, and try the issue in the fields around Cold
Harbour. The great point was to ascertain if this was practicable,
and especially to find what defences, if any, the enemy had
to guard the approach to their right wing. If these were slight,
the attack could be made with fair prospects of success. Jackson
could sweep around while Lee assailed the lines near Mechanicsville;
then one combined assault would probably defeat the
Federal force. To find the character of the enemy's works
beyond the stream—his positions and movements—General
Stuart was directed to take a portion of his cavalry, advance as
far as Old Church, if practicable, and then be guided by circumstances.
Such were the orders with which Stuart set out about
moonrise on the night, I think, of June 12, upon this dangerous
expedition.

As the young cavalier mounted his horse on that moonlight
night he was a gallant figure to look at. The gray coat buttoned
to the chin; the light French sabre balanced by the pistol in its
black holster; the cavalry boots above the knee, and the brown
hat with its black plume floating above the bearded features,
the brilliant eyes, and the huge moustache, which curled with
laughter at the slightest provocation—these made Stuart the perfect
picture of a gay cavalier, and the spirited horse he rode

seemed to feel that he carried one whose motto was to “do or
die.” I chanced to be his sole companion as he galloped over
the broad field near his headquarters, and the glance of the blue
eyes of Stuart at that moment was as brilliant as the lightning
itself.

Catching up with his column of about 1500 horsemen, and
two pieces of horse-artillery under Colonels William H. F. Lee,
Fitz Lee, and Will. T. Martin, of Mississippi—cavalier as brave
as ever drew sabre—Stuart pushed on northward as if going to
join Jackson, and reaching the vicinity of Taylorsville, near
Hanover Junction, went that night into bivonac. He embraced
the opportunity, after midnight, of riding with Colonel W. H.
F. Lee to “Hickory Hill,” the residence of Colonel Williams
Wickham—afterward General Wickham—who had been recently
wounded and paroled. Here he went to sleep in his
chair after talking with Colonel Wickham, narrowly escaped
capture from the enemy near, and returning before daylight,
advanced with his column straight upon Hanover Court-House.
Have you ever visited this picturesque spot, reader? We looked
upon it on that day of June—upon its old brick court-house,
where Patrick Henry made his famous speech against the persons,
its ancient tavern, its modest roofs, the whole surrounded
by the fertile fields waving with golden grain—all this we looked
at with unusual interest. For in this little bird's nest, lost as it
were in a sea of rippling wheat and waving foliage, some “Yankee
cavalry” had taken up their abode; their horses stood
ready saddled in the street, and this dark mass we now gazed at
furtively from behind a wooden knoll, in rear of which Stuart's
column was drawn up ready to move at the word. Before he
gave the signal, the General dispatched Colonel Fitz Lee round
to the right, to flank and cut off the party. But all at once the
scouts in front were descried by the enemy; shots resounded;
and seeing that his presence was discovered, Stuart gave the
word, and swept at a thundering gallop down the hill. The
startled “blue birds,” as we used to call our Northern friends,
did not wait; the squadron on picket at the court-house, numbering
some one hundred and fifty men, hastily got to horse—

[ILLUSTRATION]

“STUART'S RIDE AROUND McCLELLAN.—Page 177
The gay chase continued until we reached the Tottapotamoi.”

[Description: 521EAF. Illustration page, which depicts a group of soldiers on horseback stopping in front of a river that is lit up by the full moon.]

then presto! they disappear in a dense cloud of dust from which
echo some parting salutes from their carbines. Stuart pressed
on rapidly, took the road to Old Church, and near a place called
Hawes' Shop, in a thickly wooded spot, was suddenly charged
himself. It did not amount to much, and seemed rather an
attempt at reconnoissance. A Federal officer at the head of a
detachment came on at full gallop, very nearly ran into the head
of our column, and then seeing the dense mass of gray coats,
fired his pistol, wheeled short about, and went back at full speed,
with his detachment.

Stuart had given, in his ringing voice, the order: “Form
fours! draw sabre! charge!” and now the Confederate people
pursued at headlong speed, uttering shouts and yells sufficiently
loud to awaken the seven sleepers! The men were evidently
exhilarated by the chase, the enemy just keeping near enough
to make an occasional shot practicable. A considerable number
of the Federal cavalrymen were overtaken and captured, and
these proved to belong to the company in which Colonel Fitz
Lee had formerly been a lieutenant. I could not refrain from
laughter at the pleasure which “Colonel Fitz”—whose motto
should be “toujours gai”—seemed to take in inquiring after his
old cronies. “Was Brown alive? where was Jones? and was
Robinson sergeant still?” Colonel Fitz never stopped until he
found out everything. The prisoners laughed as they recognised
him. Altogether, reader, the interview was the most
friendly imaginable.

The gay chase continued until we reached the Tottapotamoi, a
sluggish stream, dragging its muddy waters slowly between
rush-clad banks, beneath drooping trees; and this was crossed
by a small rustic bridge. The line of the stream was entirely
undefended by works; the enemy's right wing was unprotected;
Stuart had accomplished the object of his expedition, and afterward
piloted Jackson over this very same road. But to continue
the narrative of his movements. The picket at the bridge
had been quickly driven in, and disappeared at a gallop, and on
the high ground beyond, Colonel W. H. F. Lee, who had taken
the front, encountered the enemy. The force appeared to be

about a regiment, and they were drawn up in line of battle in
the fields to receive our attack. It came without delay. Placing
himself at the head of his horsemen, Colonel Lee swept forward
at the pas de charge, and with shouts the two lines came
together. The shock was heavy, and the enemy—a portion of
the old United States Regulars, commanded by Captain Royal—
stood their ground bravely, meeting the attack with the sabre.
Swords clashed, pistols and carbines banged, yells, shouts, cheers
resounded; then the Federal line was seen to give back, and
take to headlong flight. They were pursued with ardour, and
the men were wild with this—to many of them—their first fight.
But soon after all joy disappeared from their faces, at sight of a
spectacle which greeted them. Captain Latanè, of the Essex
cavalry, had been mortally wounded in the charge, and as the
men of his company saw him lying bloody before them, many a
bearded face was wet with tears. The scene at his grave afterward
became the subject of Mr. Washington's picture, “The
Burial of Latanè;” and in his general order after the expedition,
Stuart called upon his command to take for their watchword in
the future “Avenge Latanè!” Captain Royal, the Federal commandant,
had also been badly wounded, and many of his force
killed. I remember passing a Dutch cavalryman who was
writhing with a bullet through the breast, and biting and tearing
up the ground. He called for water, and I directed a servant
at a house near by to bring him some. The last I saw of him,
a destitute cavalryman was taking off his spurs as he was dying.
War is a hard trade.

Fitz Lee immediately pressed on and burst into the camp
near Old Church, where large supplies of boots, pistols, liquors,
and other commodities were found. These were speedily appropriated
by the men, and the tents were set on fire amid loud
shouts. The spectacle was animating; but a report having
got abroad that one of the tents contained powder, the vicinity
thereof was evacuated in almost less than no time. We were
now at Old Church, where Stuart was to be guided in his further
movements by circumstances. I looked at him; he was evidently
reflecting. In a moment he turned round to me and said:

“Tell Fitz Lee to come along, I'm going to move on with my
column.” These words terminated my doubt, and I understood
in an instant that the General had decided on the bold and
hazardous plan of passing entirely round McClellan's army.

“I think the quicker we move now the better,” I said, with a
laugh.

“Right,” was Stuart's reply; “tell the column to move on at
a trot.”

So at a rapid trot the column moved.