University of Virginia Library

69. LXIX.
AN ADVENTURE OF STUART'S.

If the reader will now lose sight of all these great events—the
mighty stepping-stones in the history of a nation—and consent
to fix his attention upon the personal movements of the humble
author of these memoirs, I will conduct him to a distance from
the embattled hosts fast gathering on the banks of the Rapidan,
and, descending that stream, penetrate with him the wooded
country which stretches around the little village of Verdiersville.

I was the bearer of a message from General Jackson to General
Stuart, then concentrating his cavalry on the right flank of the
army; and I expected to find the commander of the cavalry
somewhere in the vicinity of Verdiersville.

Good fortune attended me. I had scarcely reached the point
where the Richmond or Antioch Church road debouches into the
main highway below Verdiersville, when I heard a voice in the
woods trolling lustily a camp-song, of which the jolly burden
was—

—and in a few moments Stuart appeared at the edge of the woods
with his staff, coming from the south.

I have outlined Colonel Jeb. Stuart, of the First Virginia

Cavalry, with his blue blouse-coat of the U. S. Army, his Zouave
cap, and floating “havelock.” Let me now give some idea of
Major-General Jeb. Stuart, commanding the cavalry of General
Lee's army.

Imagine a figure stouter and more athletic than before; a face
fuller and ruddier, and decorated with a longer and heavier mustache
and beard; an eye more laughing, and a voice even more
ringing and sonorous. This figure was clad in a gray “double-breasted”
jacket, worn open, with the edges folded back and
buttoned on each side—the sleeves heavily braided—and with a
buff collar ornamented with three stars encircled by a wreath.
A gray waistcoat reached to the throat; top-boots with shining
brass spurs extended to the knees; and over the high forehead,
with its clear blue eyes, drooped a brown felt hat, looped up
with a golden star, and decorated with a black feather.

At the side of this martial figure, which advanced with one
leg thrown carelessly over the pommel of the saddle, rattled a
light French sabre, balanced on the opposite side by a pistol in a
black holster; and, as he came, the gay chevalier played negligently
with one of his long buckskin gauntlets, keeping time to
his song.

rung out clear and joyous, echoing through the woods; and then
the quick glance of Stuart—he never forgot anybody—had
evidently recognized me.

“Hey!” was his laughing exclamation; “here's our wandering
cavalier! How are you, Surry, and how did you leave old Stonewall?”
[1]

“Perfectly well, General, and thirsting for the blood of
Pope.”

The next moment I had exchanged a grasp of the hand with
the General, and my friends on the staff—only a portion of
whom were present.

“Who would have expected to find you at this out-of-the-way
place?” exclaimed the gay commander. “Some of these days

you'll be ambushed by the Yankee cavalry, and then good-by
to Surry!”

“I am not afraid. What news, General?”

“None—do you bring any?”

“Only a message from General Jackson.” And I delivered
it.

“All right,” was Stuart's response. “I had thought of that,
and Fitz Lee is ordered to this point. I expect him to arrive to-night.
Is the army moving?”

“It will advance to-morrow.”

“Good!—the cavalry will be in place! And now come on,
and tell me all the news. You can't go back to-night. That
old house would be a good head-quarters,” he added, pointing to
a deserted tenement at the mouth of the Antioch road, “but I
believe I will go on to Verdiersville. Come, Surry!”

And resuming his sonorous advice to “Jine the cavalry!” the
General rode on, with the staff and myself.

Passing the little skirt of pine-trees where, I remember, he
afterward had his quarters—al fresco and tentless, in the cold
December of 1863, and when General Lee, riding by, said,
“What a hardy soldier!” as he saw Stuart thus bivouacking
“under the canopy,” in the chill nights—we pushed on, and
about nightfall reached the little village of Verdiersville.

“I am going to stop here,” said Stuart, drawing rein before a
small deserted house, the first on the right as you enter the village
from the west. “I ought to hear from Fitz Lee very soon
now.”

“This is the rendezvous?”

“Yes, and in the morning I shall be in the saddle, ready
to advance—if the Yankees don't make a descent and capture us
to-night.”

“Have they any force in this vicinity?”

“Two or three regiments. They are scouting along the
Rapidan at this moment, and may take a fancy to prowl in this
direction.”

“And you have no force near?”

“None within ten miles.”

“My dear General,” I said, laughing, “don't you think there
is some danger that the Confederacy will be deprived of your
valuable services?”

“Well,” was his laughing reply, “we can't guard against all
the chances of war.”

“You ought at least to have a picket out.”

“True, but I have only one or two couriers with me, and they
are as tired as I am.”

“And you are going to sleep here, without even a vedette?”

“I'll risk it.”

And lightly throwing himself from his horse, the gay cavalier
led him into the small yard in front of the house, threw the
bridle over the palings, and, taking from his satchel some ham
and biscuits, invited me to sup with him.

The staff imitated him; and when the meal was finished
Stuart rose.

“It is singular that I don't hear from Fitz Lee,” he said, and,
turning to Major Fitzhugh of his staff, he added:

`Major, I wish you would take a courier, and ride back to
the mouth of the Richmond road, and look out for Fitz Lee.
Tell him to move on, and join me here without delay.”

The Major promptly obeyed, and was soon out of sight,
followed by the courier. We were not to see him again for
many a long day.

“Come, Surry,” Stuart then said, “let us get some sleep. I
have been riding all day.”

And, spreading his riding cape upon the little porch in front
of the house, he almost instantly fell asleep. I wrapped myself
in my blanket, and lay down beside him.

At dawn, the sound of steps on the porch woke me,
and, rising, I saw the General walking bareheaded toward the
gate.

“Strange I don't hear from Fitz Lee!” he said. “What can
be the matter?”

At that moment, the distant tramp of cavalry was heard,
approaching from the direction of the Richmond road.

“Ah! here he is at last!” exclaimed the General, as the

head of the column appeared through the pines beyond the
hill.

Then, as he turned, Stuart suddenly looked again in the direction
of the column. It was impossible to make out the figures
clearly, but some instinct seemed to warn him that all was not
right.

“Captain,” he said to an officer near, “ride down the road
and see what that column is.”

The officer mounted, and spurred toward it.

“It must be Fitz!” muttered Stuart, “and yet”—

At that moment shots were heard in front. The officer who
had ridden in the direction of the approaching cavalry came back
at a gallop, pursued by a detachment in blue uniforms, firing at
him as he ran; and the mystery was solved.

The column was not Confederate, but Federal cavalry; and
in an instant they were thundering forward, and had nearly
reached the house.

There was no time to parley or to hesitate. The pursuers came
on with loud shouts of “Halt! halt!” and in an instant were
opposite the house.

I got hastily into the saddle, and finding all egress barred by
way of the narrow gate, leaped the palings just as Stuart did
likewise.

He had not had time to get his hat or riding-cape. I am not sure
even that his horse was bridled, and believe that he rode only
with the halter.

At all events, his swift bay cleared the fence in gallant style;
and, pursued by furious orders to halt, accompanied with a shower
of bullets, we crossed a field, and reached the cover of the
woods.

“Quick work!” exclaimed the General, his face fiery hot.
“Just look at the rascals!”

And, turning my head, I saw the Federal cavalry-men, who
had only pursued the General and his staff a short distance,
raising his riding-cape and hat upon the points of their sabres,
with shouts of laughter and triumph.

We afterward ascertained that Major Fitzhugh had gone as far

as the deserted house I have mentioned, and, after waiting for
an hour or two for General Fitz Lee, had lain down on the
floor to take a short nap, leaving the courier posted at the mouth
of the road, to announce the General's arrival. Instead of
General Fitz Lee's column, it was that of a Federal colonel commanding
a brigade. The courier was captured; and when Major
Fitzhugh, hearing the tramp of horses near the house, rose to
go and meet General Fitz Lee, he saw some blue-coats leading
off his fine sorrel, which had been tied to a limb. Then they
rushed in, seized him, and, after a struggle, made him prisoner,
conducting him to the colonel. That officer acquired no information
from the Major's rough replies; and, directing him to ride
at his side as guide, proceeded toward Verdiersville.

The reader knows what followed. Stuart and his staff retired
with more rapidity than ceremony; and the Federal colonel said
to Major Fitzhugh:

“What party was that?”

The Major saw that his general had escaped, and was laughing,
overjoyed. He could not resist the temptation of making
his captor “feel bad.”

“Did you ask what party that was which has just escaped,
Colonel?” said the Major.

“I did, sir.”

“Would you like to know very much?”

“I would.”

“Well, Colonel, that was General Stuart and his staff.”

The words were like the explosion of a shell.

“Stuart! That was Stuart? Here—a squadron! follow that
party, and kill or capture them. It is Stuart!”

The squadron rushed forward on the track of the fugitives, and
Stuart saw it coming.

“Pshaw!” he said coolly, “they won't come far. But let us
get out of their way, Major.”

And we galloped on. A few shots came, and we were pursued
a short distance. Then, as Stuart predicted, they ceased
following us. The General turned his horse, and rode back
toward Verdiersville.

“They will be afraid of a trap, and leave the place at once,”
he said.

The event showed the justice of this surmise. As we came in
sight of the small house from which we had retired so precipitately,
the Federal cavalry was seen rapidly moving in the direction
of the Rapidan.

“They have got my hat and cape,” growled Stuart; “but I
hope to get even with them.”

And we re-entered the village.[2]