University of Virginia Library

VIII
FROM THE RAPIDAN TO FRYING PAN,
IN OCTOBER, 1863.

1. I.

General Meade's retreat from Culpeper, in October, 1863, was
one of the liveliest episodes of the late war. This officer was
not unpopular in the Southern army. Few depredations were
laid to his charge, and he was generally regarded as a fair and
honorable opponent. There was evidently no rhodomontade
about him, and few trumpets were blown in his honour; but
General Lee is said to have declared that he had given him as
much trouble as any Federal general of the war. Of his status
as a soldier, let history speak. The present sketch will show, I
think, that no general ever better understood the difficult art of
coolly retiring without loss, and promptly advancing to his former
position at the right moment. As in other sketches, the
writer will aim rather to present such details and incidents as
convey a clear idea of the actual occurrence, than to indulge in
historical generalization. Often the least trifling of things are
“trifles.”

In October, 1863, General Meade's army was around Culpeper
Court-House, with the advance at Mitchell's Station, on the
Orange road, and General Lee faced him on the south bank of
the Rapidan. One day there came from our signal-station, on
Clarke's Mountain, the message: “General Meade's head-quarters
are at Wallack's, and Pleasanton's at Cumberland, Georgia.”

General Fitz Lee thereupon sent to General Stuart, after the
jocose fashion of “General Fitz,” to ask why Pleasanton had
been sent to “Cumberland, Georgia.” The message should have
been Cumberland George's—the house, that is to say, of the Rev.
Mr. George, in the suburbs of Culpeper Court-House.

Every day, at that time, the whistle of the “Yankee cars,” as
we used to call them, was heard a few miles off, at Mitchell's
Station; and as General Meade was plainly going to advance, it
was obvious that he was going to fall back. It was at this time,
early in October, that “for reasons best known to himself,” General
Lee determined upon a movement through Madison, along
the base of the Blue Ridge, to flank General Meade's right, cut
him off from Manassas, and bring on a general engagement between
the two armies. The plan was a simple one. Ewell and
A. P. Hill were to move out with their corps from the works on
the Rapidan, and marching up that stream, cross into Madison,
leaving Fitz Lee's cavalry division to occupy their places in the
abandoned works, and repulse any assault. Once across the
Upper Rapidan, Ewell and Hill would move toward Madison
Court-House with the rest of Stuart's cavalry on their right flank,
to mask the movement; and, thence pushing on to the Rappahannock,
make for Warrenton, somewhere near which point it
was probable that they would strike General Meade's column on
its retreat: Then a decisive trial of strength in a pitched battle.

The cavalry, by common consent of the army, “did the work”
on this movement—the infantry having few opportunities to become
engaged—and I shall ask the reader to follow “Stuart and
his horsemen.”

I think it was the morning of the 10th of October when, moving
on the right of the long column of Ewell and Hill then
streaming toward Madison Court-House, Stuart came on the exterior
picket of the enemy—their advance force of cavalry, infantry,
and artillery, being near the little village of James City.
The picket on a little stream was driven in, and pushing on to
Thoroughfare Mountain (not to be confounded with that near
Manassas), we ran into a regiment of infantry which had hastily
formed line of battle at the noise of the firing. Gordon, that

gallant North Carolinian, at once became hotly engaged; but
there was no time to stop long. Stuart took Young's brigade—
he had but two—and, making a detour to the left, charged
straight down upon the enemy's right flank. Cheers, yells, carbines
cracking—and the infantry broke and scattered in the
mountains, dropping large numbers of the newest, brightest, and
handsomest muskets ever handled. The force was declared by
prisoners to have numbered two hundred and fifty, of whom
about twenty were taken. Stuart now pushed on without stopping,
and speedily became engaged with the main force of Federal
cavalry at James City. This force was commanded by General
Kilpatrick, we afterwards discovered, and this gentleman had
been enjoying himself greatly. There was a race-course near
the town where races were held, General Kilpatrick having, it
is said, a favorite mare called “Lively” which he used to run
against a blood horse in his artillery called the “Battery Horse.”
What became of the “Battery Horse” this historian cannot say;
but—to anticipate events—the fate of “Lively” can be stated.
Later in the fall, the general was running “Lively” near Manassas,
when she flew the track, and two men were sent after
her. Neither “Lively” nor the men ever returned. In fact,
some of “Mosby's people” had been unseen spectators of the
race from the adjoining woods, and these gentry took charge
both of the mare and the men sent after her. “I really must
have that mare,” General Stuart said, when he heard the incident,
but her captors retained her.

I am anticipating. General Kilpatrick was in command at
James City, and, drawing up his cavalry on the high ground
beyond, prepared to receive Stuart's attack. None was made.
It was not a part of the programme. Stuart's orders were to
keep the enemy off the infantry flanks, and this could best be
accomplished by remaining quiet. So, every demonstration was
made; lines of sharpshooters were advanced, our artillery
opened, and—no attack was made. Thus the hours passed on.
Shells raced across the little valley. Carbines cracked. An outside
spectator would have said that the opponents were afraid of
each other. The truth was that General Stuart was playing his

own game, and his adversary did not understand it. At last,
even the firing ceased. Fronting each other in line of battle, the
opponents waited in silence for some movement. The stillness
was, however, broken suddenly by an incident, amusing, but by
no means agreeable, at least from our point of view. General
Stuart was lying down, surrounded by his staff and escort, with
his flag floating on the top of the hill, when, behind a fringe of
woods, near the Federal cavalry drawn up in long line of battle
on the opposite plateau, was seen a puff of white smoke. A roar
followed, then the whistle of a shell, and this polite visitor fell
and burst in the very midst of the group. It was a percussion
shell, and exploded as it struck, tearing up a deep hole and
vanishing, without injuring a single individual. As the present
writer was covered with the dirt where he lay, and found by
inspection that it had been a “line shot,” striking within three
or four feet of his head, the incident was highly pleasing. The
shell was followed by others, but no harm was done by them,
and it is not necessary to say that the friendly group, with the
flag floating so temptingly above it, deployed to the right and
left, laughing, and not displeased at the result of the first “good
shot.”

At night the Federal cavalry were still there, and Stuart still
remained quiet. His headquarters that night were at Mr.
H—'s where that brave spirit, General Gordon, of the cavalry,
came to see him. It is a melancholy pleasure to recall the gallant
face of Gordon, now that he is dead; to remember his
charming smile, his gay humour; the elegant little speech which
he made as he gallantly presented a nosegay to the fair Miss
H—, bowing low as he did so amid friendly laughter. When
he fell he left behind him no braver soldier or kindlier gentleman.

2. II.

At dawn Stuart was again in the saddle, pressing forward
upon the retiring enemy.

Ewell and Hill had moved unseen to their position on the

Sperryville road, thanks to the stand of Stuart at James City;
and now, for the first time, the enemy seemed to understand the
nature of the blow about to be struck. General Meade had put
his army in motion toward the Rappahannock; and, as the
advance force in our front retired, Stuart pressed them closely.
It is hard to say whether this great soldier was better in falling
back or in advancing. When he retired he was the soul of
stubborn obstinacy. When he advanced he was all fire, dash,
and impetus. He was now following up a retreating enemy,
and he did not allow the grass to grow under his feet.

Below Griffinsburg the rear-guard of the Federal cavalry was
attacked and driven; and Stuart was pushing on, when the presence
of a Federal infantry regiment in the woods to his right
was announced. To this he paid no attention, but drove on,
firing upon their cavalry, and soon the good judgment of this
was shown. The infantry regiment heard the firing, feared
being cut off, and double-quicked toward the rear. They
reached the fields on Stone House Mountain as quickly as Stuart,
moving parallel to his column, and suddenly their line appeared.
I have rarely seen General Stuart more excited. It was a rich
prize, that regiment, and it appeared in his grasp! But, unfortunately,
his column was not “up.” He was leading a mere
advance guard, and that was scattered. Every available staff-officer
and courier was hurried back for the cavalry, and the
“Jefferson Company,” Lieutenant Baylor, got up first, and
charged straight at the flank of the infantry. They were suddenly
halted, formed line of battle, and the bright muskets fell
to a level like a single weapon. The cavalry company received
the fire at thirty yards, but pressed on, and would doubtless have
ridden over the infantry, now scattering in great disorder, but
for an impassable ditch. Before they could make a detour to
avoid it, the Federal infantry had scattered, “every man for himself,”
in the woods, dropping guns, knapsacks, and blankets.

The huge camps at Stone House Mountain, as afterwards
around Culpeper Court House, were a sort of “Arabian Nights”
of wonder to the gray people. The troops had fixed themselves
in the most admirable manner to defy the coming winter.

Excellent stone chimneys, of every form; cabins, stoves, tables,
magazines, books, wine and rum-bottles (empty), oil-cloths,
coats, shoes, arms—everything was scattered about. Harpers'
Magazine seemed to be a favourite; and full files of papers
might have been collected in the deserted cabins. From this
abode of the dolce far niente the rude hand of war, in the shape
of Stuart's cavalry, had pushed them.

Stuart continued to press the enemy toward the Court-House;
and there their cavalry had made a stand. As to the infantry, it
was nowhere visible in the immense camps around the place—
those camps which contained, like the first, only rubbish. Not a
wagon, ambulance, or piece of artillery, I believe, was captured.
General Meade had swept clean. There were even very few
empty boxes.

On “Cumberland George's” hill, the Federal artillery fought
hard for a time, inflicting some loss; but Gordon was sent round
by the Rixeyville Road to the left; Stuart advanced in front;
and the enemy fell back toward Brandy. The reader will remember
that General Fitz Lee had been left on the Lower Rapidan
to repulse any assault in that direction, and the expected assault
had been made. I think it was General Buford who attacked
him; but the attack was unsuccessful, and as the enemy fell back
Fitz Lee pressed forward on the track of the retreating column
toward Brandy. We now heard the thunder of his guns upon
the right as he pushed on toward the Rappahannock, and everything
seemed to be concentrating in the neighbourhood of Fleetwood
Hill, the scene of the sanguinary conflict of the 9th of June
preceding. There the great struggle, in fact, took place—Stuart
pressing the main column on their line of retreat from above,
General Fitz Lee pushing as vigorously after the strong force
which had fallen back from the Rappahannock. As it is not
the design of the writer to attempt any “battle pictures” in this
discursive sketch, he omits a detailed account of the hard fight
which followed. It was among the heaviest of the war, and for
a time nothing was seen but dust, smoke, and confused masses
reeling to and fro; nothing was heard but shouts, cheers, yells,
and orders, mixed with the quick bang of carbines and the clash

of sabres—above all, and the continuous thunder of the artillery.
It was as “mixed up” as any fight of the war, and at one time
General Stuart, with Colonel Peyton, of General Lee's staff, and
one or two other officers, found himself cut off by the enemy.
He got out, joined his column to Fitz Lee's, and charging the
Federal forces, cavalry and infantry—the latter being drawn up
on Fleetwood Hill—pressed them back to the Rappahannock,
which they hastened to cross. General Meade had thus retreated
from Culpeper, but it was the “cleanest” retreat on record, as
far as the present writer's observation extended. He imitated it
in December at Mine Run.

General Lee had meanwhile advanced with his infantry toward
Warrenton Springs, still aiming to cut General Meade off from
Manassas. On the next day commenced the trial of skill
between the two commanders. General Meade's cavalry had
been so rudely hustled by Stuart, and the cordon placed by the
latter along the Rappahannock was so effective, that the Federal
commander was absolutely in the dark as to his great adversary's
position and designs. On the afternoon of this—next—day, therefore,
a Federal force consisting of a corps of infantry and two
brigades of cavalry, was moved across the Rappahannock where
the Orange railway crosses it, and this force pushed straight
toward the Court-House. The design was evidently to ascertain
if General Lee was in that vicinity, and the column rapidly advanced.
Near Brandy it encountered what seemed to be Stuart's
entire cavalry. At various openings in the woods the heads of
different columns were seen, calmly awaiting an attack, and the
Federal infantry and cavalry speedily formed line of battle, prepared
for vigorous engagement. They would scarcely have
given themselves so much trouble if they had known that the
entire force in their front consisted of about one hundred and eighty
men, with one gun under Colonel Rosser, as a sort of grand
picket guard. He had arranged detachments of eight or ten men
as above indicated, at openings in the woods, to produce the impression
of several heavy columns; and it was not until they attacked
him that they discovered the ruse. The attack once made,
all further concealment was impossible. Rosser's one hundred

and eighty men, and single piece of artillery, were rapidly driven
back by the enemy; and his gun was now roaring from the high
ground just below the Court House, when the clatter of hoofs
was heard upon the streets of the village. It was the gay and
gallant P. M. B. Young, of Georgia, who had been left with his
brigade near James City, and now came to Rosser's assistance.
Young passed through the Court-House at a trot, hastened to
the scene of action, and, dismounting his entire brigade, deployed
them as sharpshooters, and made a sudden and determined
attack upon the enemy. This vigorous movement seems to have
completely deceived them. Night was now falling; they could
not make out the numbers or character of Young's force; and
an attack as bold as his must surely proceed from a heavy force
of infantry! Was General Lee still at the place, with one of his
corps d'armee? If this idea entered the minds of the enemy, it
must have been encouraged by Young's next move. He had
held his ground without flinching; and now, as night descended,
he ordered camp fires to be built along two miles of front, and
bringing up his splendid brass band, played the “Bonnie Blue
Flag” and “Dixie” with defiant animation. This ruse seemed
to decide the matter; the Federal commander made no further
effort to advance; and in the morning there was not a Federal
soldier on the south bank of the Rappahannock. Their corps
of infantry and two brigades of cavalry had “fallen back in
good order:” and the laughing Young remained master of the
situation.

Stuart had pushed on, meanwhile, toward Warrenton Springs,
and just as the fight above described commenced, a gallant affair
took place above. The enemy were attacked in the town of Jeffersonton,
and after a hot fight forced back to Warrenton
Springs, where the Jefferson Company again distinguished itself.
The attempt was made to charge over the bridge, in face of the
enemy's fire. In the middle of the structure the column suddenly
recoiled, and retreated. The cause of this movement was
soon discovered. Several of the planks had been torn up in the
flooring of the bridge, and to eross was impossible. The Jefferson
Company, however, did not abandon their work. They galloped

to the ford, Stuart placed himself at their head, and, in the
face of a heavy and determined fire from a double line of Federal
sharpshooters, they charged across. The Federal force gave
way before them, and crossing his whole column Stuart pushed
on upon the track of the enemy toward Warrenton, followed by
the infantry, who had witnessed the feats of their cavalry breth
ren with all the satisfaction of “outside spectators.”

In Jeffersonton and at Warrenton Springs many brave fellows
had fallen, and sad scenes were presented. Lieutenant Chew
had fought from house to house in the first named place, and in
a mansion of the village this gallant officer lay dying, with a bullet
through his breast. At Mr. M—'s, near the river, young
Marshall, of Fauquier, a descendant of the Chief Justice, was
lying on a table, covered with a sheet—dead, with a huge, bloody
hole in the centre of his pale forehead; while in a bed opposite
lay a wounded Federal officer. In the fields around were dead
men, dead horses, and abandoned arms.

The army pushed on to Warrenton, the cavalry still in
advance, and on the evening of the next day Stuart rapidly
advanced with his column to reconnoitre toward Catlett's Station,
the scene of his great raid in August, 1862, when he captured
General Pope's coat and official papers. The incident which followed
was one of the most curious of the war.

3. III.

Stuart had just passed Auburn, when General Gordon, commanding
the rear of his column, sent him word that a heavy
force of the enemy's infantry had closed in behind him, completely
cutting him off from General Lee. As at the same
moment an army corps of Federal infantry was discovered moving
across his front, General Stuart awoke to the unpleasant
consciousness that his little force of cavalry was securely hemmed
in between overpowering masses of the enemy, who, as soon as
they discovered the presence of the audacious interlopers, would
unquestionably attack and cut them to pieces.

The “situation” was now in the highest degree critical. In
fact, Stuart had managed to get his command inclosed between
the two retreating columns of General Meade—infantry, cavalry,
and artillery—and these columns, as they moved across his front
and rear, were converging toward Bristoe, near Manassas. The
only hope of safety lay in complete concealment of his presence,
and General Stuart issued the most stringent orders to his troops
that no noise of any description should be made during the night.
There was little necessity to impress this upon the command.
Within a few hundred yards of them, in front and in rear, were
moving the huge columns of the enemy; the feet of the infantry
shuffling, the hoofs of the cavalry clattering, the artillery wheels
and chains rolling and jingling, and above the whole the stifled
hum of an army on the march. The men sat motionless and
silent in the saddle, listening, throughout the long hours of the
night. No man spoke; no sound was heard from human lips
as the little force remained perdu in the darkness. But the
“dumb animals” were not equally intelligent, and more than
once some thoughtless horse neighed or some indiscreet donkey
in the artillery uttered his discordant notes. In the noise of the
Federal retreat these sounds, however, were not observed, and
thus the night wore on and daylight came.

The first glimmer showed General Stuart that the Federal forces
had nearly all passed. In fact the rear force had halted within a
few hundred yards of his position and were cooking their breakfasts.
Now was his opportunity not only to extricate himself,
but to take vengeance for the long hours of anxiety and peril.
Picked men had been sent during the night to pass through the
advancing column and announce the critical position of affairs to
General Lee, and Stuart had suggested a vigorous infantry
attack upon the enemy's left flank while he attacked their right.
Not hearing from General Lee, he took the initiative. At dawn
he put his artillery in position, drew up his cavalry, and opened
a thundering fire upon the Federal troops; knocking over their
coffee-pots, and scattering them in wild confusion. They rallied,
however, and made a vigorous attack—a severe though brief
engagement following—but Stuart repulsed this assault, slowly

fell back, and soon his little command was extricated from its
peril, Altogether this was a curious affair. It was not attractive,
however “romantic.” One of the bravest infantry officers
of the army, who accompanied the expedition as an amateur,
declared, laughing, that he was “done with the cavalry—the
infantry was enough for him thereafter.”

Meanwhile General Lee was pressing the retiring enemy toward
Bristoe; Stuart on the right, and General Fitz Lee moving on
their left, through New Baltimore. There was some fatal blunder,
however, in the execution of General Lee's orders, or else
some obstacle which could not be overcome. General Meade
pushed on and crossed Broad Run, making with his main body
for Manassas. When the Southern advance force reached Bristoe
they found the main Federal army gone. A strong force,
however, remained, and this was drawn up behind a long railroad
embankment serving admirably as a breastwork. The men
had only to lie down upon the slope, rest their muskets on the
track of the railroad, and sweep the open field in their front with
a shower of balls if the Confederates attacked. The attack was
made—straight across open ground, down a slope, right on the
embankment. The consequence was that Cooke's brigade, which
was ordered to make the attempt, was nearly annihilated, the General
falling among the first at the head of his troops: and, advanceing
against the line to his left, the enemy captured, I believe, nine
pieces of artillery. After this exploit they quietly retired across
Broad Run, and rejoined the main column. A worse managed
affair than that fight at Bristoe did not take place during the
war. “Well, well, General,” Lee is reported to have said to the
officer who essayed to explain the occurrence, “bury these poor
men, and let us say no more about it.” General Meade was
behind Bull Run fortifying.

Thus terminated General Lee's vigorous attempt to bring on a
pitched battle with Meade. That was his design, as it was General
Meade's design in coming over to Mine Run in the succeeding
December. Both schemes failed. From the high ground
beyond Bristoe, Lee, surrounded by his generals, reconnoitred
the retiring rear-guard of the enemy, and issued his orders for

the army to retrace its steps to the Rappahannock. The cavalry
had not, however, finished their work. The fine October weather
was admirable for active movement, and Stuart pushed
straight on to Manassas, harassing the Federal forces as they
crossed Bull Run. At Blackburn's Ford, General Fitz Lee had
a brisk engagement, which drove the Federal cavalry across;
and, near Yates's Ford, General Stuart charged over a barricade
at the head of his horsemen, scattered the Federal sharpshooters,
and drove to and across the stream their cavalry and artillery.

An odd incident marked this occasion. It was about dusk
when the enemy began to retire from our front, their artillery
roaring on the right, but taking position after position, each
nearer Bull Run. General Stuart was within about four hundred
yards of the Federal guns, in the edge of the woods, surrounded
by his staff, escort, etc., one of whom had just taken up a dead
man before him to carry off. At this moment, among the figures
moving to and fro, one—apparently a member of the staff or
escort—was seen quietly riding out into the field, as if to gain a
better view of the Federal artillery. “Who is that?” said General
Stuart, pointing to the figure, indistinct in the dusk. “One
of the couriers,” some one replied. “No!” returned Stuart,
“halt him!” Two men immediately galloped after the suspected
individual, who was easily, carelessly, and quietly edging
off; and he speedily returned between them. Behold! he wore
under his oilcloth a blue coat! “What do you belong to?”
asked Stuart. “The First Maine, sir,” responded the other with
great nonchalance. In fact, the “gentleman from Maine” had
got mixed up with us when the column went over the barricade;
and, wrapped in his oilcloth, had listened to the remarks of
Stuart and his staff, until he thought he could get away. The
quick eye of General Stuart, however, penetrated his disguise,
and he was a prisoner.

It was now night, and operations were over for the day. The
retreat had been admirably managed. General Meade had carried
off everything. We did not capture a wagon wheel. All
was beyond Bull Run. The present writer here records his
own capture, viz. one oilcloth, one feed of oats, found in the

road, and one copy of Harper's Magazine, full of charming pictures
of rebels, running, or being annihilated, in every portion
of the country. On the next morning, Stuart left Fitz Lee
in front of Bull Run, to oppose any advance of the Federal cavalry
there, and, taking Hampton's division, set out through a
torrent of rain to make a flank movement against General
Meade's right beyond the Little River Turnpike. He had intended
to cross at Sudley Ford, but coming upon the Federal
cavalry near Groveton, a fight ensued, and the column could
not cross there without having the movement unmasked. Stuart
accordingly turned to the left; made a detour through Gainsville;
and advancing, amid a violent storm, bivouacked that
night beyond the Little Catharpin. The General on this day
kept his entire staff and surroundings in great good-humour, by
his songs and laughter, which only seemed to grow more jovial
as the storm became more violent. I hope the reader will not
regard this statement as “unworthy of the dignity of history.”
Fortunately I am not writing history; only a poor little sketch
of a passage in the life of a very great man; and it has seemed
to me that all concerning him is interesting. Pardon! august
muse of history, that dealest in protocols and treaties! We
pass on.

The weather was charming, as on the next morning the column
advanced toward “Frying-Pan Church,” and the troopers subsisted
delightfully upon chinquepins, chestnuts, persimmons, and
wild grapes. Reaching a magnificent apple-tree, weighed down
with fruit as red as carnations, the men, with the fullest permission
from the hospitable owner, threw themselves upon it,
and soon the whole was stripped, the soldiers going on their way
rejoicing. Never have I seen more splendid weather than those
October days, or more beautiful tints in the foliage. Pity that
the natural red of the birch and dogwood was not enough without
blood! Stuart advanced rapidly, and near Frying-Pan
Church came upon and at once attacked the Second corps of
Federal infantry. A long ling of sharpshooters was formed,
which advanced on foot in line of battle. The artillery roared,
and at first the Federal troops gave ground. The aspect of

affairs speedily changed, however, and a strong Federal force,
advancing in order of battle, made it necessary for Stuart to
withdraw. This was done at once, with great deliberation, and
at the “Recall” of the bugle the skirmishers slowly moved back
and gained the woods. A spectacle which aroused the good-humoured
laughter of those who witnessed it, was a staff officer
carrying off in his arms a young lady of about fourteen from a
house which the enemy were about to have within their lines.
This was done at the suggestion of the General; and although
the bullets were flying and the officer's horse was “dancing upon
all four feet,” the young lady declared herself “not afraid,” and
did not change colour at the bullets. If this meets the fair girl's
eye she is informed that the officer has still the gray who came
near unseating her as he jumped the fence, and that his rider
has not forgotten the smiling little face, but remembers it with
admiration and pleasure!

4. IV.

That night General Stuart was moving steadily back by the
same route which he had pursued in advancing, and on the next
day he had reached the vicinity of Bucklands.

The army had fallen back, tearing up the road, and General
Stuart now prepared to follow, the campaign having come to an
end. He was not, however, to be permitted to fall back without
molestation, and his command was to be present at the “Buckland
Races.” This comic episode will be briefly described, and
the event related just as it occurred, without embellishment or
exaggeration. General Kilpatrick, commanding the Federal
cavalry, had been very much outraged, it would appear, at the
hasty manner in which Stuart had compelled him to evacuate
Culpeper; and he now felt an ardent desire, before the campaign
ended, to give the great cavalier a “Roland for his Oliver.”
With about 3,000 cavalry he accordingly crossed Bull Run,
following upon Stuart's track as the latter fell back; and soon
he had reached the little village of Bucklands, not far from New
Baltimore.

Stuart had disappeared; but these disappearances of Stuart,
like those of Jackson, were always dangerous. In fact, a ruse
was about to be practised upon General Kilpatrick, who was
known to want caution, and this ruse was of the simplest description.
Stuart had arranged that he should retire before Kilpatrick
as he advanced, until the Federal column was beyond Bucklands—then
Fitz Lee, who had fallen back from Manassas on
the line of the Orange Railroad, would have an opportunity to
fall upon the enemy's flank and rear. The sound of Fitz Lee's
guns would be the signal for Stuart to face about and attack;
Kilpatrick would thus be assailed in front and flank at the same
instant, and the result would probably be satisfactory. This
plan was carried out exactly as Stuart had arranged. General
Kilpatrick reached Bucklands, and is said to have stated while
dining at a house there that “he would not press Stuart so hard,
but he (Stuart) had boasted of driving him (Kilpatrick) out of
Culpeper, and he was going to give him no rest.” It is said
that General Kilpatrick had scarcely uttered this threat when
the roar of artillery was heard upon his left flank, and this was
speedily reëchoed by similar sounds in his front. In fact, General
Fitz Lee had carried out his half of the programme, and
Stuart hastened to do the rest. At the sound of General Lee's
artillery Stuart faced about, formed his command in three
columns, and charged straight upon the enemy's front, while
General Fitz Lee fell upon his flanks. The consequence was a
complete rout of the Federal cavalry, who scattered in every
direction, throwing down their arms as they fled, and the flight
of many, it is said, was not checked until they reached Alexandria.
General Custer's headquarter wagons and papers were
captured—as happened, I believe, to the same officer twice subsequently—and
the pursuing force, under Kilpatrick, gave
Stuart no more trouble as he fell back. This engagement
afforded huge enjoyment to the Southern cavalry, as it was almost
bloodless, and resembled a species of trap into which their opponents
fell. Nothing amuses troops more than this latter circumstance,
and the affair continues to be known among the disbanded
troopers of Stuart, as the “Buckland Races.”

This engagement ended the campaign as far as the cavalry
were concerned, and it was the movements of this arm that I
proposed to outline. These were uniformly successful, while
those of the infantry, from what appeared to be some fatality,
were regularly unsuccessful. While the cavalry drove their
opponents before them at Stone House Mountain, Culpeper
Court-House, Brandy, Warrenton Springs, Bull Run, and Bucklands,
the infantry failed to arrest the enemy at Auburn; were
repulsed at Bristoe with the loss of several guns; and now, on
the Rappahannock, was to occur that ugly affair at the railroad
bridge, in which two brigades of General Lee's army were surprised,
overpowered, and captured almost to a man. Such is the
curiously mingled “warp and woof” of war. It was the Army
of Northern Virginia, led by Ewell and Hill, with General Lee
commanding in person, which sustained these losses, and failed
in the object which the great soldier declared he had in view—
to cut off and fight a pitched battle with General Meade. The
movements of this latter commander entitled him to high praise,
and he exhibited throughout the brief campaign a vigour and
acumen which only belong to the thorough soldier.

Such is an outline of some incidents in this rapid campaign;
this hasty movement backward and forward on the great chessboard
of war. The discursive sketch here laid before the reader
may convey some idea of the occurrences as they actually took
place. From the “official reports” the grave Muse of History
will sum up the results, generalizing upon the importance or
non-importance of the events. This page aims at no generalization
at all, but simply to show how Stuart and Fitz Lee, with
their brave comrades, did the work assigned to them in those
bright October days of 1863.