79. LXXIX.
STUART TAKES HIS REVENGE.
Crossing the Rappahannock above Jeffersonton, Stuart pushed
forward with his column, and, passing in the vicinity of Warrenton,
made for the Orange and Alexandria Railroad, directly in the
enemy's rear.
By this time the sun was down, and, knowing the danger
which attends operating with cavalry by night, I supposed that
Stuart would go into bivouac with his command and wait for
daylight. I said as much, but he shook his head.
“Can't afford the time,” he replied. “It is hazardous to
move cavalry at night, but I must risk it. Hagan!”
The word was passed back to the escort, and soon the dark-bearded
giant whom I had formerly known in the Valley rode
forward and saluted. Hagan was unchanged, except that his
beard was heavier, his eye more twinkling, his huge mustache
more prone than ever to curl with lurking humor. When he
spoke, his voice was like the rumble of winds from the caverns
of AEolus.
Hagan, I soon learned, was corporal of the guard—in other
words, commanded the General's escort. He recognized me
immediately, and, putting two fingers to his hat, exclaimed
“Major!” in the most military style.
“Hagan,” said the General, “do you know this country?”
“Not just along here, General—but I have got two men who
do.”
“Call them up.”
Hagan turned and called, in a thundering voice:
“Snakebug!”
“Who on earth is that?” exclaimed Stuart, with a laugh.
“Only a little pet name, General.”
“Well, call the other.”
Hagan again elevated his voice, and shouted:
“Moonshine!”
This was more than Stuart could stand. He laid back on his
horse, and uttered a “haw, haw!” which exploded like a pistol.
“I will put your friend Moonshine in front of my column,
Hagan. He's the very man for a march at night! He shall
light the way. Where is he?”
“Here, General,” responded Hagan; and, turning round with
austere dignity:
“Moonshine!” he said.
“Yes, sir,” submissively responded Moonshine, a thin and
wiry individual, with a hawk nose and eye.
“Snakebug!”
“Here we are, Corporal,” came in gutteral tones from Snakebug,
who had the appearance of a gentleman ready to go through
fire and storm for plunder.
“Speak to the General!” said Hagan, in a voice of thunder;
and Snakebug and Moonsbine rode forward. They stated that
they knew the country perfectly; and, sending one with the
advance-guard, Stuart kept the other.
My friend Corporal Hagan had touched his hat with that
military courtesy which characterized him, and fallen back to
take command of his detachment.
Stuart now advanced, without pause, although the night had
grown pitch dark, and the sky was overclouded. Soon some
rain-drops began to fall.
“That's bad,” he muttered. “I must hurry up here, or the
streams in the rear will be so swollen as to prevent my return.”
“Where are we now, General?”
He called to Moonshine, who reported that they were then
within about two miles of Catlett's Station.
“I'll go there to-night, at all events,” said the General;
“move on with the column.”
We now advanced in silence, through the black darkness,
under a heavy drizzle, which was rapidly changing into a regular
rain-storm. It was impossible to see three feet ahead; and the
idea of charging headlong over broken and unknown ground,
upon an enemy whose position was unknown, did not suggest
the most pleasing ideas.
But Stuart seemed to have no doubt of the result. He was as
gay and cheerful as ever; and, taking the head of the column,
advanced through the black darkness, at a rapid trot, straight
toward Catlett's.
“Now for it, Surry!” he said, with animation, as we came in
sight of glimmering lights; “out with your sabre, and I'll lead
the way!”
“Where!” was my response to the unseen voice.
“Right into the enemy!”
“All right, General; but I'm getting horribly demoralized.”
“At what?”
“For fear I shall be charged by some gigantic limb on these
trees, and ignobly unhorsed in the very beginning.”
Stuart laughed.
“Shut your eyes, and trust to luck! Yonder they are!”
At that moment a scout hurried up, and Stuart recognized his
voice.
“Well!” he exclaimed, “here I am, Stringfellow! What
intelligence?”
“You are within eight hundred yards of Pope's head-quarters,
General.”
Stuart uttered an exclamation.
“Press on with the column!” was his loud order. The clatter
of hoofs redoubled. Then quick firing was heard from the
advance-guard, and the flash of carbines shone in the darkness.
“Forward!” cried the General, drawing his sabre.
Bang! bang! bang! was heard from the advance-guard.
They were driving in the picket.
Then a loud cheer arose in front.
“Draw sabres!—charge!” came in a ringing shout from
Stuart; and, digging the spur into his horse, he went at a headlong
gallop straight down the road, followed by his column.
We were approaching the railroad, and the ground became
broken, intersected with ravines, and almost impassable. Worse
than all, the obstacles were invisible. I only knew by the quick
leaps of my horse what we were passing over. On came the
column behind; and suddenly I heard exclamations, a heavy
“thud” or two, and the clatter of accountrements. More than
one horse and rider had “gone under,” and were rolling in the
ditch. The rest, however, pressed on—a sudden volley was fired
in our faces—then we were at the tents, from which the Federal
officers ran in their night-clothes.
The scene was animated. The fight had commenced, and the
whole locality was one maze of quick flashes, accompanied by
the sharp crack of carbines.
The men charged straight forward on the railroad; drove the
Federal forces beyond it; and quickly set to work to tear up every
thing, and destroy the bridge near by.
In this latter attempt they were unsuccessful, the rain having
wetted the timbers to such a degree as to prevent them from
kindling. As the light revealed the forms of the men, destructive
volleys were poured into them from the darkness.
I went to witness the bridge burning, but soon galloped back
to Stuart, who was in the midst of the fire, cheering on the
men. Suddenly an officer rode up to him, said something, and I
heard that quick, animated response which always indicated intense
satisfaction with the General. He galloped to a tent at
some distance—and I saw at once that it was the adjutant-general's.
It contained all the “official papers” of the Federal
army!—and near at hand, in another tent, was General Pope's
coat, with its badge of rank, hastily left by him in his flight.[1]
As Stuart held it up to the light, he burst into a laugh, and
exclaimed:
“Here is my revenge for losing my hat and cape at Verdiersville!”
The important official documents were at once secured, and
having accomplished this, so much more than he expected, Stuart
ordered the pursuit of the scattered enemy to cease, and his
command to fall into column.
Ere long, they were rapidly retiring over the same road by
which they had come, to regain the Southern lines before the
waters rose in their rear.
“Well, Surry!” exclaimed the General, as we rode along,
“what do you think of your raid?”
“I like it, General.”
“It is more than a success—far more. Do you know what we
found younder? Those papers are a complete exposé of Pope's
strength, position, expectations, and designs. He writes that
without Burnside he can't hold his ground, and must retreat
from Virginia! We know his whole hand now, and can play
our cards to suit it!”
“Then you have completely blocked his game.”
“It looks like it—to say nothing of capturing the General
commanding's coat! Ha! ha!”
And Stuart laughed with the keenest enjoyment.
On the next morning we had re-entered the Southern lines,
and General Lee had the captured papers. A few hours afterward
Jackson ordered three days' rations to be issued, and his
men to be gotten under arms.
