University of Virginia Library

36. The Hunt for the Scout
By JOHN ESTEN COOKE (1863)

AMONG the numerous scouts employed by General Stuart, none was braver or more intelligent than a young man named Frank Sutledge. He certainly was a ranger— born. He loved his friends, but lie loved his calling better still. It might have been said >of him that man delighted him not, nor, woman either. His chief delight was to penetrate the dense woods, assail the enemy wherever he found an opening, and inflict upon them all the injury in his power. In the eyes of the scout those enemies were wolves, and he hunted them: now and then they returned the compliment.

In person Sutledge was suited to his calling; stout but active; a good hand with pistol and sabre; quick of eye; and with nerves which no peril could shake. Soldiers generally prefer broad daylight and an open country to operate in ; Sutledge liked a forest where no moon shone. When he found it necessary to penetrate

the hostile lines, and could not elude the watchful guardians of the night, his habit was to brace himself in his stirrups, draw his pistol, and to the quick, "Halt! who goes there ? "shout, "Form fours I draw sabres! charge! "to an imaginary squadron behind him, and pass on with loud yells, firing his pistol as he advanced. The result was, generally, that the picket fired wildly at him, and then fled before the tremendous onslaught of "rebel cavalry,"whereupon the adventurous scout passed through at a thundering gallop, drove the picket before him, and adroitly slipping, at the opportune moment, into some by-path of the woods, was within the lines. When the enemy made a stand at the next rising ground to receive the expected charge, none came. When they returned to look for Sutledge, he had disappeared.

It was in November, 1863, when the Federal army lay around Culpeper Court-House and Mitchell's Station, that Sutledge was sent on a scout to ascertain the number, position, and movements of the Federal forces. Taking with him two companions, he crossed the upper Rapidan, and carefully worked his way toward Mitchell's Station. General Meade had pushed forward his lines to this point a few days before,-. or rather had established large camps there ; it was Sutledge's mission to ascertain, if possible, his designs.

In due time the small party reached the vicinity of the station, and it now became necessary to take the remainder of the journey on foot. They accordingly dismounted, and leaving their horses in a thick copse, "snaked "in the direction of a large Federal camp near at hand, taking advantage of every cover. In this manner they came close upon the camp, and

were rewarded with a sight of acres of canvas. The size of the encampments enabled Sutledge to form a tolerably accurate estimate of the amount of force which General Meade had concentrated at this point; he passed the whole day thus moving cautiously around the spot, thereby discovering all which a mere reconnoissance could reveal, and began to look for stragglers, from whom, as his prisoners, he might derive more accurate information still.

After a fatiguing day, Sutledge and his party lay down in the woods near the Federal camp, to snatch an hour's sleep before proceeding to their nocturnal work.

Sutledge had selected for his bivouac a retired spot where the encircling woods gave excellent promise of concealment, and the covert was so dense as to set him completely at his ease. Through the thick brushwood no glimmer of firelight could be seen; and the scouts ventured to kindle a fire, which the chill November night rendered far from unacceptable. By the carefully shaded blaze they warmed their benumbed fingers, ate their supplies of hard bread and bacon, and spread their blankets for a brief sleep. Sutledge took off his shoes; laid his hat at his head; and having picked up somewhere a certain "Life of Stonewall Jackson,"recently published in Richmond, now drew it from his haversack, and read a few passages by the firelight. This volume must have produced a soothing effect upon his feelings, for in a short time his eyelids drooped, the volume fell from his hands, and he sank to slumber. His companions were already snoring by his side.

They slept longer than they designed doing—in fact throughout the entire night. The weather, which

had been lowering at nightfall, became gradually more threatening; and soon an imperceptible drizzle began, just sufficient to wet the blankets of the sleepers, but not to chill and awake them. As day drew near, a squad of infantry soldiers, armed with muskets, came from the adjoining camp ; and this party, on their way to forage for butter, eggs, poultry, and other desirable components of a military breakfast, stumbled on the slumbering scouts.

The first intimation which Sutledge bad of the danger which menaced him was, he declared, an instinctive feeling that some dangerous foe was near; and this even before be woke. He was not long, however, to remain in doubt, or be compelled to question his instincts. He opened his eyes to find the blanket suddenly drawn away from his face, and to hear a harsh and sarcastic voice exclaim: "How are you, Johnny Reb? Come, get up, and we will give you more comfortable accommodations than out here in the rain !"

Sutledge was wide-awake in an instant, and through his half-closed lids reconnoitred, counting his opponents. They were six in number, all armed and ready. The situation looked ugly. With his companions wide-awake and on the alert there might have been some ground for hope; but they were slumbering like the Seven Sleepers, and in utter unconsciousness of danger. As to Sutledge himself, he was in their very grasp, and practically disarmed; for it was obvious that at the first movement which he made to draw his pistol from the holster around his waist, the six muskets, cocked and pointing at his breast, would be discharged as one piece, and his body riddled with bullets.

The situation was depressing : Sutledge and his companions were in a veritable trap. The least movement which he made would at once put an end to him, if six balls through the body could do so; and it was obviously necessary to surrender at once or betake himself to strategy. The first was out of the question, for Sutledge had made up his mind

never to surrender, had indeed sworn a solemn oath not to do so under any circumstances; the second alternative remained. A ruse had already suggested itself to his quick and daring mind; and this he now proceeded instantly to carry out. To the sneering address of his opponent bidding him get up, he made, no immediate reply, but again closed his eyes, pulled the blanket up again over his shoulders, and turning his back, muttered in a sleepy voice: "Oh! go away, and let me sleep, will you !"

This reply highly tickled his adversaries; and so much did they relish the evident impression of the Johnny Reb that he was among his own comrades in the Confederate camp, that they shook all over in the excess of their mirth. Sutledge was a dangerous man, however, to jest with. While his opponents were thus indulging their merriment, and highly enjoying the surprise and mortification he would feel when awake to the real nature of the situation, Sutledge was busy executing the plan which he had determined upon. Pulling his blanket still further over his head, he drew a long laboured breath, turned as men do languidly in slumber, and cautiously moved his hand beneath the blanket toward the pistol in his belt. The hand slowly stole downwards under the cover, approached the weapon, and then he had grasped the handle. A second careless movement extracted the pistol from the holster; his finger was on the hammer— without noise the— weapon was cocked.