B00EF19YY8 EBOK, page 10
We saw no troops but found a field with half a dozen horses grazing. We had learned to be opportunist thieves. Horses were more valuable than gold. They could carry the captured goods for us. We quickly rounded them up and roped them together; my knot and rope skills made the task quick. The owner of the horses saw us and raced out with an antique musket in his hand. He fired at us but at a distance of over two hundred yards he would have had more chance of hitting us by throwing the weapon at us.
The captain was delighted with our haul. Others had also found supplies, however the worst news was that Sergeant Murphy had spotted a company of cavalry who appeared to be scouring the country for us. The captain was a brave man but he could see that we were between a rock and a hard place. The cavalry to the north were driving south and the only way across was through the garrison at the ferry. We all awaited his decision but even I could see his dilemma. With the prisoners and the slaves we did not have the freedom he needed.
Sergeant Murphy, who was a quiet thinker, suddenly grinned. “I have it sir. The bridge is wide enough for six men and horses abreast. We take six of us. Let us charge the bridge a-firing our pistols, the slaves and the prisoners in the middle and the rest of the lads behind. If we do it at night we will scare the bejesus out of them.”
“We would have to gag the prisoners.”
“Simple enough sir and we use one of us to guard each man. Sure it’ll be like a dream.” Danny Murphy always sounded confident and confidence is infectious.
“I like it Daniel! Hopefully it will be a nightmare to them. Slaughter the captured animals and strap the carcasses to the backs of the spare horses. Spread the ammunition between the new horses we just acquired. We ride at dusk. “
The prisoners were not happy about the prospect of being gagged but I suspect it was the proximity of their comrades which galled them the most. At best they would be interrogated and exchanged and at worst end up in a rebel prison camp. They were so close to safety and yet, if we were successful, they might never see home again. I was delighted when the captain chose Harry and me to be two of those who would charge the enemy.
Sergeant Murphy came to give us advice. “Tie your reins around your pommel. That will give you two hands to fire two pistols. Use your saddle guns first and just keep pointing and firing. You don’t need to aim. Besides in the dark and with the smoke you’ll be lucky to see anything. All you lads need to know is that anyone in front of you is a Yank!” He turned to the four of us who would be leading the charge. “When we reach the other side of the bridge turn and use your carbines to cover the others as they come across. When I yell ‘run’ then you better listen; I won’t be giving any second shouts!”
The captain addressed us before we left. “There will be no noise until we charge the bridge and then I want you to sound like the Army of North Virginia. If the Sergeant or I fall then it is your duty to get to Winchester and give our information to Colonel Stuart. God speed!”
We could see the lights of Harper’s Ferry in the distance. We descended from the heights through the forest, avoiding the road. When we were two hundred yards from the bridge we emerged from the trees. The captain and the sergeant placed themselves in the middle. Harry and I were on the right and the other two were on the left. The rest of the men, prisoners and our slaves, were bunched up as close behind us as they could manage. We tied our reins on to our pommels and drew and cocked our pistols. The captain waved us forward and we kicked our horses.
Copper was a very responsive horse and she trotted next to Harry’s mount easily keeping pace with the others. The guards at the bridge were lounging at their posts and looking over the side. I daresay they were watching the river and trying to spot fish. I could see their neatly stacked muskets; they were not expecting trouble. Once again, the gloom aided us for they heard the hoof beats and assumed it was their own cavalry. We urged our mounts faster and I heard a Yankee shout, “Slow up you damned stupid…” He got no further for there was a double flash and a bang as the captain opened fire. We all fired at the same time. The rate of fire became more erratic as we all cocked and fired at different times but the defenders stood no chance. I saw at least two dive off the bridge into the Potomac. The ones at the far side had had the chance to grab their muskets and they raced to the middle of the bridge. That was a mistake for it shortened the range for our pistols. They knelt and levelled their weapons; the officer behind them raised his sword. I quickly emptied my two revolvers and slid them into my holsters. Danny had been correct for we could see nothing beyond the smoke. I drew my hip gun and aimed at a sergeant who suddenly loomed up at me in the middle of a knot of men. I must have been ahead of the rest for there was no smoke and I saw the back of his head erupt as the bullet killed him. I saw no more for the others fired and it was a wall of smoke through which we rode and then my pistol was empty and we were on the other side. I holstered my weapon and took out my carbine. I could see the flash of muzzles on the southern side of the bridge and knew that it was the garrison. I just aimed and fired at the flashes.
As the slaves and prisoners galloped by I thought we had made it and then I heard the cavalry bugle. Sergeant Murphy roared. “Skirmish line!” and twelve of us formed a stationary line. Four of us held our carbines whilst those at the sides had their pistols ready. The Union cavalry outnumbered us by at least five to one but they had their sabres out; even the poorest pistol has a longer range than a cavalry sabre and we had the best revolvers that money could buy.
“Steady. Hold your fire!” When they were thirty yards from us the captain shouted, “Fire!”
I fired as fast as I could until the carbine was empty. I was now without a loaded weapon so I put the carbine away and drew my sabre but, as the smoke cleared, I could see that the charge had faltered and failed. A wall of dead horses and men lay before us while the rest milled around leaderless. “Run!”
We needed no urging and we galloped up the road after the others. I still had my sabre out and I suddenly saw a soldier with his musket aiming at Dago’s back. I raised the sabre and slashed it down. It had never been used before and was razor sharp. It sliced through his kepi, his head and his face. He fell, a bloody mess and then we were in the dark and there was just the desultory pop of a hopeful musket behind us.
The slaves, prisoners and their guards were waiting for us at the top of the heights. We slowed to a halt and looked around to see who had survived. Harry grinned at me. “The luck of the Irish again!”
Sergeant Murphy came and slapped me on the back, “Luck of the Irish, my arse. Dago, you owe young Jack here your life. He sliced through a man aiming at you as though his head was a watermelon!”
Captain Boswell looked flushed with excitement. “Well done lads. Any injuries?”
We looked around and then Jedediah said, “Tom’s not here.”
Dago shook his head, “I think I saw him take a musket ball in the gut.”
Another voice piped up. “Yeah I saw him just after the bridge and he looked mighty dead to me.”
All the elation evaporated as we realised we had suffered our first casualty. We rode in silence south, the prisoners now without gags but silenced by their prospects. As dawn broke we could see Winchester in the distance. We had seen no Yankees on our way south which was a good thing as we were in no position to fight. There was an infantry road block on the northern end of the Valley Pike. They could see our grey uniforms but they wisely kept their weapons aimed at us.
“Where you fellahs from?”
The Captain jerked his hand behind him. “Came through Harper’s Ferry. We were scouting for Colonel Stuart.”
“You must have been away some time boys; he’s now Brigadier General Stuart. Are those prisoners for him or General Jackson?”
“We were sent by Stuart so I guess it will be for him.”
“What is the name of your unit sir?”
“Boswell’s Wildcats. Remember the name son.”
We rode through Winchester to the headquarters building marked by the huge flag outside. The captain sent most of the men back to our camp close to Kernstown and retained just the prisoners, the sergeant and Harry and me. I felt honoured. While the captain entered the building we three remained on guard with the prisoners, who now stood forlornly awaiting their fate.
The eldest of them said, “We thought you boys would have let us go. We were never no trouble you know.”
“I know,” Sergeant Murphy nodded, “but the thing of it is that we are at war now and you can’t behave as we would have before it started. I am sorry for your problems but I wish you well.”
A sergeant from the First Virginia came out with two armed guards. “We’ll take your prisoners off you now. Your captain will be out shortly.”
We waited, what seemed like an age and then Captain Boswell rejoined us in the company of a stern looking fellow who I discovered was the famous Thomas Stonewall Jackson although at the time he had yet to make his reputation. Captain Boswell’s face was flushed and angry and I knew why as we heard the tail end of the conversation.
“Sir I do not approve of General Stuart using irregulars and I can confirm, sir, that you will not become part of the regular army for you are not a gentleman.” He saw us. “If you and the other boys wish to join the regular army we will be more than willing to have you. We need fine fighting men like you and you will receive a soldier’s pay.”
I was about to answer when Danny held up his hand. “That’s a fine offer sir but you see we are Captain Boswell’s men and, until he tells us otherwise we’ll be serving under him.” He looked at the two of us and we nodded. “Of course we all serve the Confederacy sir.”
The captain led us, in silence to the east of the town. We said nothing for we could sense the anger and frustration. He was a real gentleman and his one indiscretion of youth was being used by his family to prevent him doing what he wanted to; to serve the South. We knew we were heading for the cavalry when we smelled the horse shit. To a cavalryman it is the smell of home. The captain rode straight up to the tent of J.E.B. Stuart. When the famous horseman came out of his tent I was surprised for he looked quite small and slight. His reputation as a fearsome cavalryman made me think he would be a giant. He had a fine beard and long hair.
He strode up to Captain Boswell and clasped him by the hand, “Well done James, well done. You have bloodied the Yankee’s noses for sure.”
I looked at the others in surprise. How could he have heard about Harper’s Ferry? The Captain gave a wry smile. “If I might sir, give you a full report?”
“Of course. Gentlemen, please take a seat.”
We sat down on the wooden chairs outside of his tent. We felt awkward but we had been invited to sit and we did although tiredness and hunger were taking over. The captain explained about the train and the horses finally describing our charge through the lines.
The little General almost bounced up and down on his chair. “Bully sir! Bully for you!” He looked at my holster. “Sir could I examine your gun?”
“Of course,” and I handed it over.
“And your men have three of these?”
“And a Springfield or a Henry carbine too.”
He looked down the barrel and turned the gun in his hands. “I wish we had these for all our cavalry.” He looked at Sergeant Murphy who was filling his pipe. “And you sent a company of cavalry packing sergeant?”
“Sure sir and they must have all been married men for they could not face the lads.” He looked proudly at Harry and me. “With all due respect sir, these boys are the finest light cavalry in the South and it is a shame that they can’t fight with the army.”
“Not now Daniel.”
“No James, your sergeant is right. It is a shame but the army’s loss is my gain. Will you continue to scout for me? And perhaps undertake some other missions for me?”
“Of course sir. We are camped down on Middle Road, close to Kernstown.”
“Good. I’ll arrange for some supplies for you. Anything else you need?”
The Captain grinned. “When we destroyed the train we found some Yankee ammunition for our carbines and pistols and we have quite a few spare horses. At the moment sir, we are in profit and, until my men get paid, that will be how we will operate.”
“You know Jackson calls you bandits?”
“He can call me any damned thing he likes for we know we are patriots.”
“Good. Then let us get you a wagon and some supplies.”
When we returned to our men we had food, blankets, canteens and slouch hats. The latter were appropriated by the sergeant and, as we rode back he explained why. “You see lads if we are to be ghosts then we need to change our appearances; the slouch hats one day the kepi the next. We’ll keep the Yankees guessing and they will think we are twice the number we actually are.”
The camp was already set up when we arrived and Dago had made a rope corral for our herd. We did not need to hunt as we had supplies and, while the slaves cooked, we cleaned and loaded our weapons. One of the items we had been given by Stuart was a cartridge belt for each man. We already had one but it meant we could carry twice as many rounds now. We spent a week in camp before we were sent on our next mission. In fact there were two missions. Dago, Smithy and six others were sent to escort Jedediah Hotchkiss to make maps for the general. This annoyed Danny Murphy. “Sure and General Jackson is a hypocritical bastard. He won’t give the captain a commission and yet he will use us to carry out the jobs he needs doing.”
“Never mind Sergeant, at least we are acknowledged and we are serving the Confederacy. These maps will help us to win the war. Our mission is simpler. We have to scout Romney across to Harper’s Ferry. I suspect we will have more action there.”
There were eleven of us who headed to the north east that day. It was new country for all of us and we would be in the western half of Virginia. The land rose steeply to the Allegheny range of mountains which had made such an imposing barrier to the early settlers. We hoped that we could gather much intelligence from the people of that area for most of them would be supporters of the rebellion. In that we were proved wrong.
We headed west along the main road which went almost directly towards Romney. Pairs of us would scout on either flank to look for signs of the enemy and to find information from the locals. That close to Winchester the people knew nothing of the enemy other than they were at Harper’s Ferry. Once we neared Romney we began to hear rumours of blue coats in the vicinity. Annoyingly we saw no signs of them but the farmers we met talked of blue columns in the distance. As it was March the farmers were busy in their fields and so the Captain was tempted to believe them. He sent Jedediah back to Winchester with the news that there might be a Union force close by and we headed south figuring that the Union forces might well have been heading into the Shenandoah Valley. We headed south and camped in a sheltered spot in the mountains. There were trees for shelter but we were all nervous as we were not sure where the enemy would be. We were supposed to find them and not the other way around.
Guard duty is more nerve wracking than a watch on a ship. You know what might happen at sea- a change in the wind, a squall, a storm. Each eventuality could be planned for. Picket duty, sat on your horse watching the dark was a different beast. Was that shadow the moon? Was it an animal or was it a soldier sneaking up to slit your throat? With so few men we had a picket which was one hour on and two hours off. It helped to keep us concentrated on the task in hand. Even so, when we rose the next day I could see the red rimmed, tired eyes which were an indication of the stressful night we had spent.
We were just a little short of Moorefield when Jedediah found us. He was out of breath and his horse was frothing. He had ridden hard. “Sir! The Yankees are in Winchester and the General has taken the army south towards Mount Jackson.”
There was a stunned silence. What did we do next? Captain Boswell was a good officer but he was an even better leader. He smiled. “Well I hope the darkies keep the camp hidden but, for us, it changes nothing. We are heading in the same direction as the General and we are only twenty or so mile from Mount Jackson. What say we see where the Yankees are and then ride to the General?”
It seemed so simple when he told us that and we trotted down the road. There was a river running towards the town and we watered our horses. Suddenly there was the sound of a musket and a chunk of wood flew from the tree by the Sergeant’s head.
“What the…”
Before we could react, a column of cavalry appeared out of nowhere. There had to be half a company at least. We didn’t wait for orders. We took out our carbines and began firing. The range was over a hundred yards but they were a big target and our first volley took out men and horses. Their commander was no fool and he halted them and began to change into line formation. Captain Boswell took his opportunity. “Right boys; get across the river and into the forest. We now know where the Yanks are. Let’s get the hell out of here and tell General Jackson.”
Jamming my carbine back in its holster I wheeled Copper around and plunged into the icy waters. I hoped that the Yankee cavalry did not have carbines such as ours for the passage through the river would slow us up and we would be easier targets. I urged Copper on and felt a sense of relief as his hooves found purchase on the river bed. I turned to watch the rest of the patrol. Sergeant Murphy was struggling as he was a big man. I could see the eager cavalry closing on him. I took out one of my Colts and aimed at the horse of the nearest man. It was a long shot but a horse is a big target. I was lucky and the horse shied as my bullet hit it in the shoulder. It gave Danny the time he needed and he slapped his horse hard with his reins. The rest of the patrol loosed a volley and one of them struck a trooper who fell. They raised their own carbines and the captain roared, “Let’s go!”
