Tag: Confederate

One hundred and sixty-two years ago this week, both Union and Confederate soldiers prepared for what would become one of the greatest battles in American history, the Battle of Gettysburg. This excerpt is from my novel, A Beckoning Hellfire, which is the second book in the Renegade Series. During this time, the Confederate cavalry was making its way north after engaging in the Battle of Brandy Station, which was the largest cavalry battle to ever take place on North American soil. This excerpt describes what General J.E.B. Stuart’s cavalry went through from June 24 through June 30, 1863.

Two days later, after being instructed to prepare three days rations, J.E.B. Stuart’s cavalry congregated in Salem, Virginia. General Stuart chose three brigades to travel with him: Hampton’s; Rooney Lee’s, now under Chambliss; and Fitzhugh Lee’s. Generals Jones and Robertson were to remain behind to guard the gaps in the Confederate army as they traveled through the Shenandoah.

Just after midnight, the troopers moved out, four abreast, riding through the cover of darkness.

“I’m tired as an old work mule,” John complained.

“I’m bored out of my gourd,” said Michael.

David was too tired to respond, and Renegade plodded wearily beneath him like he was in a trance.

They rode throughout the day and into the night. Just past midnight, word came down the line, passed from rider to rider.

“The Bluecoats are blockin’ the road ahead. We have to detour.”

The riders turned north toward Glasscock Gap in the Bull Run Mountains.

When morning sunlight finally penetrated the gap, they were traveling single file down a road no wider than a wagon. On each side, limestone rocks formed precipices of immense height. Trickling fountains sprung out from the crevices, and trees formed a dark canopy above them, so thick that rays of sunlight could only penetrate in a few places. The clatter of thousands of hooves, the creak of leather, and the clank of steel reverberated off the rocky walls. The thought crossed David’s mind that the narrow passage they were in could be a mighty tomb for all of them if the enemy trapped them in this unforgiving place, but he kept his horrible thoughts to himself.

They made their way through the gap, which took all morning. Around noon, they encountered Yankee infantry, so they fired at the Federal soldiers who marched by. The column of passing footmen was massive, spreading from north to south as far as the eye could see.

Scouts reported that every road in the area was filled with marching Union soldiers. With no other recourse, General Stuart decided to fall back into the mountains for the night.

Rain fell throughout the following day. The Rebel troopers circled southeast and found a clear path near Fairfax Court House, where “Fighting” Joe Hooker’s Union headquarters had recently been located. That night, they camped southwest of the courthouse.

David was called to picket duty once again, so he dutifully mounted up. Riding out into the darkness, he heard a fiddler softly playing “All Quiet Along the Potomac Tonight.” The song, about the death of a picket, caused a chill to run down his spine.

Riding far from camp, he met up with a few other pickets. Soon, he wandered away and came to an appropriate, lone position.

“Whoa,” he said in a low, soft voice.

He gently pulled back on Renegade’s reins. A cool breeze rustled through the trees. The moon above cast long, dark shadows across the ground. It was deathly quiet; not even a cricket chirped.

David shivered. Deciding to move around for warmth, he slid from the saddle, but stumbled in the dark. He noticed a round white rock, so he knelt down and picked it up. Oddly, it was much lighter than a rock. He turned it in his hands. Empty eye sockets bore into him, and the bony teeth grinned at him from death. Impulsively, he screamed and tossed the human skull away in panic, which sent it flying over the field. Horrified, he suddenly became aware his surroundings.

Long white bones stuck out from mounds of dirt that at one point must have served as makeshift graves. Weathered woolen uniforms and knapsacks, still intact, clung to the skeletal remains. Cannonballs sat scattered about, an eerie reminder of what had happened here.

Realizing he was in a terrible graveyard, he shuddered. For some reason, the Yankee whose head he’d lopped off popped into his head. He glanced around, expecting the headless soldier to ride out of the darkness and attack him. An owl hooted. David nearly jumped out of his skin. Anxious to depart the frightening scene, he hurried back to Renegade, mounted, and prompted his colt to trot.

For the rest of the night, David walked Renegade along the side of a road and carefully avoided the horrible scene of death. He had no need for coffee. His fright kept him wide awake.

When he returned to camp the next morning, he told Custis what he’d seen, and how he had held a dead man’s skull in his hand, just like in a scene from Hamlet.

“Oh, that must be what’s left of those poor fellers who fought over yonder last year. We’re right close to Manassas. You didn’t know that, did you, Summers?”

Wide-eyed, David shook his head.

Custis giggled. “Reckon you got a good scare, then!” He guffawed.

David scowled and strode away. He wanted to get some sleep before the orders were given to march again, so he managed to doze for a few hours before the alert came through the camp to proceed north.

General Hampton’s brigade led the way toward Fairfax Station. General Stuart, in his usual regal grandeur, galloped past them. He soon returned, ordering a charge, and the cavaliers followed their “Beau Sabreur” with unquestioning devotion. They encountered a Yankee detachment of cavalry and captured the entire regiment. Learning the Bluebellies hailed from New York, David asked one of his captives what the state was like.

“It’s the most beautiful place you’d ever care to see,” the Yankee informed him. “The trees turn the brightest colors in autumn, and the girls are all pretty and eager to keep you warm during the cold winter months!” The young man in blue smiled, seemingly unconcerned he was a prisoner, which caused his captors to scoff.

“Well, maybe I’ll git up there someday,” David said, “because I wouldn’t mind seein’ those pretty girls!”

They exchanged chuckles.

The captives were taken to the back but were later released on parole. David understood then why the Yankee soldier had been so unconcerned about his capture. He had known he wouldn’t be a prisoner for long.

The cavaliers rode to Fairfax Station. Upon arrival, they were allowed to help themselves to the abandoned sutlers’ shacks. In a flurry, they swarmed down on the goods and devoured them eagerly, indulging in ginger cakes, lobster salad, wine, ale, and whiskey while their horses grazed. It was the first real sustenance they’d consumed in quite some time, since both passing armies had already trampled and used up the land David and his comrades traveled over. The Rebel riders found gloves, hats, and shiny new boots as well, and immediately put them to use.

They resumed their march, continuing on into the night. Exhaustion forced them into more frequent stops and slowed their forward progress.

Around 3:00 a.m., they reached the Potomac River, crossing at Rowser’s Ford. The wide, ominous river roared at them.

“Gentlemen,” one of the officers commanded. “Dismount and lead your animals across.”

The horsemen obeyed. They waded out into the black water. David did the same, but as soon as he set foot in the rushing water, shockwaves ran through him. The icy water was much colder and deeper than he had imagined.  Mimicking the other troopers, he held his ammunition above his head while he made his way across. The water threatened to rush up over his shoulders. He glanced back at Renegade, who held is head high to avoid the water. One man ahead of David was nearly swept away by the current, but he managed to free himself and get across. Some of the mules brayed in complaint but quieted under the roar of the rushing water. Finally, David reached the opposite bank and struggled to keep his footing. He comforted Renegade, and wondered if either one of them could endure much more. Shivering, drenched and dripping, he watched the rest of the cavalry follow. Braying mules lurched and strained. Some were nearly pulled into the current. The ambulances, after much difficulty, lumbered across. The guns almost went beneath the water, but the mules managed to pull the heavy artillery up and through the river. Amazingly, after over an hour, Hampton’s brigade succeeded in crossing the wide river without any loss of men or munitions.

The troopers were now in Maryland, on Yankee soil. Following orders, they burned barges and mutilated boats. David didn’t mind, since they belonged to the Yankees. The men set about their destructive task with all seriousness, for they knew they could be attacked at any moment. After they carried out their orders, they were allowed to sleep for a few hours before resuming their march.

While they traveled, the commanding officers passed the word to be on the lookout for free and escaped slaves, and to capture blacks they came across. Freedmen, or contraband, were to be returned to slavery. In accordance with President Davis’ declaration on May 1, several weeks before, black soldiers who were caught fighting for the Union side were to be taken as prisoners of war. The declaration authorized their punishment; even their deaths.

The Confederates rode into Maryland. Along the route, they pillaged fields and knocked down telegraphic links connecting the army with the capital. They came upon the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal, and wrought as much damage to it as they possibly could. A few hours later, they tore up the Baltimore and Ohio rail line leading to Frederick. By mid-afternoon, they passed through Williamsport, and captured several wagons and teams from the enemy they encountered.

They reached Rockville. This being Sunday, the townsfolk were dressed in their church-going finery. As the cavalry proceeded through, sympathizers to the Southern cause waved Confederate flags and cheered from upper windows and side streets. Hampton’s brigade came upon an all-girl seminary. David and his comrades found themselves immediately surrounded by pretty young ladies in brightly-colored dresses. The cavaliers graciously accepted the girls’ admiring glances. Many of the young women waved small, improvised Confederate flags, sheet music, and handkerchiefs, while others requested souvenir buttons from the soldiers’ uniforms.

The butternut coat David wore wasn’t equipped with elaborate brass buttons. Disappointed none of the fair maidens noticed him, he could only watch while they chatted, flirted, and pinned ribbons on the uniformed troopers while asking where they were from. Some of the horse soldiers exaggerated, claiming to be from various Southern states, thus convincing the young ladies that they represented every state in the Confederacy.

A girl in a lavender cotton dress with purple ribbons in her long, dark brown hair walked over to David.

“We are so very proud of you boys,” she said, flashing a smile so radiant his heart melted.

Returning a shy smile, he replied, “Why, thank you, miss.”

Custis and John snickered, amused by his reaction.

The girl held her hand up to him. “My name’s Rebecca. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

He hesitated for a moment, then gently took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I’m David,” he half-whispered, causing his comrades to chuckle even louder.

“I was wonderin’, Mr. David, if you’d be so kind as to cut me off a piece of your hair.”

He gave her a questioning look.

“As a memento, of course,” she added. She brought her other hand from behind her back and handed him a pair of scissors.

Remembering the character from Ivanhoe of the same name, he wondered if this Rebecca was also a sorceress, and what intentions or spells she had in store for his hair. He could certainly see how brave men would fight for her honor. Grinning bashfully, he took the scissors from her and politely snipped off a lock.

As though reading David’s thoughts, Custis asked Rebecca, “Whatcha fixin’ to do with it?”

Rebecca looked over at him, still smiling. Custis’ quizzical expression faded, and a slight, enchanted smile crossed his lips.

“Why, I do believe I’ll make a bouquet with it, frame it, and hang it up in my bed chamber.”

John raised his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth curling beneath his beard. He and Custis both looked at David, as did Rebecca, who flashed her same disarming smile at him. David could feel his face blushing. Once again, the other two soldiers chuckled at his reaction.

“Thank you kindly, dear David,” Rebecca said. She handed him a sweet before pursuing another long-haired cavalier.

David sat stunned atop Renegade. For a moment, he couldn’t hear anything but his own heart thumping in his ears. A trooper from the 2nd South Carolina rode in, bringing David back to reality.

“There’s a supply train comin’ this way,” the trooper alerted them. “Sent from Washin’ton City. We reckon it’s intended for Hooker’s army.”

The horsemen quickly pulled themselves away from their admirers and spurred after their quarry. It wasn’t long before they caught up to the wagon train. Hungrily anticipating a feast, they whooped, screamed, and gave the Rebel yell. The surprised Union teamsters started to flee in panic. Some turned off onto side roads, while others at the end of the wagon train quickly reeled around and thundered back toward the capital. The raiders descended upon the frightened wagon masters, kicking up dust as they ran. They slashed their reins, produced pistols, and proceeded to gun down the teams and drivers, whose terrified mules galloped with such fury that the teamsters lost control. As a result, their wagons overturned, spilling their contents and flipping the mules onto their backs. Other wagons behind them collided, causing a pileup, and making it much easier for the Rebels to surround and contain them. The teamsters ahead of the collision lashed their mules mercilessly and barreled back toward Washington, but the Confederate cavalrymen pursued.

As Renegade thundered ahead, David leaned down from the saddle and slammed the butt of his Enfield rifle on the ground to pack the powder, shooting at the retreating wagons as he came upright. Once again in the race, Renegade’s gait was quick and smooth. For a moment, David marveled at the phenomenon. It was almost as if his little horse could fly. He nearly caught up with the end wagon before reaching a ridge. Pulling back on the reins, David abruptly forced Renegade to stop. The wagons escaped and vanished down the road to the capital.

From the hillcrest, David and his fellow cavaliers could see the unfinished dome of the Capitol Building, and all of Washington City around it. They were too close to enemy territory. David made a sharp turn and galloped back to the captured wagons. The others followed. Troopers from Chambliss’ brigade were already raiding the wagons of ham, sugar, bread, bacon, and whiskey. David and his comrades managed to filch some of the ham before being run off.

Stuart’s cavalry proceeded to take inventory of the newly-acquired bounty. The U.S. Army wagons were brand new, the harnesses were in use for the very first time, and the mules were fat and sleek. Of the 150 wagons they had chased down, 125 of them had been captured, along with 900 mules and 400 teamsters.

The Yankees were paroled that evening and released after they vowed not to return to duty as Union soldiers. The Rebel troopers fed their own horses the oats they had obtained, righted overturned wagons, and burned damaged ones. At sundown, they resumed their march north, but constant drizzle, compounded by the added hindrance of their captured wagons, made the journey painfully slow. As the Rebels traveled twenty miles to Cooksville, exhaustion ate away at them.

“Destroy the enemy’s main war artery,” General Stuart commanded.

His cavaliers demolished six miles of track, rolling stock, and station buildings belonging to the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. By the time they were finished, the oppressive summer heat bore down on them.

A train rumbled toward them. The troopers heard it and ran for their horses in hopes of capturing and destroying the engine, but the alert engineer noticed danger ahead of him, so he pulled on the brakes.

The locomotive screeched until it came to a halt. Reversing direction, it disappeared around a bend before the Rebels could catch up to it. Several other trains appeared, but those engineers also observed trouble and escaped.

The cavaliers continued on to Sykesville, where they burned a bridge and cut telegraph wires. They resumed their march, bivouacking that night near Westminster.

David shared the ham he had acquired with his messmates. While the men settled in, worn out and dusty, his mind began to wander. He thought of Jake, and how he would have reveled in the day’s excitement. Exchanging flirtations with the young women at the school would have delighted him, no doubt, and the Rebels’ merry chase in capturing the wagon train would have had him talking about it for days. Instead, David was alone with his feelings, for it was difficult to speak about personal things with his fellow troopers, even with John and Michael. It just wasn’t the same as confiding in his best friend. His heart ached with the realization Jake had been gone for nearly two months.

Pulling the pocket watch out, he clicked the cover open. There was Callie, staring back at him, radiant as ever. The sight of her face gave him some comfort. Hopefully, she was waiting for his return. He wondered if she had received his letter by now, informing her of Jake’s untimely death. He wished for some word from home, but knew it wasn’t likely to happen, since they were on the march. Lying down, he choked back sob, and closed his eyes. Exhaustion quickly overtook him.

https://www.amazon.com/Beckoning-Hellfire-Novel-Civil-War/dp/1648030777/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&dib_tag=se&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.KNH4PUaPt2QNB_TsArBe1w.5t0dHQ9PlS4ks3r63aREznsnBD_Sap5oxIja02JzK2M&qid=1750890509&sr=8-1