CSS Albemarle Sunk

150 years ago today Lieutenant William Cushing executed one of the most daring raids in United States military history – the sinking of the CSS Albemarle. Since its defeat of several Union ships in April, the Albemarle had remained in control of a sizable portion of the Roanoke River. The Federals wanted to end that, and Cushing volunteered to lead two small boats to try to sink her. He wrote this in a magazine article describing the attack:

I intended that one boat should dash in, while the other stood by to throw canister and renew the attempt [on the Albemarle] if the first should fail. It would useful to pick up our men if the attacking boat were disabled. Admiral Lee believed that the plan was a good one, and ordered me to Washington to submit it to the Secretary of the Navy. Mr. Fox, the Assistant Secretary of the Navy, doubted the merit of the project, but concluded to order me to New York to “purchase suitable vessels.”

Finding some boats building for picket duty, I selected two, and proceeded to fit them out. They were open launches, about thirty feet in length, with small engines, and propelled by a screw. A 12-pounder howitzer was fitted to the bow of each, and a boom was rigged out, some fourteen feet in length, swinging by a goose-neck hinge to the bluff of the bow. A topping lift, carried to a stanchion inboard, raised or lowered it, and the torpedo was fitted into an iron slide at the end. This was intended to be detached from the boom by means of a heel-jigger leading inboard, and to be exploded by another line, connecting with a pin, which held a grape-shot over a nipple and cap. The torpedo was the invention of Engineer Lay of the Navy, and was introduced by Chief Engineer Wood.

Everything being completed, we started to the southward, taking the boats through the canals to Chesapeake Bay, and losing one in going down to Norfolk. This was a great misfortune, and I have never understood how it occurred. … My best boat being thus lost, I proceeded with one alone to make my way through the Chesapeake and Albemarle canals into the sounds. …

The Roanoke River is a stream averaging 150 yards in width, and quite deep. Eight miles from the mouth was the town of Plymouth, where the ram was moored. Several thousand soldiers occupied the town and forts, and held both banks of the stream. A mile below the ram was the wreck of the Southfield, with hurricane deck above water, and on this a guard was stationed, to give notice of anything suspicious, and to send up fire-rockets in case of an attack. Thus it seemed impossible to surprise them, or to attack, with hope of success.

Impossibilities are for the timid: we determined to overcome all obstacles. On the night of the 27th of October [1864] we entered the river, taking in tow a small cutter with a few men, the duty of whom was to dash aboard the Southfield at the first hail, and prevent any rocket from being ignited.

Fortune was with our little boat, and we actually passed within thirty feet of the pickets without discovery and neared the wharf, where the rebels all lay unconscious. I now thought that it might be better to board her, and “take her alive,” having in the two boats twenty men well armed with revolvers, cutlasses, and hand-grenades. To be sure, there were ten times our number on the ship and thousands near by; but a surprise is everything, and I thought if her fasts were cut at the instant of boarding, we might overcome those on board, take her into the stream, and use her iron sides to protect us afterward from the forts. Knowing the town, I concluded to land at the lower wharf, creep around and suddenly dash aboard from the bank; but just as I was sheering in close to the wharf, a hail came, sharp and quick from the iron-clad, and in an instant was repeated. I at once directed the cutter to cast off, and go down to capture the guard left in our rear, and ordering all steam went at the dark mountain of iron in front of us. A heavy fire was at once opened upon us, not only from the ship, but from men stationed on the shore. This did not disable us, and we neared them rapidly. A large fire now blazed upon the bank, and by its light I discovered the unfortunate fact that there was a circle of logs around the Albemarle, boomed well out from her side, with the very intention of preventing the action of torpedoes. To examine them more closely, I ran alongside until amidships, received the enemy’s fire, and sheered off for the purpose of turning, a hundred yards away, and going at the booms squarely, at right angles, trusting to their having been long enough in the water to have become slimy—in which case my boat, under full headway, would bump up against them and slip over into the pen with the ram. This was my only chance of success, and once over the obstruction my boat would never get out again; but I was there to accomplish an important object, and to die, if needs be, was but a duty. As I turned, the whole back of my coat was torn out by buckshot, and the sole of my shoe was carried away. The fire was very severe.

In a lull of the firing, the captain hailed us, again demanding what boat it was. All my men gave some comical answers, and mine was a dose of canister, which I sent among them from the howitzer, buzzing and singing against the iron ribs and into the mass of men standing by the fire upon the shore. In another instant we had struck the logs and were over, with headway nearly gone, slowly forging up under the enemy’s quarter-port. Ten feet from us the muzzle of a gun looked into our faces, and every word of command on board was distinctly heard.

My clothing was perforated with bullets as I stood in the bow, the heel-jigger in my right hand and the exploding-line in the left. We were near enough then, and I ordered the boom lowered until the forward motion of the launch carried the torpedo under the ram’s overhang. A strong pull of the detaching-line, a moment’s waiting for the torpedo to rise under the hull, and I hauled in the left hand, just cut by a bullet.

The explosion took place at the same instant that 10 pounds of grape, at 10 feet range, crashed in our midst, and the dense mass of water thrown out by the torpedo came down with choking weight upon us.¹

A. F. Warley, the captain of the Albermarle, had thought his position weak, as the guns on land were of little use, and they were under constant surveillance from the other side of the river. Nevertheless, he respected the Federals for their attack, and said, “a more gallant thing was not done during the war.”² Cushing continued his story:

Twice refusing to surrender, I commanded the men to save themselves; and throwing off sword, revolver, shoes, and coat, struck out from my disabled and sinking boat into the river. It was cold, long after the frosts, and the water chilled the blood, while the whole surface of the stream was plowed up by grape and musketry, and my nearest friends, the fleet, were twelve miles away, but anything was better than to fall into rebel hands. Death was better than surrender. I swam for the opposite shore, but as I neared it a man, one of my crew, gave a great gurgling yell and went down.

The rebels were out in boats, picking up my men; and one of these, attracted by the sound, pulled in my direction. I heard my own name mentioned, but was not seen. I now “struck out” down the stream, and was soon far enough away to attempt landing. …

Again alone upon the water, I directed my course towards the town side of the river, not making much headway, as my strokes were now very feeble, my clothes being soaked and heavy, and little chop-seas splashing with a choking persistence into my mouth every time that I gasped for breath. Still, there was a determination not to sink, a will not to give up; and I kept up a sort of mechanical motion long after my bodily force was in fact expended.

At last, and not a moment too soon, I touched the soft mud, and in the excitement of the first shock I half raised my body and made one step forward; then fell, and remained half in the mud and half in the water until daylight, unable even to crawl on hands and knees, nearly frozen, with brain in a whirl, but with one thing strong in me—the fixed determination to escape. The prospect of drowning, starvation, death in the swamps—all seemed lesser evils than that of surrender.

As day dawned, I found myself in a point of swamp that enters the suburbs of Plymouth, and not forty yards from one of the forts. The sun came our bright and warm, proving a most cheering visitant, and giving me back a good portion of the strength of which I had been deprived before. Its light showed me the town swarming with soldiers and sailors, who moved about excitedly, as if angry at some sudden shock. It was a source of satisfaction to me to know that I had pulled the wire that had set all these figures moving (in a manner quite as interesting a the best of theatricals), but as I had no desire of being discovered by any of the rebs who were so plentiful around me, I did not long remain a spectator. My first object was to get into a dry fringe of rushes that edged the swamp; but to do this required me to pass over thirty or forty feet of open ground, right under the eye of the sentinel who walked the parapet.

Watching until he turned for a moment, I made a dash to cross the space, but was only half-way over when he turned, and forced me to drop down right between two paths, and almost entirely unshielded. Perhaps I was unobserved because of the mud that covered me, and made me blend in with the earth; at all events the soldier continued his tramp for some time.... I [regained the swamp] by sinking my heels and elbows into the earth and forcing my body, inch by inch, towards it. For five hours them, with bare feet, head, and hands, I made my way where I venture to say none ever did before, until I came at last to a clear place, where I might rest upon solid ground. The cypress swamp was a network of thorns and briers, that cut into the flesh at every step like knives, and frequently, when the soft mire would not bear my weight, I was forced to throw my body upon it at length, and haul it along by the arms. Hands and feet were raw when I reached the clearing, and yet my difficulties were but commenced. A working-party of soldiers was in the opening, engaged in sinking some schooners in the river to obstruct the channel. I passed twenty yards in their rear through a corn furrow, and gained some woods below. …

I went on again, and plunged into a swamp so thick that I had only the sun for a guide and could not see ten feet in advance. About 2 o’clock in the afternoon I came out from the dense mass of reeds upon the bank of one of the deep narrow streams that abound there, and right opposite to the only road in the vicinity. It seemed providential that I should come just there, for, thirty yards above or below, I never should have seen the road, and might have struggled on until worn out and starved—found a never-to-be-discovered grave. As it was, my fortune had led me to where a picket party of seven soldieries were posted, having a little flat-bottomed, square-ended skiff toggled to the root of a cypress tree that squirmed like a snake into the inky water. Watching them until they went back a few yards to eat, I crept into the stream and swam over, keeping the big tree between myself and them, and making for the skiff.

Gaining the bank, I quietly cast loose the boat and floated behind it some thirty yards around the first bend, where I got in and paddled away as only a man could where liberty was at stake.

Hour after hour I paddled, never ceasing for a moment, first on one side, then on the other, while sunshine passed into twilight, and that was swallowed up in thick darkness, only relieved by the few faint star rays that penetrated the heavy swamp curtain on either side. At last I reached the mouth of the Roanoke, and found the open sound before me.

My frail boat could not have lived a moment in the ordinary sea there, but it chanced to be very calm, leaving only a slight swell, which was, however, sufficient to influence my boat, so that I was forced to paddle all upon one side to keep her on the intended course.

After steering by a star for perhaps two hours for where I thought the fleet might be, I at length discovered one of the vessels, and after a long time got within hail. My “Ship ahoy!” was given with the last of my strength, and I fell powerless with a splash into the water in the bottom of the boat, and awaited results. I had paddled every minute for ten successive hours, and for four my body had been “asleep,” with the exception of my two arms and brain. The picket vessel Valley City—for it was she—upon hearing the hail at once slipped her cable and got underway, at the same time lowering boats and taking precautions against torpedoes.

It was some time before they would pick me up, being convinced that I was the rebel conductor of an infernal machine, and that Lieutenant Cushing had died the night before. …

I again received the congratulations of the Navy Department, and the thanks of Congress, and was also promoted to the rank of Lieutenant-Commander.³

1. “The Destruction of the 'Albermarle'” by William Cushing in The Century Illustrated Monthly Magazine: May 1888 to October 1888 (New York: The Century Co., 1888) p. 432-436.

2. “Note on the Destruction of the 'Albemarle'” by W. F. Warley in The Century Illustrated Monthly Magazine, p. 439-440.

3. “The Destruction of the 'Albermarle'” by William Cushing in The Century Illustrated Monthly Magazine p. 436-438.

Battle of Moorefield

McCausland

After defeating the Federal forces in the Shenandoah Valley at the Second Battle of Kersntown, Jubal Early sent his cavalry north again to raid the towns of Maryland. The troopers under the command of Brigadier General John McCausland crossed the Potomac river on July 29^th. After them was a force of Union cavalry under General William Averell. Averell positioned his men to block an attack towards Baltimore, but in the mean time the rebels captured and burned Chambersburg. McCausland then headed the other direction, into West Virginia. They attempted to cut the B&O Railroad, but were driven off by the Union garrison. When Averell received word of the Confederates' movements, he set off after them determined that they would not escape his grasp.

Averell

The Federals were badly outnumbered, with 1,760 troopers to about 3,000 Confederates, so they made a night attack. They charged into one of the two Confederate camps around 3 am. The Confederates were surprised to be awoken in the middle of the night, and those who did not flee were quickly taken prisoner. However, the commotion awakened the other camp, and they fell into line to meet the raid. Averell had already anticipated this, so at that moment they were struck on both flanks by parties of Federals. The Confederate line crumbled, and the Federals followed in hot pursuit. The Confederates lost 13 killed, 60 wounded and 415 captured. The Federals had 11 killed, 18 wounded and 13 captured.

Morgan's Raid

Morgan

On June 11th, 1863 famed Confederate cavalry commander John Hunt Morgan set off on one of his famous raids. With 2,460 picked cavalry and 4 cannon he rode north to try to distract the Federals from the Confederate armies. Riding through Tennessee, disrupting Rosecrans's communication lines, the rebels cross the Cumberland River and entered Kentucky on June 23rd. On July 4th he encountered five companies of Union infantry blocking his crossing of the Green River. In the Battle of Tebbs Bend he tried to overcome this small force for three hours, but the Federals were able to hold firm and beat back eight charges Finally Morgan acknowledged his defeat and kept riding, looking for another route.

Tebbs Bend Battlefield

The next day he surprised the Union garrison of Lebanon. A large part of the Federal forces were chased into the railroad depot where they were able to put up a good defense. Morgan had the building lit on fire, and with a final push was able to capture the building, though his brother, Lieutenant Thomas Morgan, fell in the charge.

Bragg had given Morgan permission to go wherever he wished as long has he did not cross the Ohio River, but Morgan however had no intention to obey these orders. He thought that the Federals would not be really concerned about the raid unless it struck their homeland. On July 8th he captured two steamboats and used them to cross the river into Indiana. The Union district commander, Ambrose Burnsides, send whatever troops he could to meet the rebel invaders, but Morgan brushed away his pursuers. Whenever he encountered telegraph lines he would have his telegrapher, George “Lightning” Ellsworth tap into the line and send disinformation out to the Union forces, highly exaggerating the number of the Confederate cavalry.

Riding east, Morgan's men entered Ohio on July 13th. Although he had not been caught, his raid began to fall apart. He had suffered 500 casualties and men and horses were falling by the wayside broken down in exhaustion. They headed for the Ohio river, where they planned to cross into West Virginia. He encountered militia at Buffington Island, and decided to attack the next morning. But by that time the Union forces had begun to close on the tired raiders. The Confederates now also had to face two brigades of Union troops and a fleet of gunboats. Morgan, soon realizing that the way was blocked, tried to leave a rearguard to hold of the numerous Federals and find another ford. But Union columns split up his force, and 750 Confederates were captured, Morgan escaping with only about 700.

His escape across the river cut off, so he headed north. The Ohio River was higher than normal and with the Federal cavalry close behind he could not find a place to cross the river. At one point his men began to cross, but midway through the Union gunboats and cavalry arrived. Morgan decided to remain with the half still on the Ohio side of the river while the rest made it to safety. He was finally caught near the West Virginia Pan Handle 150 years ago today with less than 400 men left. Realizing they were surrounded, the rebels tried to cut their way out. In 1 ½ hours the Confederate force was shattered, with only Morgan and a few men making it through the Federal lines. But even they wouldn't remain free for long. Knowing it was hopeless to try to head south, and seeing Union forces hot on his trail Morgan surrendered to one of his prisoners, an Ohio militia captain, who then immediately paroled his former captor. But when the Union cavalry arrived, they forced him to surrender again and refused to give him a parole.

His men had ridden 1000 miles, and achieved the furthest north reached by a Confederate force during the war. Because of incorrect rumors of what had been done to similar Northern prisoners, Morgan and his officers were sent to a prison instead of a POW camp. They were not given parole, were forced to wear convict clothes and had their hair and beards shaved. A few months later, Morgan would escape with six of his men and return to the Confederacy humiliated, having lost some of the South's best cavalry.

The Gettysburg Campaign

Due to other projects, in the past two weeks this blog has not been updated as often as usual. But since we are right up on the Battle of Gettysburg, here's a post to bring you up to speed on the campaign.

After deciding to invade the north, Lee moved his army up the Shenandoah Valley, using the mountains as a shield against prying Union scouts. On June 14th and 15th the Confederate 2nd corps under Richard Ewell defeated an army under Robert Milroy, capturing thousands of prisoners and opening the pathway to Maryland.

Joseph Hooker, commander of the Union Army of the Potomac, was in a very difficult position. He could get no intelligence of Lee's movements, as his cavalry could not penetrate JEB Stuart's shield guarding the Confederate movements. Hooker wanted a make a strike towards Richmond, since it was being left less protected, but Lincoln however would have none of it. He told Hooker that his objective was to destroy Lee's army and he had to follow him north. Hooker did not begin a serious pursuit until June 25th when he got news that Lee had crossed the Potomac. Meantime, his relations with his superiors was deteriorating. He quarreled with Henry Halleck over whether Harper's Ferry should be defended. When his orders were countermanded, he resigned command of the army. A message for George Meade arrived early on the morning of June 28th ordering him to take command of the army. When Meade was woken by the messengers, he at first thought that he was being arrested. But none the less he took command and tried to acquaint himself with the position of his and Lee's forces as quickly as possible.

Meade

As the Union army was in the midst of changing commanders, Lee's rebels were advancing into Pennsylvania. As he was advancing north into the enemy's country Lee issued orders to try to ensure the Yankee civilians were treated well:

The commanding general has observed with marked satisfaction the conduct of the troops on the march, and confidently anticipates results commensurate with the high spirit they have manifested. No troops could have displayed greater fortitude or better performed the arduous marches of the past ten days. Their conduct in other respects has with few exceptions been in keeping with their character as soldiers, and entitles them to approbation and praise. There have however been instances of forgetfulness on the part of some, that they have in keeping the yet unsullied reputation of the army, and that the duties expected of us by civilization and Christianity are not less obligatory in the country of the enemy than in our own. ...It must be remembered that we make war only upon armed men, and that we cannot take vengeance for the wrongs our people have suffered without lowering ourselves in the eyes of all whose abhorrence has been excited by the atrocities of our enemies, and offending against Him to whom vengeance belongeth, without whose favor and support our efforts must all prove in vain. The commanding general therefore earnestly exhorts the troops to abstain with most scrupulous care from unnecessary or wanton injury to private property, and he enjoins upon all officers to arrest and bring to summary punishment all who shall in any way offend against the orders on this subject.

These orders did not mean that the people of the north approved of the treatment they received. A major part of Lee's goals for the invasion was to procure supplies for his army, and they had to come from somewhere. Ewell was sent out ahead with his corps to collect supplies. He would requisition supplies and money from each town along the way. In this he was successful, collecting in two weeks 6,700 barrels of flour, 5,200 cattle, 1,000 hogs and 51,000 pounds of meat.

Stuart

Back in Virginia, important decisions had been made which would rob the army of his cavalry for the coming campaign. Stuart, smarting under his surprise at Brandy Station, wished to redeem himself with another ride around the Union army. His orders were to leave half his cavalry to guard the mountain passes, while taking the rest and joining Ewell on his right flank. Lee wrote the orders so that Stuart would have the discretion to ride around the Federal army as long as he was not delayed in his mission of protecting the army. The three brigades that Stuart took with him were his best men, and he left those of lesser quality with Lee. His ride to join Lee took longer than he expected. He did not cross the Potomac until June 28th. He cut the Army of the Potomac's communication with Washington for several hours and captured a wagon train.

Lee expected to hear news from Stuart on June 27th or 28th. However, Stuart's couriers were unable to get through to Lee. The absence of Stuart left Lee without his eyes and ears. Although Lee still did have half the army's cavalry, about 2,700 troopers, he did not use them effectively. Lee gave them few orders, and they were not proactive in anticipating his wishes to gather intelligence as Stuart would have been. They did not arrive with the main army until the battle was underway. This lack of cavalry left Lee blindfolded as he moved through foreign territory.

Lee

Meade, on the other hand, had very good intelligence. There were many friendly civilians that sent him reliable information. Meade planned to cover Washington and Baltimore. He was naturally cautious, but knew the need for boldness to catch Lee. He wrote to his wife on June 29:

We are marching as fast as we can to relieve Harrisburg, but have to keep a sharp lookout that the rebels don't turn around us and get at Washington and Baltimore in our rear. They have a cavalry force in our rear, destroying railroads, etc., with the view of getting me turn back; but I shall not do it. I am going straight at them, and will settle this thing one way or the other. The men are in good spirits; and we have been reinforced so as to have equal numbers with the enemy, and with God's blessing I hope to be successful.

Meade had three corps advancing towards Lee under John F. Reynolds, one of his most respected commanders. Behind were two more in a second line, and two out to cover the eastern flank. At the very front of the army were two brigades of cavalry under John Buford to guard the army and gather intelligence. All together Meade had over 112,000 men. He thought Lee had 100,000, but the real number was a bit lower than that. Meade's plan was to fight defensively on ground of his choosing, although he was not opposed to launching an attack if he saw a good opportunity. In accordance with this plan he issued on June 30th what was later called the Pipe Creek Circular, ordering the army to take up a position along Pipe Creek in Maryland. His engineers told him this would be a good defensive position, and it would cover the approaches to Baltimore and Washington. This order was not set out until the morning of July 1st, but before then events were unfolding that would make the Pipe Creek order unnecessary.

Because of his lack of information from cavalry scouts, Lee knew little of the Federals movements until the night of June 28th when a spy working for Longstreet reported. He said he had gone to Washington and knew that the Army of the Potomac had crossed the river and was moving northward. Lee had no choice but to act on this information. The spy was said to be reliable, and he could not ignore a threat to his rear. Therefore he ordered Ewell to abandon his advance on Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, which he was about to capture, and concentrate to the south with Longstreet and Hill to met this new threat from Meade.

As the army was concentrating on June 30th, a brigade of Hill's corps advanced towards the small town of Gettysburg to gather supplies, and there encountered Union cavalry. The Confederates fell back without engaging them. Lee had given orders that none of his commanders were to start a general engagement since the army was not yet concentrated. But A. P. Hill and Henry Heth, the division commander, did not think that there were significant Union forces in Gettysburg. Therefore Hill authorized Heth to continue on a reconnaissance in force to Gettysburg the next day, July 1.

Streight Surrenders his Mule Cavalry to Forrest

Col. Abel Streight

As Grant was preparing to cross the Mississippi River, he arranged for several feints to try to distract the Confederates from his beachhead. One of these was a raid by Abel Streight and his “Mule Cavalry.” Streight was from Indianapolis, and was a printer before the war. He rose to the rank of Colonel, but had seen no combat. He did, however, serve as part of a unit in Union-held Alabama. There he met the Union sympathizers of the area, but this contact caused him to overestimate the number of men in Alabama who supported the Union.

He proposed a plan to his commanding officer to take a mounted brigade into Alabama and strike the Western & Atlantic Railroad, an important Confederate supply line. The scheme was approved, and he was assigned 1,700 soldiers from two cavalry and four infantry regiments. But the problem was that the army didn't have enough horses to mount these troops. Instead, they were assigned mules from Tennessee farms as their mounts. Much amusement was had at the would-be cavalry's expense as they attempted to train these mounts. It didn't bode well for Streight's raid.

Streight's raid

The expedition began on April 19, 1863. Notwithstanding a temporarily shielding by 8,000 real Union cavalry, soon Nathan Bedford Forrest was on his track with the gray troopers. On April 30 he caught up with him at the Battle of Day's Gap. Forrest tried to surround him, but he was repulsed by Federal charges. Although they had a temporarily reprieve, Streight's men were doomed. Their mules couldn't keep ahead of the Confederate horses, and their position was betrayed by loud braying.

Streight burned the bridge across Black Creek after he crossed. He hoped he could make it to Rome, Georgia, ahead of Forrest, and turn and face in in the town's entrenchments. But a Confederate girl, Emma Sanson, directed Forrest to a ford across Black Creek that allowed him to continue the pursuit, and a local ferry operator made it to Rome before the Union. The citizens came out of the town and beat back the Federal advance.

Nathan Bedford Forrest

His 1,400 exhausted men were soon surrounded by Forrest, who actually had only 400 men. But Forrest paraded his men over and over again before Streight during negotiations, convincing him to surrender. When he discovered the trick Forrest had played on him, he tried to change his mind, but Forrest would have none of it. Many of the Union prisoners, including Streight, were sent to Libby Prison in Richmond. But after a year he was able to escape along with 107 others, in one of the most dramatic prison stories of the entire Civil War.

Videos courtesy of Cullman County Museum and Kelton Design.

Grierson’s Raid

Grierson and his staff

To support his latest attempt to capture Vicksburg, Grant planned several diversions to distract Confederate troops. One of these was a cavalry raid by Benjamin Grierson. Up to this point the Confederate cavalry had ridden circles around the Union cavalry, often literally. The Confederacy had produced officers like Forrest, Stuart and Morgan, but their northern counterparts were notably lacking. However, 150 years ago today, Grierson set out with 1,700 troopers to try to change that.

At first glance, Colonel Benjamin Grierson would not be considered an ideal cavalry officer. Before the war he had been a music teacher, and he hated horses after he was nearly killed by one at the age of eight. Nonetheless, his raid was very successful. He rode on routes not yet touched by Union armies, tearing up railroads, destroying stores and freeing slaves. Along the way he set off smaller unites to distract his pursuers. One of the reasons he did so well was because of a lack of major Confederate pursuit. Nathan Bedford Forrest was busy dealing with another Union raid, that one under Abel Streight.

Grierson's men on their raid, taken by a Confederate scout

Grierson brought an end to his raid on May 2, 1863, when he arrived at Baton Rouge, Louisiana. He had lost only three killed, seven wounded, nine missing, and five who fell sick and had to be left behind. Grierson would go on to rise to the rank of Major General later in the war, obtaining more successes as a cavalry officer.

John Mosby Captures a Yankee General

Mosby

John Mosby, called the “Gray Ghost” was a Confederate partisan officer operating in northern Virginia. Leading a group of men called Mosby's Rangers, he struck Union supply lines, wrecking the Union rear.

150 years ago today he performed one of his most famous exploits. “The safety of the enterprise lay in its novelty;" he wrote, "nothing of the kind had been done before." He had set out with twenty-nine men and headed toward Fairfax Court House. Passing the Union pickets in the rainy darkness, they entered the town, where the Union headquarters were established, late at night without attracting notice. Squads were sent out to round up prisoners and horses. The telegraph wire was cut, to prevent word of the attack getting out. One man captured a soldier who was a guard at the headquarters of General Edwin Stoughton. Arriving at the house, Mosby and a few men dismounted and knocked on the door. When asked who they were, Mosby answered, “Fifth New York Cavalry with a dispatch for General Stoughton.” Mosby later wrote:

The door was opened and a staff officer, Lieutenant Prentiss, was before me. I took hold of his nightshirt, whispered my name in his ear, and told him to take me to General Stoughton's room. Resistance was useless, and he obeyed. A light was quickly struck, and on the bed we saw the general sleeping as soundly as the Turk when Marco Bozzaris waked him up. There was no time for ceremony, so I drew up the bedclothes, pulled up the general's shirt, and gave him a spank on his bare back, and told him to get up. As his staff officer was standing by me, Stoughton did not realize the situation and thought that somebody was taking a rude familiarity with him. He asked in an indignant tone what all this meant. I told him that he was a prisoner, and that he must get up quickly and dress.

I then asked him if he had ever heard of "Mosby", and he said he had.

"I am Mosby," I said. ...

Stoughton

We were in a critical situation, surrounded by the camps of several thousand troops with several hundred in the town. If there had been any concert between them, they could easily have driven us out; but not a shot was fired although we stayed there over an hour. As soon as it was known that we were there, each man hid and took care of himself. ...

When we reached the rendezvous at the courtyard, I found all the squads waiting for us with their prisoners and horses. There were three times as many prisoners as my men, and each was mounted and leading a horse. To deceive the enemy and baffle pursuit, the cavalcade started off in one direction and, soon after it got out of town, turned in another. We flanked the cavalry camps, and were soon on the pike between them and Centreville. As there were several thousand troops in that town, it was not thought possible that we would go that way to get out of the lines, so the cavalry, when it started in pursuit, went in an opposite direction. Lieutenant Prentiss and a good many prisoners who started with us escaped in the dark, and we lost a great many of the horses.

They had to get though the Union lines before night and they did it, though not without a good deal of danger. Riding directly through the Union forces, within sight of the sentinels, their ride was brought to a safe conclusion after swimming an ice cold stream swollen by melting snows.

Some of Mosby's men

Battle of Parker's Crossroads

Forrest

Nathan Bedford Forrest, Confederate cavalry commander, after embarking on another of his raids on December 11th, had scored a victory at the Battle of Lexington on the 18th. He would spend the next week destroying railroad tracks crucial to the Union supply lines. As the Union forces began to move towards him, he decided to fall back before he was surrounded and destroyed. As he moved in the vicinity of Parker's Crossroads, Tennessee, he decided to turn and attack the brigade of Col. Cyrus Dunham. Dunham, encountering the Confederate artillery, fell back and formed a defensive line. Forrest ordered his troops to dismount and attack, sending columns around to hit the Union flank while making feints on the front. Forrest, in his usual methods, sent a message to Dunham demanding his unconditional surrender. Dunham refused, but as the battle continued to progress, Forrest was surprised by firing in his rear. Another Union brigade of cavalry under John Fuller had arrived, the Confederate scouts having failed to detect their approach. Outnumbered and surrounded, Forrest did not even think of surrender. "Charge 'em both ways," he ordered. The Confederate troops, turning from Dunham, struck Fuller's force, and after repulsing them moved south, escaping from their dangerous situation. After the battle, Forrest was able to cross the Tennessee River to safety. The Federals had failed to catch Forrest, even when he was in the palm of their hand.

Fuller

JEB Stuart Tricks the Yankees

JEB Stuart

Several weeks after defeating Burnside in the bloody Battle of Fredericksburg, Robert E. Lee ordered his cavalry commander, J. E. B. Stuart, to make a raid north across Union lines. He ordered him to "penetrate the enemy's rear, ascertain if possible his position & movements, & inflict upon him such damage as circumstances will permit." He set off with just less than 2,000 troopers and wreaked havoc in the Union rear, capturing 250 prisoners with their horses, wagons and supplies.

Along the way he played a memorable prank on the Union forces. Reaching a telegraph line, he had his telegraph operator tap the line, and began sending messages to confuse the Union forces. He also received valuable information regarding the Union's plans to capture him. When it was time to be moving on, he sent one final message to Montgomery C. Meigs at the War Department: “General Meigs will in the future please furnish better mules; those you have furnished recently are very inferior. J.E.B. Stuart.” With this done, he cut the telegraph lines and went on his way.

Morgan captures Lexington, Kentucky

John Hunt Morgan

 Although the Battle of Perryville was a tactical victory for the Confederates, Gen. Braxton Bragg refused to follow up on it. Ignoring the protests of subordinates like Kirby Smith, he ordered the army to fall back to Tennessee through Cumberland Gap. Confederate cavalry under John Hunt Morgan fought hard to cover his retreat and gain whatever success they could.

On the morning of October 18th, 150 years ago today, Morgan got word that there were Federals camped around Ashland, the estate of the great politician Henry Clay. He was able to completely surprise the Federals, 300 men of the 3rd and 4th Ohio, catching them asleep with his 1,800 men. The battle was over within 15 minutes, with four Union troops killed, 24 wounded and 290 captured. The Confederate success was complete, suffering few casualties themselves.

Ride Around McClellan – Day 3

Stuart's tired troops rode throughout the night under the full moon, heading toward the crossing of the Chickahominy at Forge Bridge, seven miles ahead. The prisoners were mounted on mules to speed the march. The Confederate troops began to fall asleep on their horses, slowing the column's march. At around dawn they arrived at the Chickahominy, and, instead of the slow placid ford that was expected, it was a roaring torrent. Colonel Rooney Lee dismounted and dove into the stream to see if it could be crossed. He had a hard swim, and was almost drowned before he returned to shore. “Colonel,” he was asked, “what do you think of the situation.” “Well, Captain,” he replied, “I think we are caught.” A few of the best swimmers crossed the river, including one with a message to Lee asking for diversion to be made.

Cavalry Charge later in the war

Stuart ordered axes brought up, and trees were cut down to try to cross on them, but they were too short to reach the other side. Some men built a raft, but it tipped, throwing them into the water. It was finally decided that instead of wasting more time, they had to go to the sight of the bridge which had been destroyed, and repair it in order to cross the river. Boards were brought out of a nearby warehouse and a shaky bridge was built. The troopers were able to walk across while their horses swam along side. In order to get the guns across the main beams of the warehouse were knocked down, and they were just long enough to form a proper bridge. The command was soon across, and just ten minutes after they reached the opposite bank, the outriders of the Federal cavalry rode up and opened a scattering fire. Although they had a long march back to the Confederate main body, they had escaped their worst danger.

Bridge over the Chickahominy

Stuart's expedition had been successful, and he had brought fame upon himself and his men. In his report he wrote to Lee:

The success attending this expedition will no doubt cause 10,000 or 15,000 men to be detached from the enemy's main body to guard his communication, besides accomplishing the destruction of millions worth of property and the interruption for a time of his railroad communication. The three commanders (the two Lees and Martin) exhibited the characteristics of skillful commanders, keeping their commands well in hand and managing them with skill and good judgment, which proved them worthy of a higher trust. Their brave men behaved with coolness and intrepidity in danger, unswerving resolution before difficulties, and stood unappalled before the rushing torrent of the Chickahominy, with the probability of an enemy at their heels armed with the fury of a tigress robbed of her whelps. The perfect order and systematic disposition for crossing maintained throughout the passage insured its success and rendered it the crowning feature of a successful expedition. I hope, general, that your sense of delicacy, so manifest on former occasions, will not prompt you to award to the two Lees (your son and nephew) less than their full measure of praise. Embalmed in the hearts and affections of their regiments; tried on many occasions requiring coolness, decision, and bravery; everywhere present to animate, direct, and control, they held their regiments in their grasp and proved them- selves brilliant cavalry leaders.

Later one of his aides, John Eston Cooke, said to Stuart, "That was a tight place at the river, General. If the enemy had come down upon on us, you would have been compelled to have surrendered." "No," Stuart answered, "one other course was left. To die game."

Stuart

Ride Around McClellan – Day 2

Map of Stuart's Raid

Stuart resumed his raid on the morning of June 13th. He turned his men southeast, heading toward McClellan's flank. Scouts reported the enemy near Hanover Court House. He sent Fitz Lee with his 1st Virginia around to cut the enemy off from the rear. After waiting a time, Stuart charged with the main body. A few shots were fired, and the Confederates found that Fitz Lee had gotten stuck in a marsh and the Federals were able to make their escape. The column continued, and after several more miles of marching rounded up some Federal cavalry pickets. When they were brought past Colonel Fitzhugh Lee, they greeted him with cries of “Lieutenant!” They were from the 3rd United States Cavalry, Lee's unit before the war, and a friendly reunion was had.

Fitzhugh Lee

Stuart continued on passing the marshy Totopotmoy Creek safely. After 3 pm they hit a cavalry force guarding an intersection, and immediately charged forward. A short hand-to-hand fight occurred. The leader of the Confederate squadron, Captain William Latane, fell, hit with seven bullets, after slashing the Federal commander with his saber. The Federals fell back, leaving five guidons in the hands of the rebels. At this point, Stuart had accomplished his primary mission. He had discovered that there were no major forces guarding McClellan's right flank. Now he had to decide how to return to the Confederate lines. He decided, with perhaps a little wishful thinking, that the safest way was completely around McClellan's lines, as that would be where he would be least expected. He later wrote in his report,

The route was one of all others which I felt sure the enemy would never expect me to take. On that side of the Chickahominy infantry could not reach me before crossing, and I felt able to whip any cavalry force that could be brought against me. … Besides this, the hope of striking a serious blow at a boastful and insolent foe, which would make him tremble in his shoes, made more agreeable the alternative I chose. In a brief and frank interview with some of my officers I disclosed my views, but while none accorded a full assent, all assured me a hearty support in whatever I did. With an abiding trust in God, and with such guarantees of success as the two Lees and Martin and their devoted followers, this enterprise I regarded as most promising. ... There was something of the sublime in the implicit confidence and unquestioning trust of the rank and file in a leader guiding them straight, apparently, into the very jaws of the enemy, every step appearing to them to diminish the faintest hope of extrication.

Stuart headed on to Tunstall's Station, a station on the railroad. It was guarded by a few companies of infantry, but these were quickly driven away with a saber charge. The Confederates began tearing up the railroad and searching for supplies. However, soon they heard the sound of a train whistle. Men ran to the switch which would send it to the siding, but they could not move it. As they train approached pistol shots rang out, but it continued on its way. One trooper rode along side and shot the engineer, but the train continued and escaped with his load of Union infantry. It was now near nightfall, and Stuart decided not to continue on to White House, McClellan's supply base. An attempt on that would involve more danger than even Stuart would accept. After burning what booty they could not bring along, Stuart set his men off to ride through the night towards the crossing of the Chicahominy.

Ride Around McClellan

J. E. B. Stuart

On June 10th Lee called JEB Stuart, his cavalry commander, to meet with him at his headquarters. Stuart was a brilliant young officer who had served in Virginia since the beginning of the war. He was known for his bravery and dash in brilliant engagements against the Federals. Now Lee was looking for a way to defeat the army of George B. McClellan, who was facing him just outside Richmond. McClellan's army was divided by the Chickahominy River, and Lee wanted his cavalry to examine the Federal right to get more information about its situation. Stuart asked if he could ride completely around McClellan, and Lee did not forbid it at once. The next day he sent these orders:

You are desired to make a secret movement to the rear of the enemy, now posted on Chickahominy, with a view of gaining intelligence of his operations, communications, &c.; of driving his foraging parties, and securing such grain, cattle, &c., for yourselves as you can make arrangements to have driven in. Another object is to destroy his wagon trains, said to be daily passing.... The utmost vigilance on your part will be necessary to prevent any surprise to yourself, and the greatest caution must be practiced in keeping well in your front and flanks reliable scouts to give you information. You will return as soon as the object of your expedition is accomplished, and you must bear constantly in mind, while endeavoring to execute the general purpose of your mission, not to hazard unnecessarily your command or attempt what your judgment may not approve; but be content to accomplish all the good you can without feeling it necessary to obtain all that might be desired.

Stuart picked his best units, 1,200 men in all. He awakened his staff at 2 am on June 12th, the next day. “Gentlemen,” he said, “in ten minutes, every man must be in the saddle.” The cavalry was soon moving. They rode 22 miles north, camping along the South Anna River. The raid would truly begin the next day.

Port Republic Raid

Port Republic House. Photo via CWT

As Jackson's army arrived in the Port Republic area, he divided to face both armies. Dick Ewell and his division were placed at Cross Keys facing Fremont, while Jackson's division in Port Republic faced Shield's force. On the morning of June 8th, 150 years ago today, a very embarrassing event occurred for the Confederates. The Southern cavalry under Ashby's leadership was not a model of discipline, and with his death they fell apart. This allowed a Union raiding party to penetrate the Confederate lines. They were nearly upon the Confederate headquarters before they were discovered, and Jackson and his staff had to leap to their horses in order to avoid being captured. Although Jackson escaped safely, several of his staff were in fact captured, although they were later able to make their escape. The raid was soon turned back with a last ditch defense by the small Confederate force and the arrival of troops from Jackson's main body, who were able to cross the river and brush away the Union forces. This was one of Jackson's closest shaves of the war.

The Great Locomotive Chase

The Raiders

 150 years ago today occurred one of the most exciting and romantic events of the Civil War, the Great Locomotive Chase. Federal Major General Ormsby Mithcel was planning an attack on Chattanooga, on the Tennessee-Georgia line. However, an attack would be difficult as Chattanooga was protected by high mountains and the Tennessee River. James J. Andrews, a Northern civilian, developed a plan for a raid that would cut the important railroad connecting Chattanooga, Georgia, to Atlanta, Georgia. Mitchel could then more on Chattanooga without it being able to be reinforced by rail.

Andrews convinced 22 soldiers to volunteer for the mission, along with several civilians. They went behind the Confederate lines in civilian clothes, and all but two met at their rendezvous in Marietta, Georgia without behind detected. On the morning of April 12th, they hijacked the train the General in a small town with no telegraph, while the train was stopped for the pass angers to eat. Andrews set out, planning to destroy as much of the railroad as he could along the way. He was pursued by William Fuller, the conductor, along with several other men on a handcar. He stopped a train and was able to use it to chase Andrew's raiders. At Adairsville he encountered a break in the track made by the raiders, and so he ran on foot to the other side and commandeered the Texas coming south, and started her backwards towards the General. He was still not far behind the General, because the raiders had to keep to the train's schedule to avoid an accident with a southbound train. Along the way Andrews cut the telegraph wire to keep the Confederates from letting the stations and men up the line know of the captured train. As the raiders approached Chattanooga, they were unable to destroy the tunnels and bridges because the Texas was so close behind.

The General finally ran out of fuel near Ringgold, Georgia, just 18 miles from Chattanooga. Anderson and his men scattered, but they were not able to make their escape. Within two weeks all had been rounded up and put on trial as spies, since they were wearing civilian clothing. Eight of them were hung in the first weeks of June, and then the rest tried to make their escape to avoid a similar fate. Eight were successful in traveling the many miles back to the Union lines, and the rest were treated as prisoners of war and exchanged. These men were some of the first recipients of the Medal of Honor. All but two of the soldiers were awarded it, those two being somehow lost in the shuffle. The civilians who participated, including Andrews, did not receive it since as civilians they were ineligible.