In a week I had rallied, and was down in Fairfax stirring up the outposts. Stuart sent me a message, that I might sell another gun for the same price. I had effected more than I had hoped. When the news of my rout reached headquarters at Fairfax Court House, a flaming despatch (which is printed in Moore's "Rebellion Record") was sent North, announcing that "within two or three days Mosby had lost 150 men, and Gen. Stahel will not let him rest until his band is exterminated." As I had all the time acted on the offensive, it was easy enough for me to get rest by keeping quiet. As I had never had one-half that number of men, of course I could not have lost them. As long as I could keep a thousand men watching on the defensive for every one that I had with me, it was a small matter who got the best in a fight.
The Count of Paris, who was a staff officer in the Union army, in his history of the war, mentions the two affairs on the railroad, and says: "In Washington itself, Gen. Heintzelman was in command, who, beside the depots, the regiments under instruction, and the artillery in the forts, had under his control several thousand infantry ready to take the field, and Stahel's division of cavalry, numbering 6000 horses, whose only task was to pursue Mosby and the few hundred partisans led by this daring chief." If Pleasanton had had those 6000 sabres with him a few days after this, on June 9, 1863, in his great cavalry combat with Stuart at Brandy Station, the result might have been different. Hooker had asked for them, but had been refused, on the ground that they could not be spared from the defence of Washington.[3]
CHAPTER XII.
"Fight as thy fathers fought,
Fall as thy fathers fell!
Thy task is taught, thy shroud is wrought;—
So—forward—and farewell!"—Praed.
I now turned my attention once more to the troops guarding the line of the Potomac and the defences of Washington. I was afraid that if I continued my attacks on the railroad and in the vicinity of Hooker's camps, the cavalry division of Stahel would be released from doing guard duty, and sent to the front on the Rappahannock.[4] So on June 3, only three days after I had been routed and my howitzer captured near Greenwich, I collected thirty or forty men and started once more for Fairfax. The cavalry down there had enjoyed a season of rest for several weeks. We passed by Fryingpan at night, and slept in a thicket of pines on the Ox road. John Underwood was sent forward with a squad of men to fire on the pickets or patrols. I knew that this would draw out a force in search of us the next morning. Just as I had got in a doze I heard several shots. The men burst out laughing, and said, "That's John Underwood." I had directed him to remain concealed by the roadside to watch for any scouting party of the enemy that might come out in the morning. About sunrise I received a message from him that a body of about fifty cavalry had gone up the road. In an instant we were all in our saddles; but just then Underwood galloped up and informed me that another body had passed on.
"How many do you think there are?"
"About 100," was his answer.