Chapter 9: Escape

Confederate General Jubal Early and most of his staff spent Sunday evening near Gaithersburg, Maryland, a few miles north of Rockville, at the home of a very angry slave owner and Union sympathizer named John DeSellum. Mr. DeSellum was particularly unhappy because passing Rebels had pretty well cleaned him out of food and fodder before someone on the General's staff decided that his home would be a good place to locate the invading army's headquarters for the night.

The few dark hours of that July evening were hot and still, except for insects large and small, and sleep came hard even for bone-tired men. Jubal Early was up before dawn, riding forward to see that the camps were stirring, his men breakfasting on whatever they had been able to find and then moving out toward the Federal capital. All of Mr. DeSellum's chickens and ducks had disappeared as well as their eggs. His smokehouse was empty.

Washington lay, sweltering and still, only three or four hours of hard marching away. Never in all the four bloody years of the terrible war had a Confederate army come so close to the Union nerve center, to the Congress, to the Treasury, and to Abraham Lincoln. Robert Lee had not been able to do it. Thomas Jonathan Jackson, whose old brigade marched in his army, had not done it. Stuart's flamboyant horsemen had come this close, but that was just a lark, perhaps a mistake as it turned out. Now it was Early's turn. Dust, diarrhea and desertion be damned. He might not capture the city, but he was going to give Lincoln, Halleck and Grant the scare of their lives.

And if he could take Washington without risking his whole force, he would do it. If he could get them back out safely, back to the river fords, he would do it! He spurred his tired horse and found a new cigar in his pocket.

When Jubal Early reached Rockville that Monday to confer with his lieutenants, it was mid-morning. Both he and his bloodied corps were still recovering from the Saturday fight against Lew Wallace's men on the Monocacy. He sat on his dusty horse at the side of the road and watched his worn men shamble past in route step.

Seth Williams, who had been brought along in case his testimony was needed, saw the same thing General Early did. Dead tired men, their faces chalky under their farmer's tan, sunk-eyed, slack-jawed, lean-muscled, played out. They were a loose-jointed, scarecrow crew. Seth was surprised they were so ordinary looking, so ragged and worn. He had seen lots of soldiers, but none like these. They swung one leg after the other almost like machines. They bent their backs, and they carried their rifles and packs every which way, frypans dangling at their waists.

Their enemy was the sun, and their merciless foe grew stronger every hour. No quarter offered.

As Seth watched and listened from a patch of shade, cavalrymen, even General McCausland himself as Wainder pointed out, rode up and reported that there was nothing between them and the capital except for a few, scattered units, mostly mounted and lightly armed. The city's forts, they assured Early, were manned by untried militia, paroled invalids from city hospitals, and a ragtag collection of clerks from various government offices. Seth watched Early smile and spit tobacco juice at his horse's feet.

Early had worried about the Sixth Corps after that sharp fight up on the Monocacy near Frederick. He did not want to face veterans with his small army in this sad shape. But now if only militia, and some half-trained reserves held the city's defenses, probably hundred-day men, he had won the race for the capital no matter how many big cannons were in those forts.

Should be there now, Early thought, silently damning his own quartermaster's search for shoes and Rickett's brave stubborness for slowing him down. He watched his light artillery pieces jounce by and hoped they would not even be needed.

"That man," said Corporal Wainder, gesturing with his slouch hat toward the general and wiping his face on his forearm, "he is unbelievable. Some fellers say they've heard him cuss for ten minutes at a stretch without ever repeatin' hisself."

Seth looked across the road where some of Rockville's wealthier citizens, dressed in their Sunday best, stood watching the army pass by, cheering now and then when a flag appeared or some officer on horseback doffed his hat to them. Many women and quite a few girls and boys stood by buckets of water and lemonade ladling it out to grateful soldiers. Others handed out bread and biscuits. Girls gave some of the horsemen bow ribbons, and Seth saw a pretty young woman with long brown hair claim a sleeve button from an officer in exchange for her blue and red hair ribbon. She had brought her tiny scissors with her to the fence.

"I must admit," the cavalryman went on, with a smile, "that old Jubilee there, he don't like us horse soldiers very much." Seth turned his attention back to the corporal. "Calls us 'buttermilk rangers' and such. Him and Imboden had some kind of loud row a while back. Lot a'ruffled feathers. Down in Virginia, when we had our back agin the wall," Wainder was saying, sitting Indian-style in the shade, "up came old Jube, a'riding and a'cussin' and a'waving that white hat of his'n with the Stonewall Brigade right behind him, double timin'. Drove off them bluejackets jus' like that. Hadn't been for him, me an' a lot a'other cavalry fellers might be pushing up wildflowers down near Lynchburg."

In a few minutes, General Early met with some other men in the open tent where Seth had talked to Colonel Smith. An officer called over Wainder and three other dusty troopers dressed pretty much as he was. One of the general's aides rolled out a large map, the biggest Seth had ever seen, and the officers and scouts bent over it pointing and poking, holding down the upper corners with a pistol and a broken brick. Must have been a bunch of men doing what Wainder did, Seth concluded. Maybe all my lying was wasted. In the middle of the conference, Wainder straightened up and pointed to Seth, and the officers, even General Early, turned and looked toward him. Seth stared at the ground and thought about running. He wished they had put him in a dungeon or a tower cell; he had read how to get out of those.

Here was the whole Rebel army, he thought, well, a Rebel army anyway, a lot of men, hundreds, maybe thousands, marching through the streets of Rockville, and as far as I can see I'm the only Union man around. Seth closed his eyes and swallowed. Guess I am a Union man. Durn. I'm sure not here 'cause I want to be. I'm just like Robert. No, Robert was wrong. I don't know what I am. Wish I was home. Wish my hands were free. Maybe I could grab that pistol.

Finally the meeting broke up, and Seth tried to hear the orders being given. The main force of Early's army, including all the infantry and artillery, would head for Stevens and enter the city on a plank road called Seventh Street. Meanwhile McCausland's cavalry would go down the Frederick Pike and test the defenses north of Georgetown. With a long stick General Early thrust at the map and told his commanders what he expected of them, loudly and profanely. It would have been hard for Seth not to hear.

Wainder came looking for Seth and found him sitting at the side of the tent. "Could you hear what they said, boy?" Wainder asked, smiling. "They believed me." Seth had never seen the soldier look so happy. "Reno's too strong but Stevens might be empty."

"How about untying me?" the boy asked, holding his hands out toward the soldier. His chafed wrists ached, and he had given up trying to undo the knot with his thumbs.