June 14, 1862

June 14, 1862: Gen. Stuart’s Wild Ride, Day 3 – At Jones Bridge over the Chickahominy, one of Stuarts’ troopers grew up at a nearby plantation which had its own little-known ford.  When they arrived at daybreak, they found the river twice as wide, and fast-running, and the ford useless.  Stuart led his men to the main bridge which, of course, had been destroyed.  The Rebels spent precious time finding timbers and lumber from a nearby warehouse, and were able to lay them across the stone abutments from the old bridge, and made a tenuous walkway for one trooper at a time to lead his horse across.  As the two cannot came at the end of the line, they got more lumber and were able to make it strong enough to bring the guns, limbers, and caissons across one vehicle at a time.  Why did the Federals not catch them?  Col. Warren and his brigade were marching hard after them, and Cooke’s cavalry caught up with them.  Unaccountably, Gen. Cooke elected to walk his horsemen with Warren’s infantry, even though Warren begs him to dash after the Rebels and catch them before they cross the river.  Cooke does not heed the younger man’s advice.  Back at the crossing, just as the Confederates are leaving, a scouting party from Rush’s Lancer, a Pennsylvania regiment, show up on the north bank, and a few shots are exchanged, but the Yankees make no effort to pursue.   Stuart’s men get away clean, and as they ride along the north bank of the James River, Stuart dashes ahead and reaches Richmond with the information Gen. Lee needed, and basks in the acclaim for a brilliant raid that exposed the Army of the Potomac’s hanging right flank, but also highly embarrasses Gen. McClellan’s inability to even come close to catching the gray riders.  Southern morale gets a substantial boost, and Stuart begins to acquire the status of a legend.

---Mary Boykin Chestnut writes in her diary:

June 14th.—All things are against us. Memphis gone. Mississippi fleet annihilated, and we hear it all as stolidly apathetic as if it were a story of the English war against China which happened a year or so ago.

The sons of Mrs. John Julius Pringle have come. They were left at school in the North. A young Huger is with them. They seem to have had adventures enough. Walked, waded, rowed in boats, if boats they could find; swam rivers when boats there were none; brave lads are they. One can but admire their pluck and energy. Mrs. Fisher, of Philadelphia, née Middleton, gave them money to make the attempt to get home.

Stuart’s cavalry have rushed through McClellan’s lines and burned five of his transports. Jackson has been reenforced by 16,000 men, and they hope the enemy will be drawn from around Richmond, and the valley be the seat of war.

John Chesnut is in Whiting’s brigade, which has been sent to Stonewall. Mem’s son is with the Boykin Rangers; Company A, No. 1, we call it. And she has persistently wept ever since she heard the news. It is no child’s play, she says, when you are with Stonewall. He doesn’t play at soldiering. He doesn’t take care of his men at all. He only goes to kill the Yankees.