James A. Ramage - Gray Ghost: The Life of Col. John Singleton Mosby

Union cavalry charging with whirling sabers against Mosby's men suddenly realized that nothing in their drills or training had prepared them for this, for Mosby threw away the rules and never fought fairly. Here was no gentlemanly thrust and parry, but revolver bullets, noise, and smoke; men falling to the ground wounded and dead; and riderless horses jumping around out of control. The Union commander was usually one of the first down, and in shock and confusion his men had the urge to drop their reins and allow their horses to behave naturally and run away. We considered that to meet Mosby and his men at close range meant certain death, and often wondered what kind of a man he was that he could give us such warm receptions, recalled an 8th Illinois Cavalry veteran.

John Singleton Mosby had no military schooling but was a lawyer and student of history and literature, quoting lines from the poetry of his favorite author, Lord Byron. He was a small, thin man5 feet, 8 inches tall and 128 poundsand an outstanding horseman who could handle a horse as smoothly as a steeplechase champion. Mounted on a magnificent gray horse, one of the fastest in the column, he led the assault, bridle reins in one hand, Colt revolver in the other. His eyes flashed, and he yelled in a high-pitched, powerful voice. In the heat of battle a transformation came over his face: deep and powerful emotions welled up, and his thin lips opened on his perfect white teeth as a satirical smile illuminated his countenance. He was no hedonisthis only luxury was freshly ground coffeebut these Civil War melees were the highest pleasure in his life.

The mounted charges and countercharges of Mosby's 43rd Battalion Virginia Partisan Rangers seemed spontaneous and unorganized, but every detail of his warfare and tactics was the result of extremely careful planning and execution by one of the most brilliant minds in the history of guerrilla war. Mosby was one of the most self-disciplined, focused, and indefatigable individuals who ever lived, and his goal was to win the crowning laurel of guerrilla war by penetrating the minds of the enemy and using fear as a psychological force multiplier. He created the illusion of ubiquity, the fear that he might appear anywhere at any time, and used this edge to operate for more than two years and three months behind enemy lines within a day's ride of Washington and still had the tactical initiative when the war ended.

Mosby specialized in overnight raids with men and horses rested and well nourished from a few days of freedom between operations. For him a perfect mission included entering the target area undetected, rapidly executing the mission, and withdrawing quickly, with no alarms raised and no fighting. He accomplished all of these goals in his most famous raid. Guided by a Union cavalry deserter, he infiltrated Union lines in Fairfax County with twenty-nine men on the night of March 8, 1863, captured Union general Edwin H. Stoughton and thirty-two men, and withdrew undetected with no shots fired. Confederate cavalry commander Gen. James Ewell Brown Jeb Stuart declared the operation a brilliant exploit and issued a special order proclaiming: The feat, unparalleled in the war, was performed, in the midst of the enemy's troops at Fairfax Court-House, without loss or injury.

Practicing the goal of never fighting fairly, Mosby ambushed the 6th Michigan Cavalry twice on the same overnight raid, and their commander, Col. George Gray, said: Mosby did not fight fairly. He surprised me, and the night before had bushwhacked some of my men. Mosby understood that success depended on accurate reconnaissance and therefore had some of the best scouts in the Confederacy, local men familiar with every road and by-path and acquainted with the people living in the target area. He often scouted himself as well, both a few days before a raid and again immediately before deciding whether or not to attack. Only he knew his plans; he told no one, and the men had no idea whatsoever where they were going until they arrived. Once the march was underway he would tell the guide, and him alone.

Adopting the fastest transportation available, Mosby's men had the best Thoroughbreds the Yankees could provide. Each Ranger had several

Normally, cavalry on the march sent up a humming sound that could be heard for hundreds of yards at night. Sabers and scabbards clanked, canteens jingled, and hooves clattered. Mosby, carefully practicing stealth, forbade sabers, canteens, and clanking equipment; his column moved so quietly that civilians lying in their beds in houses next to the road recognized when Mosby's men were passing in the nightthe only sound was the pounding of hoofbeats. Near the target he would veer off into soft fields or woods, and it was so quiet that the men could hear whippoorwills calling in the distance. Silence! Pass it back, he ordered, and from that point he directed only with hand signals. If attacking dismounted he would have the men remove their spurs and leave them with the horses and horse-holders. He walked in soft snow or used the sound of the rain and wind to cover footsteps, and once timed his final pounce with the sound of coughing by a Union horse. We made no noise, he wrote, and one of his men recalled, Our men were in among the prostrate forms of the Yankees before they were fairly awake, and they assisted some of them to unwind from their blankets.