Hazardous Service Major Harry Gilmor’s Account of Being Captured by Jessie Scouts

• …I returned to Richmond and reported for duty to General Early, whose head-quarters were at Staunton. He directed me to take my command to Western Virginia, as by “Special Order №137:”

• “Major H. Gilmor will take his battalion to Hardy County, for the purpose of operating in that and the adjoining counties. The companies of McNeil and Woodson, already there, will report to Major Gilmor, and be permanently under his command.” J.A. Early, Lieut. Gen. commanding Army of Valley District

To Hardy County I went, as directed, and began collecting the scattered men of my battalion, and had mustered about one hundred of my own, with two hundred of McNeil’s and Woodson’s, when I was captured on Sunday morning, February 4th, 1865, under the following circumstances.

The weather had been intensely cold for some time, and all the rivers and small streams were frozen hard enough to bear a wagon and team. I could not, therefore, think of going into camp, nor could I make a raid without killing my horses. I was endeavoring to keep my stock in good order, and have the men well clothed in readiness for a raid as soon as the weather should moderate.

The most of Rosser’s and Lomax’s cavalry were disbanded for the purpose of recruiting their horses, and the whole country was full of them. Every day they were to be met with, and I had to be very watchful lest there be Jessie scouts, provided with passes from our captured soldiers, prowling among them. I kept scouts and pickets out in every direction, but the night they came after me it was so cold and snowy that my men must have been housed in some comfortable log hut in the mountains.

Some few hours before I was captured, a party of twenty scouts, dressed in Confederate uniform, came to the house of my friend, at Moorfield, representing themselves to be Confederate soldiers from the picket-post at Lost River, for the purpose, they said, of warning me that the enemy was at Wardensville. In this way they gained all the information they required. That night three hundred cavalry, with these twenty scouts in advance, came to the house where i was sleeping and took me prisoner. 

other side of the stream. The first bullet from them whistled near my head, but I could not resist giving them a cheer, and shouting out, “Give them the devil, boys!” Some one poked a cocked pistol into my face, with the words “Hush up, or I’ll blow your brains out!” but, knowing the speaker had the fear of Major Young before his eyes, I continued to cheer the brave boys as loud as I could. The whole column was thrown into confusion, and I firmly believe that if my own little battalion could have been at hand, they would have recaptured me. Major Young, however, told me afterward that he would have killed me rather that let me retaken. The colonel wheeled the column as best he could, and moved off toward Moorfield.

I had not gone half a mile before Major Young thought it best to put me on a more indifferent horse, saying, “Colonel, I can not trust you on such a splendid animal, for you know that you will leave us if you get the smallest chance.” He was right, for I was already on the look-out for a break in the fence to make the effort. My feelings can not be imagined as I passed through Moorefield, and saw the ladies run out into the streets — some of them weeping — to bid me good-by, and express their sorrow for my situation. I tried to be cheerful, but it was hard to bear.

The night was so very cold that most of us had to dismount and walk. In passing through the mountain, I watched closely for an opportunity of breaking away and plunging down the rugged hill-side; but four men were constantly near me with pistols drawn and cocked, and no chance appeared until we got within two or three miles of Big Capon River. Here Major Young asked the colonel to turn me over to him, and let him push rapidly ahead to Winchester; but the colonel refused, and the major, becoming angry, took all his men, the scouts, off with him to Winchester. These were the only men I cared for, and I felt certain now of making my escape.

We were then some distance ahead of the main column, when Young and his men left us there were none in sight except the colonel and his orderly, the surgeon, H , and myself. We halted, and the orderly was sent back to hurry up a fresh guard for me. The doctor and H were on their horses, while the colonel and I were standing in the road in advance of them. This place, too, was a good one, on the side of a small mountain, and I made up my mind to seize the colonel before he could draw his pistol, and throw him down, and make my escape. I was about three paces from him when I formed this plan, had moved up closer to carry it into effect, and was just about to make the spring, when I was seized with an unaccountable fit of trembling, and could not move. It was not fear, for although the colonel was even a larger man than myself, powerfully made, and apparently a cool head, I knew that my success was certain; for who could stand such a sudden shock as he would certainly have received? I had been standing some time, and was very cold, but I never trembled like that except when I had an ague-chill. I can not account for it; all I know is, that to keep him from noticing it, and not dreaming that any of the scouts would return, I put my hand on H — — ‘s horse, and at length quieted my nerves, when suddenly up dashed four scouts. The snow was so deep they gave no sound of their approach. They had been sent back by Major Young for my guard. My heart sank within me; but I determined not to enter Winchester without making a strong effort to escape.

We went on the Big Capon, where the colonel camped for the night, and where we found Major Young waiting anxiously for us. He told me afterward that he did not expect to see me again; he feared I would have escaped before his scouts could get back.

We quartered in the house of a gentlemen named Beall, whose son had served with me. It was about 11 P.M., when, after a good supper, we all lay down on the floor round the fire. Major Young, with five or six of his men, were in the room, besides the colonel, surgeon, one sentinel, H , and myself. One of the scouts, who had deserted my command some time before, sat in a chair between my head and the door, with a cocked pistol in his hand. He was a consummate scoundrel and a murderous villain, and told me that he was anxious for a chance to shoot me. The room was about 14 X 15, having a door in front, one opening upon a low back porch, another into our host’s chamber, and another into I know not where. I soon discovered all of the party were very sleepy. The scouts had been drinking freely of apple brandy. I determined that I would not sleep a wink, but watch my chance.

I had drawn off my boots, placed them on the rounds of a chair-back to rest my head upon. We were much crowded together, and the colonel lay close by my side. On the other side was the door leading to the right, which I saw was locked. In less than an hour every man was snoring loudly, including the sentry at the back door, and the scout who sat at my head with his pistol in his lap. The host was inside the circle of feet, standing before the fire, quietly scrutinizing each sleeper. I made a slight motion to attract his attention, that he might see that I was awake. He looked fixedly at me. I made signs to him that I should escape, and pointed to the chamber door in an inquiring manner, to know if I could get out in that way. He became very pale, knowing the peril he would be in should he assist in my escape; nor did he know that I was what I represented myself to be, as personally I was a stranger to him.

After closely scrutinizing all the sleepers, he moved toward the chamber door, stepping carefully over them; and, though he made no sign whatever, I thought I could see, by the look he gave me from his door, that he was willing to help me. This silent parley lasted full an hour and a half, and I was becoming very anxious to make the effort, for I knew that the colonel intended to march before daylight. I sat up, and, after quietly looking around me, began to remove my boots from the chair, when one of the heavy steel spurs caught in the round and made some noise, at which the sentry at the back door raised his head, but was evidently not much aroused; and I, after some remark about the coldness of the weather, pulled on my boots, unfastened the spurs, and laid down again, pretending to sleep. In ten minutes the sentry was snoring louder than ever, and now, thought I, surely success will attend me; but just then the colonel turned over, and, in changing his position, let one knee fall across my leg. Thinking he might not be very sound asleep, I would not move till I heard him snore; then, when I tried to get free, he awoke, so I had to lie still and pretend I had merely turned in my sleep. The colonel was soon fast asleep again, and I once more thought my chance was good, when the door opened, and in walked the colonel’s orderly, who took his stand by the fire, and did not wink his eye until at daylight we were all called up to breakfast. Poor H , too, was anxious for my escape, and twice got the orderly to go out at the back door with him for water, to give me a chance.

We reached Winchester about noon, when I was separated from the other prisoners and taken to a small room in the hotel, destitute of furniture except a chair and the frame of an old bedstead. It was severely cold, but I was allowed no fire. Two sentinels, kept in the room, were instructed by the lieutenant to shoot me if I passed a line chalked on the floor. 

me, and consequently could not reply.

One of the scouts (White), a decent, brave man, brought me every day a glass of toddy; but, apart from this, I had only common army rations. I was allowed to see no one, although several ladies went to Sheridan and begged to be permitted to visit me.

So I remained there until the third day after my coming, I experiencing such “tender mercies” as are, it is to be hoped, not likely to obtain in civilized warfare, unless the latter idea is to be abandoned altogether. Ironed hand and foot — for they had also put shackles upon me — and exposed to excessive cold, my sufferings were severe.

I shall not soon forget those two days and three nights, nor shall I soon forget or forgive this inhuman treatment; and I then resolved that, when exchanged and once more free, I would iron every Federal officer that fell into my hands — a vow I prefer to think I should never have carried out.

On the morning of the third day Major young informed me that I was to be taken to some other prison, but he would not tell me where. The irons being removed, I found about twenty-five cavalrymen ready to escort me to Stevenson’s Depot, where I was to take the cars for Harper’s Ferry. Major Young had seven or eight of his scouts with him, and informed me that they would accompany me to the fort where I was to be confined. I guessed at once that Fort Warren was to be my prison, and, not long after, the major confirmed my suspicion. From first to last, he was as kind to me as it was possible for him to be, but, at the same time, he watched me like a hawk, and was already to draw his revolver. He told me frankly that he would not trust me far, for he knew I would take desperate chances to escape. He did not iron me, as he had been ordered, nor did he ask for my parole of honor, but I did not make a movement that was not quickly seen. 

somewhat intoxicated, cried out at the top of his voice, “I say, Gilmor, where is the watch some of your damned thieves stole from me on the Philadelphia train?”

Without deigning to utter a syllable, Major Young gave him a powerful blow across the mouth with the barrel of his pistol, which knocked him from the low platform. The fellow got up, with the blood streaming out, and slunk off without another word. This stopped all talk of taking me away from Major Young.

When we arrived at the Relay House, nine miles from Baltimore, Major Wengel, the provost marshal, came into the car and announced himself, saying he had thought proper to do so, because there might be some excitement in the city upon our arrival at the depot. 

at the depot. I assured him I felt not the slightest uneasiness on the subject, being confident I was in no danger, or, if so, that the means were ample for my protection.

At Major Wengel’s suggestion, we left the car from the side opposite to that generally used, and, before I could interfere, he had thrown his cloak over my shoulders, and replaced my hat with his own. He then led the way outside the depot to his office, some squares off, prompted, no doubt, by a kind feeling toward me. When near the office I was accosted by a familiar friend, who grasped me warmly by the hand, and, when he left, there was a package of bank-notes within my palm.

I spent the night in Major Wengel’s office, and lay in my overcoat on a pallet. Young and his men staid with me. Major Young provided a good supper, and, after a capital breakfast next day, given us by Major Wengel, we left in the cars, reached New York the same evening, traveled all night, and arrived in Boston at 7 A.M. on the 10th of February, 1865.

The major escorted me to the United States Hotel, where I should have enjoyed a good breakfast but for the crowd of men and women huddled together, gazing at me from every direction. Major Young kindly accompanied me about town to make some purchases, and then conducted me to my prison home. Its gate closed upon me, and I had struck my last blow for the South. Though fully entitled to my exchange as a regularly commissioned officer, it was soon quite apparent that the government designed, if possible, to keep me back among those from whom this right was to be arbitrarily withheld.

Note: “One of the scouts (White), a decent, brave man, brought me every day a glass of toddy; but, apart from this, I had only common army rations.” This scout was Jim White, First West Virginia Cavalry, and he was from Weston, West Virginia.