Jack Sterry: The Jessie Scout

An Interesting Incident of the Civil War

By B.F. Ward

            “This way, General Hood,” said the guide, gracefully saluting and pointing northward, as the head of Longstreet’s column swung toward the east.  The guide, well mounted and wearing the uniform of a Confederate cavalryman, sat at the forks of the road near the little village of White Plains, in Faquir (sic) county, Virginia. 

       The road which General Hood was taking leads to Thoroughfare Gap in Bull Run Mountain, and is the only practicable approach to the field of Manassas where Stonewall Jackson was then struggling with the army of General Pope.” 

       These are the opening paragraphs in a most intensely interesting pamphlet recently written by Col. John Cussons, of Glen Allen, Va., in which he relates, with accurate and thrilling detail, the arrest, speedy trial by drum-head court martial and execution of Jack Sterry, the Jessie Scout and federal spy, who by the most superb coolness and daring, came so dangerously near defeating General Lee’s tactics and procuring the defeat and ruin of Jackson’s corps at the second battle of Manassas. 

       General Lee had sent Jackson, by a detour of more than sixty miles, to the rear of Pope’s army.  Jackson seized Manassas Junction, destroyed all of Pope’s supplies and was practically between him and Washington City before Pope was aware of his presence.  Jackson was furiously assailed by Pope and McDowell and was fighting desperately to hold his ground until he could be reinforced by Longstreet who was rushing to his rescue. 

       Jackson’s situation was desperate in the extreme.  Pope was between him and Richmond and he was between Pope and Washington.  The long lines of the federal army were closing in around his little army that had marched and fought till it was fainting from exhaustion and Longstreet still far away. 

       The brigade to which I belonged was in Hood’s Division, which was leading Longstreet’s corps, with General Hood riding at the head of the column attended by his staff and Col. Cussons, commander of the scouts.  Cussons says it was 10 a.m. Aug. 28^th, 1862.  We were within fifteen miles of Jackson, with Bull Run mountain between us.  Thoroughfare Gap, the only available pass through the mountain was seven miles ahead of us and McDowell on the other side rushing to seize it before Hood could reach it.  The situation was desperate.  If McDowell could seize and hold the pass Longstreet would be cut off, Jackson would be crushed and the whole tide of war would be changed. 

       It was at this critical juncture that Hood encountered the handsome and dashing young cavalryman at the forks of the road; the right hand leading to Thoroughfare Gap and the left hand leading away somewhere to the north that would have made it impossible for Longstreet to join Jackson if Hood had been deceived by the bold and brilliant young fellow who saluted and announced himself as a courier from Jackson and informing Hood that McDowell had possession of the Gap and that Jackson directed him to take the left hand and endeavor to join him by way of Gum Springs from the north.  But Hood was too old a soldier to be caught, and right there begins the story of the dramatic scene between Hood and Jack Sterry told in Col. Cusson’s graphic and inimitable style.  I wish everybody could read it who appreciates and enjoys the romance of real history.  I know it to be literally true because I was present and witnessed the execution of Jack Sterry, who in half an hour after he saluted General Hood, was swinging from the limb of an oak tree that stood near the road. 

       Hood took the right hand road, passed Thoroughfare Gap, joined Jackson and Second Manassas with the route of Pope’s army went into history.  If you want to read a little unrecorded history in one of the most tragic and fascinating episodes of war, send to Col. John Cussons, Glen Allen, Va., for his little pamphlet because there is another and previous chapter in the adventurous career of Jack Sterry of which Col. Cussons has never heard and with which I happen to be acquainted, and unless Jack Sterry’s companion is still living in the north, I am the only living witness to what occurred, except what little Senator Money remembers after my calling his attention to it. 

       A day or two before the first battle of Manassas and while Johnston’s army was hurrying from the valley of the Shenandoah, through Ashby’s Gap, to unite with Beauregard.  I was in the little village of Strasburg and got dinner in the house of a widow lady, a Mrs. Eberle.  My companions were H. D. (now Senator) Money, Dr. Jas. S. Sanders and Lieutenant Albert G. Drake.  I was then six feet two inches in height and weighed about 135 pounds.  My beard had just begun to grow and I was dressed in the roundabout gray of a private in the infantry.  Two years later I was a prisoner in the City of New York. 

       After the battle of Gettysburg, when General Lee was preparing to retire, Maj. Gen. Heath [Heth] sent me an order to remain there, as surgeon-in-chief of the wounded of his division left on the ground, over 600 in number.  Each brigade in the division had, of course, its own corps of medical officers, nurses and cooks.  More than 5000 wounded Confederates were left lying on the ground besides a large number more slightly wounded who went to the rear with the army.  My associates and co-workers in Heath’s division were Dr. Southall of Virginia, Dr. Emory of Tennessee, Dr. Green of North Carolina and Dr. Parker of Mississippi.  We remained on the field three weeks until all of our wounded who had not died were distributed to different federal hospitals, when our little party was sent to New York for two or three weeks and afterwards confined for five months in Fort McHenry near Baltimore. 

       One day while in New York, a party of citizens called to take a look at us.  Among them was a very bitter south hating abolitionist who tried to provoke me into a discussion of the Negro question.  I requested him to excuse me, reminding him that I was a prisoner and that he and I could not settle that problem.  Finally he became so offensive that I fired a very hot shot at him.  In the party was a very fine looking officer, dressed in the uniform of major in the United States army.  I observed that he never spoke during our conversation.  The next day he called alone and said to the officer in charge of us that he would like to speak to the “saucy rebel” he had heard talking the day before.  He asked the officer to let him have charge of me for that day, promising he would be responsible for me.  He belonged to the regular army and was a full blooded Irishman.  He was a splendid fellow and exceedingly kind to me, offered me money which I declined as I then expected to be exchanged in a few days.  He then took me to his merchant and instructed him to let me have anything I wanted in the way of clothing. 

          Through his intercession I was given the liberty of the city without any restraint except my promise to return to headquarters at night.  This explains why I was walking about the city without a guard.  One day I was strolling aimlessly along Broadway, cautious not to get off very far for fear I would get lost, when a man stepped in front of me, bowed gracefully and said “Good morning.”  He was at least six feet tall and would have weighed 180 pounds.  He was very erect with square shoulders and the carriage of a trained soldier.  He was elegantly dressed, his hair black and eyes large, dark and penetrating, while a heavy black moustache drooped gracefully around the corners of his mouth.  His lower jaw was rather broad and firmly set as he showed his white teeth and smiled at me, he seemed to say “now I have you.”  I was uncomfortable, he saw it and was evidently amused.  He said “I think I know you.”  I replied no sir, you do not, and I certainly do not know you.  He said “yes.  I met you once.”  I asked where?  He said “in the Valley of Virginia.”  I asked at what place?  He said “two years ago I took dinner with you in Strasburg at the house of a widow lady, Mrs. Eberle, you had three friends with you.  While you were at dinner two cavalrymen came in and took seats at the table.  I sat directly in front of you on the opposite side of the table and my companion sat next to you on your right.  You asked me what cavalry we belonged to and I told you Ashby’s command.  You then asked me a number of questions about Ashby, where he was, the size of his command, etc.”  Then looking me straight in the eyes, he said, in a low, measured somewhat incisive tone, “my friend who sat on your right was hung by your people.”  The announcement went through me like a dagger of ice.  I not only remember the two cavalrymen, in their bright new unsoiled uniforms, and the conversation, but vividly recalled the features of the man who stood before me and I distinctly recalled, with a shiver, that the handsome young fellow who sat by my side at dinner, was none other than the dashing and fearless Jack Sterry, whom I had seen hanged at White Plains, but I had not the slightest idea of admitting the truth of anything he said. 

       He then told me that he saw me several months later at some other place, but said he discovered that I did not recognize him and he did not care to speak to me as he had realized that I was inclined to ask embarrassing questions.  Finally I said to him, well, I am glad my people did not hang you.  He said “yes, so am I, but it was not their fault; they would have been mighty glad to have done so.  He said “I suppose you are a prisoner?”  I told him I was.  He then said “well, you are doubtless short of funds?”  I told him I had none.  He put his hand in his pocket and said “I will be glad to help you a little if you will accept it,” but I thanked him and declined.  He then shook hands and wished to know if he could serve me in any way.  I was the more astonished that he should have so promptly recognized me because I had not shaved in two years, had gained flesh till I weighed 165 pounds and had exchanged the dress of a private for the uniform of a full surgeon with the rank of major on the collar. 

       During the succeeding winters in Virginia, while enjoying the comforts of warm clothing, furnished me by the generosity of the major, and which could not be purchased in Richmond with gold, I often reflected that an honest man seldom loses, in the long run, by speaking and defending the truth.  It was my candid statement of the facts that won me the esteem and favor of an officer of the United States army and procured my parole in the city of New York, but for which I would never have met the comrade of Jack Sterry and would never have known that the handsome young fellow I had seen executed at the forks of the roads was the same man with whom I had dined a year before when he was a federal spy in the disguise of a Confederate soldier. 

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Jack Sterry, the Jessie Scout: An Incident of the Second Battle of Manassas ...
By John Cussons, (privately printed) 1907.