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  Confederate Rangers

  Book 2 in the

  Lucky Jack Series

  By

  Griff Hosker

  Published by Sword Books Ltd 2013

  Copyright © Griff Hosker First Edition

  The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  Dedication

  To all those men and women in World War Two who made such awesome sacrifices. It means we didn’t have to.

  Table of contents

  Chapter 1 Page 5

  Chapter 2 Page 30

  Chapter 3 Page 49

  Chapter 4 Page 71

  Chapter 5 Page 94

  Chapter 6 Page 118

  Chapter 7 Page 141

  Chapter 8 Page 161

  Chapter 9 Page 184

  Chapter 10 Page 206

  Chapter 11 Page 229

  Chapter 12 Page 253

  Chapter 13 Page 276

  Chapter 14 Page 297

  Chapter 15 Page 312

  Chapter 16 Page 337

  Chapter 17 Page 358

  Map Page 5

  Glossary Page 372

  Historical note Page 375

  Other books Page 378

  Chapter 1

  Leesburg October 1862

  My hands suddenly felt clammy and I didn’t know why. It was no hotter than it always was in northern Virginia. In fact, if anything, it was slightly cooler. It was not the first time I had slit someone’s throat. I had done it many times. I never enjoyed the experience but I had learned that to delay cost men their lives. I had had to learn to be ruthless. I was a sergeant now and I had the responsibility of leading others who looked to me. I knew I had to do it quickly for Dago and Cecil were waiting for me to do the deed and then they could join me and we could kidnap Colonel Nathan Black, the officer sent by Lincoln to stop the threat of the Partisan Rangers. He was a threat, not only to Boswell’s Wildcats, our company, but also to the more famous Mosby’s Rangers. If he succeeded then one of the most potent forces the Confederate Army had would be nullified. Every second I waited increased the chance of discovery. I suddenly realised what it was; he was little more than a boy. He was barely sixteen. I wondered if I should just hit him with my Army Colt. I knew that was a risk, as sometimes they called out before they blacked out. I felt my knees stiffen and I shifted position. He must have sensed the movement for he gave a half turn and I froze.

  Suddenly I heard a mew and a small ginger cat came out of the bushes and walked over to the sentry. It began entwining itself around his legs. His face changed and became a mask of hatred as he slowly reached down to pick it up. He stroked its purring head and then, suddenly, twisted and broke its tiny neck “Damned mangy bag of fleas, good riddance!” And he spat at it.

  All thoughts of mercy disappeared and I began to slip along the wall. He whirled around and pointed his rifle and bayonet at me. “Where do you think you are going? This is a restricted area!”

  In the Rangers we learn to think on our feet. I was wearing my deer hide jacket over my shell jacket and, in the dim light could be mistaken for a Union scout. He obviously had not seen me as the rebel I was or he would have shot me out of hand. I had a blank piece of folded paper in my pocket and I pulled it out. “Jeb Hawkins, the Colonel’s scout. I have a message for Colonel Black. It is important.”

  The sentry relaxed and lowered his gun. “A little late for delivering messages ain’t it?”

  I surreptitiously slipped my nine inch knife from my sheath and held it behind my back as I covered the five feet to the sentry. I held the paper up to attract and hold his attention. “The thing is this is a list of the names of Mosby’s spies in Frederick.”

  His eyes lit up. “Really? Can I see?”

  I furtively looked around and said, “Just a quick look.”

  As his face came down to read the non-existent names, I despatched him with one lethal strike of the knife. It was an instant and silent kill. More importantly there was little mess. It was efficient. I caught his gun in my left hand and lowered his body on to the swing on the porch with my right. He was a slight youth and I was strong. There was little blood to be seen. I covered his face with his kepi and laid his gun next to him. Anyone passing would think him asleep.

  I pumped my arm twice and Dago and Cecil raced up. The rest of the company were guarding the two ends of the quiet street and I needed two men I could trust.

  “You sure took your time Sarge!”

  “Listen Cecil, it is better to take your time and get the job done rather than rush and fail!”

  “Yeah Irish, you listen to the Sarge but watch me eh?”

  We had watched the house all day and knew that there were just servants, Colonel Black and his aide, a lieutenant. I thought that three of us should be able to handle them. As soon as we entered the clapboard house we used only hand signals. It was the Ranger way. I gestured for Cecil to get the servants whilst Dago and I headed for the room which had lights on; that was where the two officers would be. Of course we could be unlucky and one could have made a visit to the outhouse but those things happened. As we approached the door we heard them talking and knew that both of them were within. Lady Luck was still on our side. Dago had his Navy Colt drawn and I took out my Army Colt. They were both excellent weapons but Dago would have had one such as mine if he could. The Army Colt was a more powerful killer.

  The door was slightly ajar which made it easier for us to launch ourselves into the room. I nodded to Dago and he pushed the door open while I sprang inside. The colonel and the lieutenant were standing over a desk examining a map. They turned, expecting I think, a servant or the sentry. When they saw the business ends of two Colts they were stunned. The colonel had an expensive looking cigar in his mouth and it dropped to the floor. Dago dropped to one knee and picked it up with his free hand, never taking his gun off the colonel. “It seems a shame to waste such a fine cigar. I think I will finish that off later on.” He nipped the end and put it in his pocket.

  I smiled and saluted. “Gentlemen, if you would like to come with me. You are now prisoners of the Confederacy.”

  The colonel appeared to regain some of his composure. “You boys won’t get away with this. There is a company of cavalry bivouacked in this town and there are sentries patrolling. You’ll never escape.”

  “Well colonel, as the cavalry are at the other end of town and your one sentry is taken care of, I guess we’ll just have to take our chances.”

  Dago grinned at the disappointed face of the Yankee Colonel. “I sure would like to play poker with you colonel; you can’t bluff worth a damn.” The staff lieutenant looked as though he might make a move. Dago cocked the pistol and held it to the young officer’s head. “Now son, we need the colonel here but you are just dead weight so any trouble and you get it first.”

  Cecil popped his head around the door. “I locked them in the cellar and locked the door from the outside.”

  Dago nodded his approval. “Well done Irish, we’ll make a ranger of you yet.” He preened at the compliment.

  I waved my gun. “Head for the front door. Cecil, get their horses and whistle up the boys. I don’t want to outstay our welcome in this fine burg.”

  Dago went first, walking backwards.
As we left the house the colonel glanced down at the sentry. “I’ll have him punished! Sleeping on the job.”

  I shook my head, “Sleeping with the angels more like colonel and a warning to your boy here that we ain’t playing at soldiers. We are Rangers and the real deal.”

  They both paled at those words. “Mosby’s men?”

  “We’ll let our captain tell you that.”

  I heard a distinctive whistle and then Cecil came round with the two cavalry horses for the officers and a further two in his other hand. He was grinning and when he reached me he said, cheerfully, “It seemed a shame to leave them in the stables. Pity there were no saddles for them.”

  The hooves announcing the arrival of the rest of our men meant we could allow our prisoners to mount. “Now we could tie your hands but then, if you fell off you would break your necks so how about this? I will have a man behind each of you. You so much as lean the wrong way and you’ll lose a leg. My boys can shoot the wings off a horsefly and a knee or two will be no problem. You understand?”

  “I understand that you are a bandit and a brigand and not a soldier.”

  “Well colonel, looks like we just had our first difference of opinion and I had high hopes for some interesting discussions on the way home.”

  We knew Leesburg very well having raided it on numerous occasions. They had taken to keeping just one company in the town itself while another four were spread out around the outskirts covering the roads. It would have been an effective way of controlling us, if we had used roads but we preferred fields and lanes. We also had our base in the Blue Ridge Mountains which we now knew like the back of our hands. Our leader, Captain James Boswell had been a native of the area and we had soon picked up much of his knowledge. One trick we had learned was to behave as though we were not the enemy. We found that if we rode through a town, especially at night, then a cheery wave from us would make the locals think that we were union cavalry. Of course when that went wrong we would ride as hard and fast as we could. It helped having the finest grain fed mounts in Virginia.

  Davy brought the rest of the men and they formed a screen around our two prisoners. There were two men to each horse. We still had six men who could shoot if it came to a gunfight but we hoped it would not. “A patrol left the barracks ten minutes ago and headed south.”

  “Good.” That suited us for we would head west and then cut through Mulligan’s farm. He was a secret Confederate supporter but we only used his land to pass through knowing that his silence was guaranteed. We rode through the quiet street at a leisurely pace. Dago was behind the two Union officers. “Now if you gentlemen were thinking of shouting for help then a powerful number of people would die, you two, being the first. Let’s just get back to our camp. That way you two will still be alive.”

  I smiled to myself knowing how much it must have galled them but they were being led by some of the most terrifying enemies that there were. We were the Rangers and Yankee mothers frightened their children with tales of us coming in the night to take them away if they were bad. I saw a knot of men on a street corner. I said, quietly, “Give them a wave Colonel, and smile.”

  The wave brought a cheery response from the men and secured our exit from the town. As we reached the crossroads we kicked on a little and disappeared from sight. Of course the hardest part was yet to come. There would be night patrols and vedettes on the roads ahead. We had scouted and we estimated that they would not be patrolling where we would leave the road. We had learned by our own ingenuity not to ignore that trait in others. They could learn to be as cunning as us. So far none had shown those skills but the Yankees were getting better. “Davy and Jimmy, you two, ride ahead to the trail and make sure it is clear.”

  The wall which ran along the turnpike had a gap about a mile and a half from where we were. It made an easy way to enter the land close to Mulligan’s fields. Suddenly there was the sound of rapidly approaching horses and Davy and Jimmy reined in. “Union Cavalry, about thirty of them up ahead.”

  “Dago, you take the Union officers with John and Bill here. We’ll lead them away. See you back at the rendezvous on the other side of the farm.”

  Dago grinned. “Right Yankees, let’s see if you can jump this wall without falling off!”

  “The rest of you, over the wall and pull both your Colts!”

  I could now hear the thunder of hooves as the Union cavalry raced down the turnpike. The wall was no obstacle to us and I sighed with relief when I saw Dago wave as he led his prisoners towards the trees. There were just five of us but I was counting on surprise. The cavalry had only seen Davy and Jimmy in the distance and had no way of knowing where they had gone. They must have thought that they would hightail it down the road to the crossroads. They were in for a shock. I waited until the first of the riders was level with Cecil and then shouted, “Fire!” Ten lead balls at four yards distance can do terrible damage to both man and beast. The officer and sergeant were leading and they both fell to the ground as did the bugler. “Keep firing!” The cavalry had not bothered to draw their weapons and we fired another two rounds before they could fire back. By then they were demoralised. Two put their hands up to surrender while the rest carried on towards Leesburg. I daresay our numbers would be exaggerated. Our tiny group was often referred to as, hundreds of cavalrymen. There had never been more than forty of us.

  We had little time to waste. “Jimmy, disarm and secure the prisoners. Tie their hands around the pommels of their saddles. These boys are cavalry they should be able to manage. Cecil and Davy get the horses. You two collect any weapons and make it quick.” Every man did his job efficiently and quickly. As soon as we had cleared the road of the encounter we headed along the turnpike to take the turn off we had originally intended. Dago and his charges would have a longer route to get to the rendezvous point and we might just beat them.

  The place we were going to meet was a small track leading over the Blue Ridge. It looked as though it went north but in fact, after a mile or so it looped back on itself. We had found a perfect place to keep a sentry who could watch anyone following the trail and be in the camp warning the rest before an intruder could get close. We reined in and I loosened the ropes on the two prisoners. “Boys, you better have a drink.”

  They took out their canteens and drank. “Are you Mosby’s Ghosts?”

  Cecil snorted his derision, “Dumb ass! We are Boswell’s Wildcats! We make Mosby’s boys look like pussycats.” I shook my head; Cecil had embraced the Rangers there was no doubt about that.

  “Riders coming.”

  When we heard Jimmy’s warning we all drew and cocked our weapons. We realised that it would probably be Dago but we didn’t like to take chances. As soon as we recognised him we lowered our guns. “Colonel, you better have a drink. You won’t be getting another for quite a while.” After they had drunk I nodded to the men. “Cover their eyes. Sorry gentlemen but we ain’t gonna show you the way into our palatial little home. You will be blindfolded and one of my boys will lead you. Best keep your hands on the reins as the track is a mite steep in places.”

  None of the four were happy but with our guns aimed at their chests they had little choice. I sent Dago and the prisoners up first and then I followed with the horses and the rest of the boys. It would be dawn before we reached the rest of our company. The sentry did not speak as we passed him half an hour later. He saw the prisoners and knew he had to remain silent. I just waved to let him know that I was the last man in the line.

  We could smell the meat cooking on the open fire as we entered the clearing. The tents were all hidden in the trees as were the horses. It was a basic camp but it served its purpose for we were almost invisible. We had stumbled upon it and that was the only way we would be discovered.

  Captain Boswell and Lieutenant Murphy stood and began to walk over to us as we entered the camp proper. I could see the relief on their faces. When they had briefed me they had not been certain that we could carry out such an audacious raid. C
aptain Boswell was the disgraced son of a rich landowner who had had to make his money selling slaves. When the war broke out he had enrolled us, his men, as a group of Partisan Rangers. His family had influence and had ensured that he could not get a commission in the Confederacy. We thought that it was a shame as he was a natural leader but our independence meant that we had all accumulated money from the proceeds of our raids. The horses we had just captured would bring us $100 for each one. As we had eight of such horse that was $800 for my men to share. Then there was the money for the weapons. The Quartermaster would buy all that we captured for the Union weapons and horses were of good quality.

  “I see you brought a little extra back eh Jack?”

  “Yes captain. The Yankees tried an ambush but they forgot to take out their weapons.” I pointed at the colonel. “There is the man you wanted, Colonel Black. The lieutenant was a little feisty until the colonel had a word with him.”

  “Leave them with me, Jackie boy. You get your men fed and then get some sleep. The captain and I can take it from here.”

  Daniel Murphy’s family came from the same part of Ireland as I did and was a reassuring presence for me. “You heard the lieutenant boys. Rub down your horses then we eat. And it had better be good for I am starving.”

  Dago nodded at the fire in the middle. “It will be. It is Jed who was cook today.” Jed was not only a good hunter but skilled around the campfire and it would be a fine meal we ate that morning.

  When I awoke the camp was almost deserted. Captain Boswell had left two of his men on guard while my men slept. He had taken the rest of the troopers to Front Royal to deliver our prisoners and our horses. Cecil was already at the fire brewing up some coffee. The rest of the men called him Irish as he got into a fight if they pronounced his name incorrectly. I was the only one who used his real name correctly and, for some reason, he seemed to attach special attention to me. The others had been reluctant to accept him into the company because of his temper and his relatively poor skills as a horseman. He had become a better horseman and had learned to keep his temper. One unforeseen bonus was his amazing skill with anything mechanical. He could repair a gun better than a gunsmith and he could make anything from iron if we had a forge close by. Every time we were with the army he took advantage to fabricate or improve something we owned. I watched him from my tent as he sat close to the coffee to watch it while he repaired an Army Colt. I could tell what weapon it was from its size. He was a loner but he was as vital to the company as any of us, including me, Lucky Jack Hogan.