A fan, a glove, a whiff of perfume, an unknown female spy, and a troop of captured soldiers, taken unawares, constitute pretty good ingredients for a romance, and yet they have been part of the actual history of more than one war.

During the Civil War the Union troops occupied the territory known as Fairfax Court House for a considerable period. It was in Virginia, and might fairly be said to be “the enemy’s country.” It was one of those army outposts where the men are called upon to do a great deal of watchful waiting. The Union soldiers and the residents of the community came to know one another pretty well, and in the course of time there came that familiarity which breeds contempt of danger. There were social affairs and the people came and went as they pleased.

General Stoughton was in charge of the small Union force which was in control of the town, and there is nothing in the official reports to indicate that he was remiss in any way. But some of the men began to feel that everything was not as it should be. It was rumored that at least one of the women in the place was supplying information to the enemy. Just who it was could not be determined, but presently the word went around that the mysterious spy was known only by the letter “F.”

Mosby’s raiders were performing sensational feats in many parts of Virginia at that time, and it was hinted that they were in the vicinity of Fairfax Court House. One day one of the charming Southern girls of the town went out horseback riding with one of the Union officers. It was a delightful trip and the soldier greatly enjoyed the conversation of his companion, who was a cultivated woman, who, while naturally having much love for her own people, insisted that she had no feeling against the “Yankees.” During the return home she became separated from him, and when he rejoined her, found that she was talking to a man by the roadside, in civilian attire. Not much was thought of the incident at the time, but later it was reported that the stranger was not only connected with the Confederate Army, but was actually on the staff of the famous Mosby.

The house occupied by General Stoughton at Fairfax Court House was one of those Southern mansions which are so familiar in Virginia. It was of brick, with a porch, and covered with creeping vines which gave it a most picturesque appearance. The halls were wide and the rooms large and airy. It is not hard to imagine that the ample drawing-room must have been the scene of many festivities in ante-bellum days. In a word, it was just the sort of setting that was necessary for the remarkable adventure in which a girl, a famous scout and a captured general were to be the central figures.

One day a young Union officer entered the drawing-room of this house, and looking about him discovered a fan and a pair of gloves upon the large center table. There was the scent of a faint perfume in the apartment and following it he came across a beautiful girl to whom the articles belonged. He returned them with a gallantry which it might be supposed was foreign to a Northerner, but which as a matter of fact was quite as common as it was in those living south of Mason and Dixon’s line. He was fascinated with the girl and she betrayed just enough interest in him to make him want to dance attendance upon her. His duties were not particularly trying at that time and as a consequence he managed to spend a great deal of his time in her company.

Her name—well, he heard it, but it did not make much of an impression upon his mind. It is enough to say that from that time the war seemed to be of secondary importance compared to the ardent affection he felt for the young woman. They walked together and they talked together and he lived in a Paradise of his own making, none the less attractive because it happened to be a Fool’s Paradise. Even after the incident which caused such a stir at the time, he defended her from the charge of deceit, so far as he was concerned. But it is very evident that information concerning the conditions about the outpost began to filter into the Confederate lines. Through some mysterious agency all of the details concerning the topography of the camp found its way to General Stuart, the Confederate cavalry leader, and then one evening the thing happened which caused consternation in the North, and was received with joy and laughter in the South.

Mosby, the Confederate Guerrilla, from time to time, obtained information concerning the outpost at Fairfax Court House, and he finally determined to raid it in the hope of making some sensational captures. His little band, which had been recruited from Stuart’s Cavalry, was eager for the venture, and held themselves in readiness for the order from their chief. Mosby, who had the loyalty of his men in an intense degree, was one of the remarkable men of the Civil War. He weighed only one hundred and twenty-five pounds and was about five feet, eight inches in height. His face was clean cut and smooth shaven and he had straight, firm lips and a nose that has been described as resembling an eagle’s beak. He was just the type of man who might be expected to engage in dangerous adventure without the thought of the consequences.

The affair took place on the eighth of March, 1863. Mosby had been with his Rangers only a month, but already he was gaining a name for himself in all parts of the country. Fairfax Court House at this time was surrounded by large numbers of Union soldiers. Centreville, only a few miles away, contained a brigade of trained men. Still another brigade of mixed troops was located on the pike, near the town. This would seem to be pretty dangerous territory for a small body of raiders, but Mosby had not been receiving information for days without understanding the situation fully. He knew that there was one weak link in the chain of defenses and he knew precisely where to look for it. He proceeded in the direction of this weak spot, followed by twenty-nine of his most daring men. It was pitch dark and impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. Presently they found themselves in the Court House Square, in the center of the town. A picket coming out of the darkness called out:

“Who goes there?”

“A friend,” came the reply in a muffled voice.

“Advance and give the countersign,” came from the sentinel.

Two of Mosby’s men did advance, but they did not give the countersign. On the contrary they threw a coat about the man’s head, and before he realized what was going on he had been tied and gagged, and placed near the roadside where he was not likely to do any damage to the expedition. The men were now given specific directions by Mosby as to their duties. The proof that he had been in receipt of confidential messages from the outpost was shown by the fact that he was able to direct each of the men to the particular place where he would find a particular Union officer. They separated and went in squads to different parts of the city. Mosby was particularly anxious to capture Colonel Wyndham, because that officer had sent him a tantalizing message only a few days before; but when he arrived at Wyndham’s tent he discovered that his man was not there. As a matter of fact the officer had been summoned to Washington only that morning and thus escaped the humiliation of being captured by Mosby.

In the meanwhile, as his officers went about their various assignments, the chief raider made for the headquarters of General Stoughton. The large front door was unlocked, of course, and Mosby proceeded upstairs to the room which he knew was occupied by the Union officer. He tapped at the door and in a little while it was opened by a young lieutenant who was only partly dressed. He rubbed his eyes and demanded to know the cause of such a visit at such an unearthly hour. Mosby, who seemed to be enjoying the situation, took him to one side and ordered him to take care not to speak loudly or he would shoot him instantly. He demanded to be taken to the bedside of General Stoughton, and as the young man was unarmed, and startled into the bargain, he complied with the request. Once by the bedside the Guerrilla Chieftain gave the sleeping man a terrific whack that awakened him and brought him out of bed in a hurry. He was furious, but before he could say a word the invader said in a tragic whisper:

“Did you ever hear of John S. Mosby?”

“Certainly,” was the quick rejoinder. “Have you captured him?”

“No,” was the laughing reply, “but he has captured you.”

It was humiliating, but General Stoughton was unarmed and perfectly helpless. He was compelled to dress and to go with his captor, who by this time was reënforced by a number of his men. They went in the direction of the Court House Square where they found the remainder of the raiders, with a large number of prisoners lined up and ready for departure. There were in all, fifty or sixty prisoners and fifty-eight horses. In the darkness some of the prisoners escaped. As the party passed a dwelling in the town a voice from an upper window demanded to know who they were. It happened to be the Lieutenant-Colonel of a New York Regiment. Two of Mosby’s men were sent into the house to add him to the prizes already in hand but he managed to elude them and to escape.

But how did Mosby and his men get out of Fairfax Court House without arousing the soldiers in the vicinity? Let that be told by Mr. John W. Munson, who was one of the famous raiders, and who has written a most entertaining story of their exploits. “It was always Mosby’s care,” he says, “to get his men out of the troubles into which he led them. The troops in the town knew of his presence, but each man of them seemed to be looking out for himself, and there was no concert of action. Mosby started toward Fairfax Station to throw his pursuers off their guard, and then suddenly turned toward Centreville. To pass that point meant a great deal to him. The heavy guns looked down frowningly on him only a few hundred yards away, and the Sentinels on the works with ‘Who goes there?’ hailed him as he passed under them, but he made no reply. Silently the little troop passed along by the big guns of the forts with their prisoners and vanished into the darkness. Captain Barker, one of the prisoners, made a dash toward the fort but was shot at by one of the guerrillas and recaptured just as his horse fell into a ditch.

“One more serious danger confronted Mosby. Cub Run, just beyond Centreville, was overflowing. Back of the little band of raiders was the fort with its brigade of soldiers, soon to be, if not already alarmed; in front of them a raging torrent. There was not an instant of hesitation but, plunging into the mad stream, the whole party swam safely across, although many were carried downstream with the current. Once on the other side pursuit seemed almost impossible and, as the sun rose above the eastern horizon, Mosby breathed his first sigh of relief. Even at that hour he knew that he had graven his name in history never to be effaced. He had performed another feat entirely new in the annals of war, and one that was never to be repeated. In time he reached Culpepper Court House and turned his prisoners over to General Fitz Hugh Lee, who was a classmate of General Stoughton’s at West Point.”

In the morning Lieutenant-Colonel Johnston started in pursuit of Mosby, but it was too late to capture him or to save the prisoners who had been caught so cleverly. The news spread to all parts of the country and was given an importance far beyond its military meaning. It was humiliating, of course, but it did not have any positive effect upon the remaining days of the war. The most interesting comment, as might be expected, came from President Lincoln, who, when informed that one of his generals and a large number of horses had been captured said, dryly:

“I’m sorry about the horses. I can make Brigadier-Generals easily, but I can’t make horses.”

But the Confederates were not disposed to look upon the matter so lightly. They knew the value of such an exploit in stirring up the enthusiasm of the people, and Mosby was advertised as a popular hero. General Stuart went so far as to issue a special order proclaiming the incident. It read as follows:

“Captain John S. Mosby has for a long time attracted the attention of his generals by his boldness, skill and success, so signally displayed in his numerous forays upon the invaders of his native State.

None know his daring enterprise and dashing heroism better than these foul invaders though strangers themselves to such noble traits.

His late brilliant exploit, the capture of General Stoughton, U. S. A., two captains, thirty other prisoners, together with their arms, equipments and fifty-eight horses, justifies this recognition in General Orders. The feat, almost unparalleled in the war, was performed in the midst of the enemy’s troops, at Fairfax Court House, without loss to Virginia.

The gallant band of Captain Mosby share the glory as they did the danger of this enterprise, and are worthy of such a leader.”

Secretary of War Stanton was very angry over the incident. He felt that it was the result of bad management in permitting Union secrets to be discovered by the enemy and he was determined to know just how it had happened. Secretary Stanton sent for General Lafayette C. Baker, then Chief of the Federal Secret Service, and instructed him to make a thorough investigation and to make any arrests that might be deemed necessary. Baker had already made a survey of the grounds at Fairfax Court House, and was familiar with the incidents of the raid. He was perfectly satisfied that the Union soldiers had been betrayed by a spy. And he came to another important conclusion.

It was that the work had been done by a woman spy!

How could he ascertain the identity of the woman and how could he prove her guilt? These were not the sort of questions to be easily answered. Baker suspected the daughter of one of the leading citizens of Fairfax Court House, but he had too much experience in handling delicate matters of the war to think of arresting a woman without having proof of her guilt. It would not do to place the case in the hands of the soldiers. Their methods were likely to be crude, and besides might cause complications. He thought over the matter for some time and then he made a momentous decision. He decided to place the case in the hands of a woman operative in his own office.

It was to be a case of woman against woman!

The woman operative, who shall have to be known as Miss Clarke, prepared for her part with the greatest care. She even perfected herself in the charming Southern dialect so that she should be immediately taken for a daughter of the Sunny South. It was probably a week after the Mosby raid that a fine-looking and apparently embarrassed woman arrived at Fairfax Court House. Finally she managed to enlist the attention of the young woman who was known all through the transaction as “F.” The stranger, with feminine impulsiveness, gave her complete confidence to “F.” She said that she was greatly attached to the Confederate cause, that she was really a friend and an agent of the South and that she wanted advice and assistance in an effort to reach Warrington. “F,” who was the spy that had betrayed Stoughton to Mosby, literally received the newcomer with open arms. She took her to her own home where she was given a warm reception. Miss Clarke was given a repast which included corn muffins, and when they were placed before her she exclaimed:

“This makes me feel that I am home again in the good old South. It has been terrible to have to live in the North with those Yankees. I have never seen a corn cake since I left the Virginia line.”

Everybody laughed at this and everybody was happy. It really seemed like a family reunion. The visitor was petted and patronized and made to feel that she was a person of great importance. And why not? Wasn’t she engaged in carrying dispatches to the leaders of the Confederacy—dispatches which might result in the downfall of the Yankee Government? They forebore to ask her the nature of the confidential information which she claimed to be taking to Warrington. Naturally she would be reluctant to impart that even to such good friends as they had shown themselves.

How did Miss Clarke feel under these circumstances? Did she have qualms of conscience at the thought of eating the bread of the family she might soon be called upon to denounce? Not in the least. She knew that the young woman before her had already betrayed the Union soldiers from a sense of loyalty to her section, and Miss Clarke did not have the slightest compunction about betraying “F” in turn. But the thing was to get the proof. She could give evidence that the family of “F” sympathized with the Confederacy and was willing to do anything to aid them, but that was not sufficient for her purpose. How could she get evidence—documentary evidence if possible?

The answer came quicker than she had hoped for. “F” invited her to her bedroom, and when they had closed the door said to the visitor,

“I have something I am going to show you. I think it will interest you for we are engaged in the same cause.”

With that she reached under the mattress and brought forth a document which she handed to her visitor. Miss Clarke read it with glowing eyes. It ran as follows:

TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN, KNOW YE: That reposing special confidence in the patriotism and fidelity of “F,” I, James E. B. Stuart, by virtue of the power vested in me as Brigadier-General in the provisional army of the Confederate States of America, do hereby appoint and commission her my honorary aide-de-camp, to rank as such from this date.

She will be obeyed, respected and admired by all lovers of a noble nature.

Given under my hand and seal at the headquarters Cavalry Brigade at Camp Beverly the Seventh day of October, A. D., 1861, and the first year of our independence.

(Signed) J. E. B. STUART,
By the General: L. TIEMAN,
Assistant Adjutant General.

Here was evidence of a most damaging character. Miss Clarke could scarcely restrain her emotions at the important discovery. “F” noticed this and instead of suspecting that all was not well, took the actions of her companion as the natural expressions of feeling under the circumstances. She put a question to the other:

“Don’t you feel frightened sometimes—you are engaged in very dangerous work.”

“I know that very well,” replied Miss Clarke, “but I am sustained by the thought that I am doing it for the sake of my country.”

This was followed by an embrace on the part of the two women—both spies, but only one conscious of the true conditions. It might be supposed that having obtained proof of the identity and the complicity of “F” that Miss Clarke might go on her way. But she remained for twenty-four hours longer and in that time obtained a mass of information, not only concerning the suspected woman, but also about the location and the movement of the Southern troops. Finally she departed—departed with another kiss and embrace.

Two days later Sergeant Odell, connected with the staff of General Baker, called at the residence of one of the leading citizens of Fairfax Court House and demanded to see his daughter. The young woman came into the room.

“What can I do for you?” she asked calmly.

“You have been identified as ‘F,’ the famous Southern spy,” said the officer, “and I have come here for the purpose of taking you into custody.”

She submitted without a murmur and with a smile. Evidently she knew the danger of her calling and expected to be arrested at any time. The young woman was searched and in her possession were found a number of letters and papers from Southern officers. Also was found her commission from General Stuart which Miss Clarke had considerately left behind. At the time Odell was placing “F” under arrest other officers were making a search of her home which was still occupied by members of her family. They found quite a number of damaging papers, and also a large quantity of Confederate money. That same night “F” was taken to Washington and lodged in the old Capital prison.

General Baker, in a report upon the subject which he made to Edwin M. Stanton, the Secretary of War, enclosing this commission, said:

“This document, undoubtedly authentic and bearing the genuine signature and private seal of General J. E. B. Stuart, is of itself strong evidence of the appreciation of which ‘F’s’ treasonable services as a spy and informer were held by her Rebel employers. The proof of ‘F’s’ former employment in the service may be considered indisputable; that of her more recent services and especially in connection with the late attack upon our outpost at Fairfax Court House is not less conclusive; that proof consists in the voluntary acknowledgment and declaration by ‘F’ that she made herself acquainted while a resident within our lines at Fairfax Court House of all the particulars relating to the numbers of our forces there and in the neighborhood, the location of our camps, the places where officers’ quarters were established, the precise points where our pickets were stationed, the strength of the outposts, the names of officers in command, the nature of general orders and all other information valuable to the Rebel leaders; that such information had been communicated by her to Captain Mosby of the Confederate Army immediately before the attack on our outposts above mentioned; and that it has been in consequence of the precision and correctness of such information that Captain Mosby had been enabled successfully to attack and surprise the pickets and outposts of our forces, to find without delay or difficulty the quarters of General Stoughton and other United States officers, to capture that officer and a large amount of Government property and effect a large return within the Confederate lines.

“‘F’ also stated to my informant that Captain Mosby had, but a short time before the rebel raid at Fairfax, been a guest at ‘F’s’ house at that place, that he had remained there three days and three nights, disguised in citizen’s dress and that during such visit she had given to him all the information and details which afterward enabled him successfully to attack our forces. ‘F’ also stated that on an occasion while she was taking a ride on horseback, accompanied by a member of General Stoughton’s staff, they were met by Captain Mosby, also on horseback, but in citizen’s dress and that she and Captain Mosby recognized and saluted each other.”

The official histories of the Civil War are singularly silent regarding the fate of the celebrated “F.” Was she tried and convicted? Or was she acquitted and released? Her identity was proven, but it is not written in the records of the war, and consequently it is not given in this narrative. It is known that President Lincoln, with his shrewd, common sense, and his wonderful ability to make the best of perplexing situations, did not look upon the girl as a dreadful offender. But if he was not willing to condemn her, he was not disposed to formally condone her offense. What happened to her? Can it be possible that the door of her cell was conveniently left open one night, and that on the following morning she was not found in her accustomed place? Quite likely. At all events the reader is free to draw any conclusion he, or she, may like.

One thing certain is that she did return to her home in Virginia, and that her descendants are to-day among the residents of the Old Dominion.