The Woman in Battle

A Narrative of the Exploits, Adventures, and Travels of Madame Loreta Janeta Velazquez, Otherwise Known as Lieutenant Harry T. Buford, Confederate States Army

Janeta Velazquez, C. J. Worthington

• Publisher: UNC at Chapel Hill Library
• Year: 2017
• Print ISBN: 9781469633190
• eBook ISBN: 9781469633206
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Military Biographies
• Index: History

Loreta Janeta Velazquez was the daughter of a Spanish official living in Cuba. As a young girl she was sent to school in New Orleans, where she ran away and married a U.S. Army officer. After the outbreak of the war, she persuaded her husband to renounce his commission and to join the Confederate forces. After he was killed in battle, Velazquez disguised herself as a man so that she could serve, eventually doing so as an officer, a spy, and a blockade runner. The Woman in Battle tells the amazing story of Velazquez's experiences in a male-dominated world, offering a unique perspective on life as a soldier and detailing her many adventures, including fighting in the First Battle of Bull Run and Shiloh, where she was allegedly wounded. Upon the book's publication in 1876, its veracity was questioned, and it continues to be debated by contemporary historians to this day.

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CHAPTER I.

CHILDHOOD.

The Woman in Battle.—Heroines of History.—Joan of Arc.—A Desire to emulate Her.—The Opportunity that was offered.—Breaking out of the War between the North and the South.—Determination to take part in the Contest.—A noble Ancestry.—The Velazquez Family.—My Birth at Havana.—Removal of my Family to Mexico.—The War between The United States and Mexico.—Loss of my Father’s Estates.—Return of the Family to Cuba.—My early Education.—At School in New Orleans.—Castles in the Air.—Romantic Aspirations.—Trying to be a Man.—Midnight Promenades before the Mirror in Male Attire.

The woman in battle is an infrequent figure on the pages of history, and yet, what would not history lose were the glorious records of the heroines,—the great-souled women, who have stood in the front rank where the battle was hottest and the fray most deadly,—to be obliterated? When women have rushed to the battle-field they have invariably distinguished themselves; and their courage, their enthusiasm, and their devotion to the cause espoused, have excited the brave among the men around them to do and to dare to the utmost, and have shamed the cowards into believing that it was worth while to peril life itself in a noble cause, and that [Page 34] honor to a soldier ought to be more valuable than even life. The records of the women who have taken up arms in the cause of home and country; who have braved the scandals of the camp; who have hazarded reputation,—reputation dearer than life,—and who have stood in the imminent deadly breach, defying the enemy, if not so imposing in numbers as those in which the deeds of male warriors are recited, are glorious nevertheless; and if steadfast courage, true-hearted loyalty, and fiery enthusiasm go for anything, women have nothing to blush for in the martial deeds of those of their sex who have stood upon the battle-field.

Far back in the early days of the Hebrew commonwealth Deborah rallied the despairing warriors of Israel, and led them to victory. Semiramis, the Queen of the Assyrians, commanded her armies in person. Tomyris, the Scythian queen, after the defeat of the army under the command of her son, Spargopises, took the field in person, and outgeneralling the Persian king, Cyrus, routed his vastly outnumbering forces with great slaughter, the king himself being among the slain. Boadicea, the British queen, resisted the Roman legions to the last, and fought the invaders with fury when not a man could be found to lead the islanders to battle. Bona Lombardi, an Italian peasant girl, fought in male attire by the side of her noble husband, Brunaro, on more than one hotly contested field; and on two occasions, when he had been taken prisoner and placed in close confinement, she effected his release by her skill and valor.

THE NUN-LIEUTENANT.

Catalina de Eranso, the Monja Alferez, or the nun-lieutenant, who was born in the city of Sebastian, Spain, in 1585, was one of the most remarkable of the heroines who have distinguished themselves by playing the masculine rôle, and venturing into positions of deadly peril. This woman, becoming disgusted with the monotony of convent life, made her escape, and in male garb joined one of the numerous expeditions then fitting out for the New World. Her intelligence and undaunted valor soon attracted the notice of her superior officers, and she was rapidly promoted. Participating in a number of hard-fought battles, she won the reputation of being an unusually skilful and daring soldier, and would have achieved both fame and fortune, were it not that her fiery temper embroiled her [Page 35] in frequent quarrels with her associates. One of her many disagreements resulted in a duel, in which she had the misfortune to kill her antagonist, and, to escape the vengeance of his friends, she was compelled to fly. After traversing a large portion of the New World, and encountering innumerable perils, she returned to Europe, where she found that the trumpet of fame was already heralding her name, and that there was the greatest curiosity to see her. Travelling through Spain and Italy, she had numerous exceedingly romantic adventures; and while in the last named country she managed to obtain an interview with Pope Urban VIII., who was so pleased with her appearance and her conversation that he granted her permission to wear male attire during the balance of her life.

Within the past hundred years more than one heroine has stamped her name indelibly upon the role of fame. All Amercans know how brave Molly Pitcher, at the battle of Monmouth, busied herself in carrying water to the parched and wearied soldiers, and how, when her husband was shot down at his gun, instead of woman fashion, sorrowing for him with unavailing tears, she sprang to take his place, and through the long, hot summer’s day fought the foreign emissaries who were seeking to overthrow the liberties of her country, until, with decimated ranks they fled, defeated from the field.

At the seige of Saragossa, in 1808, when Palafox, and the men under his command, despaired of being able to resist the French, Agostino, “the maid of Saragossa,” appeared upon the scene, and with guerra al cuchillo—“war to the knife”—as her battle-cry, she inspired the general and his soldiers to fight to the last in resisting the French invaders, and by her words and deeds became the leading spirit in one of the most heroic defences of history.

APPOLONIA JAGIELLO.

Nearer our own time Appolonia Jagiello fought valiantly for the liberation of Poland and Hungary. She had kingly blood in her veins, and her heart burned within her at the wrongs which her native country, Poland, suffered at the hands of her oppressors. When the insurrection at Cracow took place, in 1846, she assumed male attire, and went into the thickest of the fight. The insurrection was a failure, although it might not have been had the men who began it been as stout-hearted and as enthusiastic in a great cause as Appolonia [Page 36] Jagiello. In 1848 she participated in another outbreak at Cracow, and distinguished herself as one of the most valorous of the combatants. After the failure of this attempt at rebellion she went to Vienna, where she took part in an engagement in the faubourg Widen. Her object in visiting the Austrian capital, however, was chiefly to ascertain the exact character of the struggle which was in progress, in order to carry information to the Hungarians. After numerous perilous adventures she joined the Hungarian forces, and fought at the battle of Enerzey, in which the Austrians were defeated, and on account of the valor she displayed was promoted to the rank of lieutenant. After this she joined an expedition under General Klapka, which assaulted an took the city of Raab. When the Hungarians were finally defeated and there was no longer any hope that either Hungary or Poland would gain their independence, Mademoiselle Jagiello came to the United States, in 1848, with other refugees, and for a number of years resided in the city of Washington, respected and beloved by all who knew her. No braver soldier than this lady ever trod the field of battle, while the universal testimony of all who were honored with her acquaintance is, that she was a most womanly woman, and was lacking in nothing that makes true womanhood esteemed by right-thinking people.

JOAN OF ARC.

But, whenever I think of the women who have distinguished themselves in battle, my affections turn to the greatest and noblest of them all, and my imagination fires with a desire to emulate the glorious deeds of Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans. A religious enthusiast, as well as a born leader of men, and a martial genius of the first order, this great woman infused, by the power of her matchless eloquence, courage and determination into the heart of a weak, cowardly, and vacillating king, and then, seizing the banner of France, she rallied the defeated and demoralized armies, and led them with terrible effect against the British foe. At last, betrayed into the hands of her enemies, she suffered with all the unbending courage of her heroic nature, a martyrdom at the stake, which, while it embalmed her memory in the hearts of the French people, covered with shame the names of the cowardly ruffians who decreed her death on a pretended charge, because they were afraid to let her live for fear that [Page 37] her existence, even as a prisoner, would be a perpetual menace to them, and a perpetual encouragement to the French people to fight to the death. The statue of Joan of Arc, chiselled by the fair hands of a French princess, stands to-day in the market-place at Rouen where she suffered, and the memory of her glorious deeds as a great-hearted patriot remains to all time as an example of what a woman may do if she only dares, and dares to do greatly.

From my early childhood Joan of Arc was my favorite heroine; and many a time has my soul burned with an overwhelming desire to emulate her deeds of valor, and to make for myself a name which, like hers, would be enrolled in letters of gold among the women who had the courage to fight like men—ay, better than most men—for a great cause, for friends, and for father-land.

At length an opportunity offered, in the breaking out of the conflict between the North and the South in 1861, for me to carry out my long-cherished ideas; and it was embraced with impetuous eagerness, combined with a calm determination to see the thing through, and to shrink from nothing that such a step would involve.

My opportunities and my circumstances were different from those of my ideal woman, Joan of Arc, and consequently my story has but little resemblance to hers. I did all that it was possible for me to do, however, for the cause I espoused, and the great French heroine did no more. Happily I escaped her dreadful fate, and live to relate the many adventures that befell me while playing the part of a warrior. So many persons have assured me that my story—prosaic as much of it seems to me—is full of romance, and that it cannot fail to interest readers both South and North, that I have been induced to narrate it for the benefit of those who wish to make the acquaintance of a woman warrior, and to be entertained, and perhaps instructed, by a recital of her adventures. If there are any such,—and I am sure there are,—they will find in these pages an unaffected and unpretending, but truthful, and I hope interesting narrative of what befell me while attached to the army of the Confederate States of America, and while performing services other than those of a strictly military character under the pseudonyme of Lieutenant Harry T. Buford.

Hundreds, nay thousands of officers and men in the Confederate service, knew me well under this name, and although [Page 38] my disguise was finally penetrated, and I was forced to resume the garments of my sex, it is probable that a vast number of my late associates will now for the first time learn that the handsome young officer—I was accounted an uncommonly good-looking fellow, when dressed in my best uniform, in those days—was a woman, and a woman who was mentally making some very uncomplimentary notes with regard to much of their very naughty conversation. My experience is, that the language used by the very best men in masculine society is too often not such as pure-minded women would like to listen to, while that of the worst is so utterly revolting, that it is a pity some men cannot always have decent women at their elbows to keep their tongues from being fouled with blasphemy and obscenity. I hope that some of my late associates, when they learn that the Lieutenant Harry T. Buford, whose ears were so often greeted by their profanity and ribaldry, will have enough self-respect to blush with shame at having addressed the language they did to a woman, and a modest woman at that.

What I have just said will give a hint of some of the most unpleasant incidentals of the rôle which I undertook to play. I was not to be deterred, however, from carrying out my plans by the bad language I was compelled to listen to, nor by any other of the disagreeable features of camp life. How well I did play my part, happily does not depend upon my own testimony alone, for some of the most distinguished officers of the Confederate army, and many equally distinguished civilians, can and will testify to the truthfulness of the story I am about to relate, and to the unblemished character I bore while in the Confederate service. I not only assumed the garment of my sex once more with the credit of having done the state some important services, and of having labored with efficiency, courage, and energy to secure the independence of the Confederacy, but, with my womanly reputation unblemished by even a suspicion of impropriety; and I take this occasion to say, in a very positive manner, that women, if they will, may pass through the most trying scenes with unblemished reputations, and that they have much more to dread in this particular matter from the scandalous gossip of city, village, and country neighborhoods, than they have from camp associations, with all their license of language and conduct.

[Page 39] THE VELAZQUEZ FAMILY.

I have every reason to be proud of the name I bear, and of the ancestry from whom I inherited it. My father’s family is a very ancient one, and the blood which flows in my veins is that of Castilian nobles, whose deeds are intimately connected with some of the most impressive episodes of Spanish history. Reckless as some portions of my own career may seem to unthinking persons, I have the satisfaction of knowing, in my own soul, that by no act of mine has the noble name of Velazquez been brought into discredit, and that at all times, and under the most discouraging circumstances, I have ever upheld my own honor and that of my family.

Both in Spain and in the Spanish dominions on this side of the Atlantic, is the name of Velazquez well known and highly honored. Don Diego Velazquez, the conqueror and the first governor of Cuba, under whose superintendence the expedition which discovered Mexico was sent out, was one of my ancestors, and Don Diego Rodriguez Velazquez, the greatest artist that Spain ever produced, was a member of my family. It will thus be seen that I came of excellent, although somewhat fiery and headstrong stock, and, if in assuming the garments of a man, and endeavoring to do a man’s work on the battle-field, I transgressed against the conventionalities of modern society, the reader will, I am sure, charitably attribute some of the blame to the adventuresome blood of old Governor Don Diego, which I inherited, and, which fired my brain and steeled my nerves when there was a prospect held out that, despite the fact of my being a woman, I might be able to enjoy the excitements of the battlefield, and win for myself a warrior’s fame.

My father was a native of the city of Carthagena, and he received a very thorough education at the universities of Madrid and Paris. He was an accomplished Latin, French and German scholar, and spoke all these languages fluently. English he paid but little attention to until alter his marriage with my mother. Like all the members of his family, he was a very strict Catholic. Two of his brothers being in the Spanish army, and his tastes inclining him to the life of a civilian, a diplomatic appointment was procured for him, and he went to Paris as an attaché of the Spanish embassy.

It was while residing in Paris that my father became [Page 40] acquainted with the lady whom he married, and made the mother of his children. My mother was the daughter of a French naval officer, by an American lady, the daughter of a wealthy merchant. She, of course, spoke English fluently, and tried to instruct my father in it. He managed, in time, to understand it very well, but he never spoke it without some accent. My father’s marriage occurred a short time before the expiration of his term of office, and after his recall to Spain he took up his residence in the city of Madrid, where three sons and two daughters were born.

MY BIRTH.

In 1840 my father was appointed to an official position in Cuba, and two years later I, his sixth and last child, came into the world in a house on the Calle Velaggas, near the walls in the city of Havana, on the 26th of June, 1842. I was christened Loreta Janeta.

When I was almost one year old, my father fell heir to a large estate in Texas, which was then a part of the republic of Mexico. He accordingly resigned his position as an employee of the Spanish government in Cuba, and in 1844 removed with his family to San Luis Potosi, in Central Mexico. His property consisted of a very large tract of land and immense herds of cattle, and as he was a careful and accurate business man, the probabilities are, that in a short time he would have become one of the wealthiest landed proprietors of that region. Unfortunately we had scarcely been settled in our new home a twelvemonth, when the war between Mexico and the United States broke out. I was too young at the time, of course, to recollect anything of this memorable contest, although it had a potent influence on my own destiny.

THE MEXICAN WAR.

My father, so soon as war was declared, decided to take part in the conflict, and offered his services to the Mexican government to assist in expelling the invaders. His offer was accepted, and he received a commission as an officer in the army. Sending his family to the Island of St. Lucia, one of the British West Indian provinces, where my mother’s only brother resided, he took the field, and fought until the [Page 41] end of the war against the forces of the United States. During the conflict his estates were devastated and his property destroyed, and this, combined with the non-success of the Mexican arms, greatly imbittered him against the Americans, and this bitterness he retained till the day of his death.

When the war was ended, and a large portion of the northern part of Mexico ceded to the United States, my father, whose estates were included in this territory, refused to live under a government which he disliked so intensely, and he consequently abandoned his property and went to Santiago de Cuba, where he was rejoined by his family. In the mean time he had fallen heir to another valuable estate at Puerto de Palmas, and settling upon it, he engaged actively in the sugar, tobacco, and coffee trade. The profits on these articles being very large, he speedily acquired great wealth, and was able to surround his family with every luxury.

While we were residing on the Puerto de Palmas plantation an English governess was employed to conduct my education. I remained under this good lady’s instruction until 1849, learning the elementary branches, and acquiring a fair knowledge of the English language. In that year my father, at my mother’s urgent solicitation, determined to send me to New Orleans for the purpose of completing my education. I accordingly took up my abode with Madame R., my mother’s only surviving sister, who resided in Rue Esplanade, New Orleans. My aunt was rather strict with me, but she took much pains with my education, and for two years I studied under her supervision, mainly devoting myself to acquiring an accurate knowledge of English, so as to be able to read, write, and speak it with fluency. Having become reasonably proficient in such studies as were assigned me by my aunt, I was sent to the school conducted by the Sisters of Charity, to learn the ornamental branches. Here I remained until the romantic clandestine marriage, which did so much towards shaping my future career, took place.

DREAMS OF GLORY.

From my earliest recollections my mind has been filled with aspirations, of the most ardent possible kind, to fill some great sphere. I expended all my pocket money, not in candies and [Page 42] cakes, as most girls are in the habit of doing, but in the purchase of books which related the events of the lives of kings, princes, and soldiers. The story of the siege of Orleans, in particular, I remember, thrilled my young heart, fired my imagination, and sent my blood bounding through my veins with excitement. Joan of Arc became my heroine, and I longed for an opportunity to become such another as she. I built air-castles without number, and in my day-dreams I was fond of imagining myself as the hero of most stupendous adventures. I wished that I was a man, such a man as Columbus or Captain Cook, and could discover new worlds, or explore unknown regions of the earth. I could not even write a social letter to my father to inform him of the state of my health, or my educational progress, without putting in it some romantic project which I had on hand. This propensity of mine evidently annoyed him greatly, for he frequently reprimanded me with much severity, although he took no measures to remove me from influences which were certainly not unattended with danger to a girl of my impulsive and imaginative disposition; so that it is no wonder I was soon engaged in a romantic escapade which gave my family great offense and anxiety.

I was especially haunted with the idea of being a man; and the more I thought upon the subject, the more I was disposed to murmur at Providence for having created me a woman. While residing with my aunt, it was frequently my habit, after all in the house had retired to bed at night, to dress myself in my cousin’s clothes, and to promenade by the hour before the mirror, practicing the gait of a man, and admiring the figure I made in masculine raiment. I wished that I could only change places with my brother Josea. If I could have done so I would never have been a doctor, but would have marked out for myself a military career, and have disported myself in the gay uniform of an officer.

[Page 43] CHAPTER II.

MARRIAGE.

My Betrot...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• About This Edition
• Summary
• Author’s Prefatory Notice
• Editor’s Prefatory Notice
• Contents
• Chapter I. Childhood
• Chapter II. Marriage
• Chapter III. Assuming Male Attire
• Chapter IV. Disguised as a Confederate Officer
• Chapter V. Recruiting
• Chapter VI. A Widow
• Chapter VII. The Battle of Bull Run
• Chapter VIII. After the Battle
• Chapter IX. The Battle of Ball’s Bluff
• Chapter X. First Experiences as a Spy
• Chapter XI. In Washington
• Chapter XII. Acting as Military Conductor
• Chapter XIII. A Merry-Making
• Chapter XIV. The Fall of Fort Donelson
• Chapter XV. Detection and Arrest in New Orleans
• Chapter XVI. An Unfortunate Love Affair
• Chapter XVII. The Battle of Shiloh
• Chapter XVIII. Wounded
• Chapter XIX. The Capture of New Orleans, and Butler’s Administration
• Chapter XX. A Visit to Havana
• Chapter XXI. A Difficulty With Butler.—Escape From New Orleans
• Chapter XXII. Carrying Despatches
• Chapter XXIII. Under Arrest Again
• Chapter XXIV. Running Through the Federal Lines
• Chapter XXV. The Military Secret Service.—Return From a Spying Expedition
• Chapter XXVI. In the Hospital
• Chapter XXVII. A Strange Story of True Love
• Chapter XXVIII. Again a Wife and Again a Widow
• Chapter XXIX. In the Confederate Secret Service
• Chapter XXX. On Duty as a Spy
• Chapter XXXI. Sending Information to the Confederates From Memphis
• Chapter XXXII. Forrest’s Great Raid.—Going North on a Mission of Mercy
• Chapter XXXIII. Secret Service Duty at the North
• Chapter XXXIV. Playing a Double Game
• Chapter XXXV. Visit to Richmond and Canada
• Chapter XXXVI. Arrangements for a Western Trip
• Chapter XXXVII. Johnson’s Island.—Preparations for an Attack on the Federal Rear
• Chapter XXXVIII. In The Indianapolis Arsenal.—Failure of the Projected Raid
• Chapter XXXIX. Blockade-Running
• Chapter XL. An Attack on the Federal Treasury
• Chapter XLI. Counterfeiting and Bogus Bond Speculations
• Chapter XLII. Bounty-Jumping
• Chapter XLIII. The Surrender of Lee
• Chapter XLIV. The Assassination of President Lincoln, and End of the War
• Chapter XLV. A Tour Through Europe
• Chapter XLVI. South American Expedition
• Chapter XLVII. Venezuela
• Chapter XLVIII. Demerara, Trinidad, Barbadoes, and St. Lucia
• Chapter XLIX. St. Thomas and Cuba
• Chapter L. Across the Continent
• Chapter LI. Mining in Utah and Nevada.—The Mormons and Their Country
• Chapter LII. Colorado, New Mexico, and Texas.—Conclusion