An open question has been how our great grandfather Edward Sandford, who was born, raised, and enlisted in Maine, came to serve in the First Cavalry Regiment of the District of Columbia during the Civil War? I had presumed that it had something to do with his arriving late to the party, having been on the other side of the world when the war broke out, and perhaps he had to look around for an available unit that needed him in 1863 when he was able to enlist.

The real reason turns out to be much more complex and interesting, leading us to the story of the life of Lafayette Curry Baker, the man credited with founding the DC First Cavalry. Born in 1826 and raised in upstate New York and Michigan, Baker pursued a life of adventure and intrigue, usually in support of law and order causes of one form or another. At age 30, he spent several years in San Francisco as a “vigilante” (with details left to the imagination). When the war broke out in 1861, he went to Washington DC and offered his services to the cause as an independent agent.

Baker tells his story in his autobiographical The Secret Service in the Civil War, published in 1867. He worked for the Union in many capacities during the war including as a spy, head of the Secret Service, and Colonel in the Union army leading the First DC Cavalry. Baker led the team that tracked down John Wilkes Booth and other conspirators after the Lincoln assassination. He made many enemies during his life, and often tested the line between fervent supporter of Union causes and purveyor of conspiracy theories. He died as General Baker in 1868 at the early age of 42 under circumstances that led some to believe he was poisoned.

It is likely that Edward Sandford (and later son Joe) knew about this book. Edward stayed involved in veterans affairs through his life, would have heard about such a book written by his former commander, and would known of Baker’s early death. It is not clear how many of the following details our grandfather Joe would have known of.

Returning to the story of Baker’s life, in 1861 after a lengthy process to convince the Generals and Washington authorities of his credentials and sincere intentions, he was asked to go to Richmond as a spy. He readily agreed, despite being told that of his five predecessors, two had been killed and the others were likely in prison.

Baker was caught several times on the way to Richmond but proved to be very good at thinking on his feet and smooth-talking his way out of bad situations. On one occasion he bought drinks for his captors en route to their camp and escaped when they eventually fell asleep.

Ultimately, though, he was captured, taken to Richmond, and subjected to repeated interrogations by a cast of characters, eventually including Confederacy president Jefferson Davis. Baker was extremely shrewd in interrogations, relying on a well-developed cover story and usually giving answers that were 95% true, enabling him to be consistent from one interview to the next.

For example, When Jefferson Davis eventually summoned a man from Knoxville who was part of Baker’s cover story (but Baker had never met), he cooly handed the situation…

The next morning brought Mr. Brock to my loft, evidently sent to satisfy himself fully that I was Sam Munson. A delicate and difficult task was before me, and the result to my own mind very doubtful. Brock, however, was talkative, willing to carry on the conversation, and evidently quite sure that he was not mistaken in his man. I knew something of the Munsons, and localities in Knoxville, and, by the aid of imagination, could till any pauses in Brock’s conversation; eight years of absence excusing failures inmemory. Brock asked leading questions, saying, for illustration, “You know so-and-so.” “Oh, yes,” I responded, though I had not the remotest knowledge of the person. Then Brock would refer to something very ludicrous, and I would burst into laughter, as though at the recollection, while Brock, greatly enjoying it, would unconsciously tell the whole story, so that I could put in a fitting remark here and there, which seemed to come naturally from recollection. Brock went away entirely satisfied, and reported to Jeff. Davis. Two days later, a commissioned officer entered the room with a parole, pledging myself not to leave the city of Richmond without orders from the provost-marshal. I signed it, and was released from confinement. With the freedom of the city, I continued my observations.

Lafayette Baker, The Secret Service in the Civil War, 1867

Finally in the confidence of Jefferson Davis, Baker was given papers of introduction and travel permits consistent with his cover story. (Along the way, Baker had collected a wealth of intelligence about troop strengths and positions in Virginia, some directly from Davis.) Baker used these papers to escape back to Washington, although under harrowing conditions.

Baker stopped in Washington just long enough to debrief the Generals on the intelligence he had gathered, then immediately continued north. He used the papers supplied by Jefferson Davis to infiltrate several networks of southern sympathizers in Baltimore and Philadelphia, resulting in multiple arrests.

Throughout the war, Baker repeated the cycle of infiltrating one network of sympathizers after another (there was no shortage of these in and around Maryland), each time building his credentials with the leadership in Washington. Along the way he was named as head of the Secret Service. In this capacity he initially worked for Secretary of State William Seward, and later for War Secretary Edwin Stanton.

Baker was given more and more support as his missions increased in size and complexity. One mission to infiltrate offices of the Postal Service in southern Maryland (which were engaged in near-free exchange of correspondence with their counterparts in Virginia) required a supporting company of soldiers because of the dangers involved.

So is was a natural part if this progression that Baker was commissioned a Colonel in the Union army, and the First Cavalry Regiment of the District of Columbia was created, essentially as Baker’s personal supporting army. Initially a force of 4 hundred men, an additional 8 companies were soon added, bringing the strength of the regiment to 1,200 men.

And it so happened that most of these 8 companies were provided by Maine’s Governor Samuel Coney. Maine, with its fervent anti-slavery positions and forces far removed from potential influence of southern sympathizers, was a logical choice as a source for filling the coveted positions in the new First DC Cavalry.

The First Cavalry of DC was formed in June 1863, the same month that Edward Sandford enlisted in the Maine militia. We can now interleave the narrative of Baker with that of our grandfather, Joe Sandford in his 1966 remarks to the First Baptist Church of Corona, California.

[Edward’s] Uncle Thomas Sandford owned a fleet of Clipper Ships that sailed the Seven Seas. The opening of the Civil War in the United States found father in Chinese waters on one of these ships serving as First Officer. He was anxious to share a part in this War and became an officer on one of our Naval ships serving for one year.

Returning to Maine he became Captain of the First Maine Cavalry.  Soon his Regiment was transferred to Washington, D. C. and became the First District of Columbia Cavalry.

Joe Sandford, 1966 remarks

On the 16th of February [1864], Company F was mounted, and remained at Camp Baker, engaged in daily drilling until the 7th of April. At that date it left Washington for Norfolk, and the next day joined a squadron of the old battalion on picket at Great Bridge.

Lafayette Baker, The Secret Service in the Civil War, 1867

(Recall that we have seen an image of the orders given to Edward on April 6, to report with his command to the 6th Street [SW] docks the following day for transport to Norfolk. Note that in the late 1863 time frame the command and operations of the First DC Cavalry were shifted from Washington toward the war front in Virginia. I think there were several reasons for this. First, as the war moved southward, away from Washington, the security of the Capital became less of a concern while the need to support the southward progress of the Union army became more of a concern. Also, I can’t help but think that some in authority in Washington realized that the First DC Cavalry perhaps needed a little more structure and adult supervision than perhaps the maverick Colonel Baker was able to provide on his own.)

He saw much action to the South of the Capitol [sic].  We have many letters that he wrote to his wife from the battle fields and they are very personal, historic and valuable.

His regiment was one of the first to use the repeating rifle.  His men could fire sixteen times without reloading and his writings state that, ‘The Rebs could not understand how this was possible’.

Joe Sandford, 1966 remarks [I’m still wondering where these letters wound up]

This regiment was distinguished by the superiority of the carbines with which it was armed. It was the only regiment in the army of the Potomac armed with “Henry’s Repeating Rifle.” The peculiarity of this gun is, that it will fire sixteen shots without reloading. It is cocked by the same movement of the guard that opens and closes the breech—the exploded cartridge being withdrawn and a fresh one supplied at the same time and by the same movements. The copper cartridges are placed in a tube, extending the entire length of the barrel, on the underside. From this they are fed into the gun by the operation of the lever guard; meantime a spiral spring forces down the cartridges as fast as they are discharged. The whole device is of the simplest nature. The work is strong, and the whole thing is so nearly perfect, that it is difficult to conceive of any improvement. The subsequent history of this regiment proves it to be a terribly effective weapon. Fifteen shots can be given with it in ten seconds. Thus, a regiment of one thousand men would fire fifteen thousand shots in ten seconds. After having having witnessed the effectiveness of this weapon, one is not surprised at the remark, said to have been made by the guerrilla chief, Mosby, after an encounter with some of our men, that “he did not care for the common gun, or for Spencer s seven-shooter, but as for these guns, that they could wind up on Sunday and shoot all the week, it was useless to fight against them.”

Lafayette Baker, The Secret Service in the Civil War, 1867

Baker’s memoir devotes 20 pages to the activities of the First DC Cavalry in April and June, 1864 leading up to the Wilson Raids, which I will not attempt to summarize here.

During the Spring of 1864 his Regiment was active on the Wilson Raids into the South.  On one of these two week Raids they were successful in getting through the Reb Lines and rode day and night as far South as Weldon, N. C. destroying telegraph lines, depots, bridges and rail equipment.

They found ample food in the South and he wrote his wife that she must not believe the news reports that the South was short of such.

Joe Sandford, 1966 remarks

At this point, Baker’s book provides us with a fascinating insight. From Joe’s description we understand that Edward Sandford and his men were operating about as far south as any unit in the Union army at the time, well beyond the official front lines. As such, there were encounters with enslaved people which our great grandfather was likely a part of.

An illustration of the interesting peculiarity of the race came under my observation during one of the well-known raids by General Kurtz, from Suffolk, on the Weldon railroad. The First District Cavalry, a regiment I had raised, and of which further mention will be made, was divided into front and rear guard. The advance of the forces was the first appearance of Union troops among these patient “servants” of the region. To be informed that we were “Yankees,” was enough, without the slightest hint of our plans or destination, to stir the most stupid toiler like a trumpet-call. The hoe was dropped, the plow and cart abandoned. Even the women, moved by the same wild impulse, deserted their cabins, and all together rushed to the rear of the army, and stepped to the music of the march for days, and sometimes for weeks. They dreaded more than death the return to their owners, or recapture by them. When it became necessary to leave several hundred at Reams’s Station, in our hurried movement backward, they lingered about instead of going forward, and their frantic agony was heart-rending.

Lafayette Baker, The Secret Service in the Civil War, 1867

This is also Baker’s first mention of the fateful Reams’ Station encounter and retreat, which would change the life of Edward Sandford. At this point, Baker’s account gives us far more detail than we have known previously…

Returning to their base camp in the North he was shot through the groin and felled from his mount.  This at Reams Station, Va.

Joe Sandford, 1966 remarks

Wilson’s object was to burn the bridge, and Lieutenant Colonel Conger, of the First District of Columbia Cavalry, was detailed to do it. The regiment was composed of new recruits, with little experience, and had received less instruction than any other regiment in the command. The undertaking was a perilous one. Its wisdom the reader will be likely to question. And yet, when the final order was given to charge across the level ground, in the face of the rebel batteries, the gallant First District of Columbia moved forward in splendid style, dismounted (except the intrepid Conger, who, being lame from previous wounds, was compelled to ride). The advance squadron, commanded by Captain Benson, had not advanced far, when, from the line of the enemy’s works in front, a murderous storm of grape and canister was hurled into their ranks with terrible effect. Officers and men went down in large numbers. Still, without the least protection, in the face of that withering fire, and at too great a distance from the enemy to effect much by their own, those brave men pressed on till near the bridge. Efforts were made to burn it, but they were unsuccessful. The regiment did but little actual fighting here, for the simple reason that they could not get at the enemy, but the cannonading was’ rapid and heavy. The hills presented a line of fire and smoke, and the earth trembled with the terrific concussions. Shells screamed across the horizon, bursting into deadly iron hail—the grim forms of smoke-masked men, the gleam of burnished guns in the wheat field, where the men were not engaged, and the flashing of sabers where they were, with horsemen in the distance, sweeping to and fro, formed a scene of exciting grandeur such as few of our men had ever witnessed before.

When at length it was discovered that the object could not be accomplished but at too great a sacrifice of life, the advance was ordered back, and, as nothing else was to be done in this direction, the return march was commenced. The enemy followed all day, but made no attack. After a march of thirty-two miles directly east, through Greensborough, the column halted for the night near Oak Grove.

A march of thirty-eight miles brought them to the Iron Bridge across Stony Creek, at about ten o’clock on the morning of the 28th. Here a heavy force of cavalry and artillery was found in position to dispute the crossing. The cavalry consisted of Hampton’s command, together with that of Fitz Hugh Lee.

A severe engagement took place, in which this regiment lost about eighty men in killed, wounded, and missing. The result was indecisive. The enemy was pressed back, while our column turned to the left and crossed the creek at a point above.

General Kautz’s division had the advance, this regiment moving at the head of the column, and the Eleventh Pennsylvania next.

On approaching Reams’s Station, which had been supposed to be in our possession, General Kautz found himself confronted by the enemy, both infantry and artillery. Mahone’s whole division, and one brigade from another division, had been sent out to intercept Wilson’s command, which was now outnumbered two to one. The enemy was drawn up in strong line of battle, extending from the Notaway River, on our right, to a point far out on our left. This regiment and the Eleventh Pennsylvania charged directly through. General Wilson, however, instead of following on, fell back, abandoned his artillery, wagons, and ambulances, and, by making a wide detour, avoided the enemy, and abandoned these two regiments to their fate.

Kautz had marched but a short distance, when he found himself in a triangle, two sides of which, including his rear and left front, were held by the enemy in overwhelming numbers. Extending along his right front was the railroad, running through a cut from ten to twelve feet in depth.

Beyond it, and running nearly parallel with it, was a muddy stream of considerable depth, and beyond that, an extensive swamp, supposed to be impassable.

The enemy now thought himself sure of his prey. Under the circumstances, almost any other man would have surrendered. Not so the indomitable Kautz.

It was a wild and exciting scene to see those mounted men slide down that steep embankment to the railroad track, and scramble up the opposite bank, and dash down the next declivity into the stream, and wallow through mire and water, the horses in some instances rolling over, and the men going under, amid the thunder of artillery, and with solid shot plunging, and shells exploding, and grape and canister raining, and musket balls whistling around them, till they reached the opposite shore, and disappeared in the swamp.

Following their indefatigable commander, they pressed their way through, and reached their old camp at Jones’s Landing, the next day.

Lieutenant-Colonel Conger, Major Curtis, and Captain Sanford were severely wounded. Captains Benson and Chase, who had been wounded at Roanoke Bridge, fell into the enemy’s hands as prisoners, when the ambulances were abandoned at Stony Creek.

Lafayette Baker, The Secret Service in the Civil War, 1867

(In predictable fashion, Baker continues the family tradition of always misspelling the Sandford family name in documentation of important life events.)

At this point, the Baker and Sandford family stories diverge. Edward, following his wild escape on a commandeered horse, is transported back for recovery through City Point Virginia, New York, and Maine.

Upon regaining consciousness he crawled through the field, was able to join his Regiment.  An order was received that they flee leaving all sick and wounded on the field.  He ordered a horse and was assisted thereon and rode ‘Ten miles through swamps, jumping fences and reached field hospital.’

In letter written by the Christian Commissioner he states that ‘Dr. Jamison has been very kind to me doing all that he can for me’.

Leaving the field hospital he was transported to City Point and then via ship to hospital in New York City.

Joe Sandford, 1966 remarks

Baker, who’s memoir continues for another 200 pages, continues to fight for the Union through the end of the war.

It may be that Edward’s role in the First DC Cavalry, the exploits of which President Lincoln was well-briefed on, played a role in the President’s later appointment of Sandford as Consul to China.

General Baker was as proud of his DC Cavalry as Edward Sandford was of the role he played in it.

The regiment was a splendid body of troops, and achieved all that was anticipated from it;

Much of the service performed for the country will never be written. The detachments of men moving stealthily over the lines of encampment and battle; guarding me or my subordinates in perilous adventures; and other quiet, unheralded, and unreported duties, will have no record but the pages of memory, and, with the death of the actors in the varied scenes of such a life, be forgotten.

Lafayette Baker, The Secret Service in the Civil War, 1867