Sandusky’s
Legacy
-
by Peter W. Houck
The war was going badly
for beleaguered General Lee
His forces pinned at Petersburg
Before the enemy
Grant, the foe, was stymied
how to beat Lee’s infantry
He must cut off his lifeline
Coming from the Hill City
Who would be the general
To capture this enclave
And burn the city to the ground
None other than vile Black Dave
Dave Hunter was a man
who loved incendiary
To burn and loot along the way
Such was his destiny
Black Dave, the knave,
left Staunton
In June of sixty-four
A race to capture Lynchburg
And seize Marse Robert’s store
He tarried mid-way on his
trip
At Lexington and found
his pleasure in the burning of
VMI to the ground
He torched the libraries
and the homes
of the Shenandoah town
But such a fate would make him late
to little Lynchburg town
The town itself defended
By cripples and old men
Surely the Yanks would capture it
Surely the Yanks would win
But while Dave Hunter burned
his way
Along the Valley trail
The graycoats mobilized their men
It was their holy grail
A little troop of cavalry
Stayed at the bluecoats knees
They burned the bridges and taunted them
Sharpshooting from the trees
McCausland, Early and Breckenridge
Rushed to defend the town
By train and horse they rushed so fast
their troops were wearing down
As the Yanks crossed the
Peaks
down into Liberty
The cavalry kept on stalling them
by fighting valiantly
Bearing down the turnpike
to-ward the Hill City
They settled in the Hutter Home
A place called Sandusky
It was a place to commandeer
and headquarter his staff
Two future presidents would be there
To plan the next day’s wrath
But hark, what’s that
noise?
Hurrah’s and noisy trains
Brass bands playing loudly
To trick the Yanks again
But Hunter knew his duty
was to make a bold attack
Destroy the city and its store
And force the greycoats back
His 18,000 strong
Awoke that fateful day
To spearhead to the Riverfront
and burn James River quay
The soldiers formed on
either side
at the boundary of the town
Duffe on the Federal left
with Sulilivan at the crown
The night before the rebs
had dug
their trenches in the dirt
Tired and spent as they were
and many of them hurt
The VMI cadets were there
To avenge the Institute
Hunter’s torch set fire in them
to retaliate for his rebuke
The attack would come at
noon
as the rebs joined in the fray
Their men arriving by the hour
In time to save the day
Hunter saw and Hunter left
in the darkness of that night
He retreated back into the west
To evade the next day’s fight
So General Lee was rescued
By a man they called Jubal
The eleventh hour’s saving grace
Gave him time to stall
Some good men might argue
That this battle was in vain
Since the Southern cause was hopeless
Fighting on and on again
But no matter what the
end
No matter what the doubt
The pluck of Southern spirit
Was what it was about
Our country thus united
This is our history
But such courage we will not forget
near a place called Sandusky
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