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John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War., Stuart on the outpost: a scene at camp Qui Vive (search)
these questions were speedily answered by General Stuart. The beautiful girl of seventeen, and herce, and song were to while away the hours --so Stuart sent for three members of his military househo admiration. The guitar continues to roar and Stuart's laughter mingles with it; the ventriloquist r, and I think I can recall a few words of General Stuart, too. He had been busily engaged with his at of a poor boy of my command, madam, replied Stuart, who was shot and killed on picket the other dthe elder a look of unmistakable sympathy. Stuart then gave an account of the fight; and his voi boy — the ladies were fairly conquered. When Stuart gallantly accompanied them to the door, and boin death! I have made this little sketch of Stuart at Camp Qui Vive for those who like the undreshe outpost as you followed me, the gay face of Stuart; heard his laughter as he called for the MockiQui Vive, or any other camp, will the laugh of Stuart ring out joyous and free. He is gone-but live[15 more...]
t is to say in August, 1862. It was here that Stuart had one of those narrow escapes which were by e leads his cavalry, and swears in the charge; Stuart will give his cautious counsel to fall back; acted to be speedily joined by General Fitz. Stuart reached the little hamlet on the evening, I be and carried as a rich prize to General Pope. Stuart was, however, well accustomed throughout his ard Verdiersville, only a mile distant, and General Stuart's danger was imminent. The courier had alrly in the gray of morning; but in some manner Stuart's suspicions were excited. To assure himself a shower of balls. The rest took the fence. Stuart, bare-headed, and without his cape, which still, it was General Stuart and his staff! General Stuart! exclaimed the officer; was that General SGeneral Stuart? Yes, and he has escaped! cried the overjoyed Major. A squadron there! shouted the Co our friend, the Major, with him. Such was Stuart's narrow escape at Verdiersville. He succeede[16 more...]
John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War., A glimpse of Colonel Jeb Stuart (search)
discover. The little house in which Colonel Jeb Stuart had taken up his residence, was embowere Brien, did the honours, as second in command, Stuart proposed that we should ride into Fairfax Courbout to visit. We set out for the village, Stuart riding his favourite Skylark, --that good sorrit, and single rein. Mounted upon his sorrel, Stuart was thoroughly the cavalry-man, and he went on had ever known. There was indeed about Colonel Jeb Stuart, as about Major-General Stuart, a smilinMajor-General Stuart, a smiling air of courtesy and gallantry, which made friends for him among the fair sex, even when they were ent of the times I write of comes back now-how Stuart's gay laugh came as he closed the door, and hoopen with astonishment at the spectacle of Colonel Stuart running a race, with a drum before him, sifind an account of the great career of Major-General Stuart-this was Colonel Jeb Stuart on the outpColonel Jeb Stuart on the outpost. And now if the worthy reader is in that idle, unexacting mood so dear to chroniclers, I beg[3 more...]
moonlight sleeping on the roofs of the village; the distant woods, dimly seen on the horizon; the musing figure in the shadow; and the music making the air magical with melody, to die away in the balmy breeze of the summer night. To-day the Federal forces occupy the village, and their bands play Yankee Doodle, or The star-spangled banner. No more does the good old band of the First Virginia play there, telling you to listen to the Mocking bird, and Colonel Wyndham's bugles ring in place of Stuart's! The third occasion when the performance of this band impressed me was in August, 1861, when through the camps at Centreville ran a rumour, blown upon the wind, which rumour taking to itself a voice, said- The Prince is coming! All at once there appeared upon the summit of the hill, west of Centreville, a common hack, which stopped not far from where I was standing, and around this vehicle there gathered in a few moments quite a crowd of idlers and sightseers. Then the door was
ave fought and bled and conquered on so many battle-fields that memory grows weary almost of recalling their achievements. Gathering around Jackson in the old days of 186 , when Patterson confronted Johnston in the Valley of the Shenandoah-when Stuart was a simple Colonel, and Ashby only a Captain — they held in check an enemy twenty times their number, and were moulded by their great commander into that Spartan phalanx which no Federal bayonet could break. They were boys and old men; the heiewall Jackson's way. The sun's bright lances rout the mists Of morning, and, by George, There's Longstreet struggling in the lists, Hemmed in an ugly gorge. Pope and his Yankees whipped before- Bay'net and Grape! hear Stonewall roar, Charge, Stuart! Pay off Ashby's score! That's Stonewall Jackson's way! Lastly, hear how the singer at the camp fire, in sight of the firs of the Blue Ridge and the waters of the Shenandoah, indulges in a wild outburst in honour of his chief: Ah, maid
Bonham to Vienna. All obeyed but the Third, which being seized with a violent desire to go to Alexandria instead of Vienna, gave the rest the slip, joined Colonel Jeb Stuart's column of cavalry and infantry, going toward Fairfax, and never stopped until they reached that village, wherein they had made a number of most charming fr reentrance amid waving handkerchiefs from the friends alluded to, and cheering joyously-but were speedily desired to explain their presence in the column of Colonel Stuart, who thus found himself in command of a surplus gun, of which he knew nothing. The present writer at once repaired to the Colonel's headquarters, which consie Revolutionnaires saw for the first time the enemy's balloons hovering above the woods; turned out more than once, with ardour, when Bonham's pickets fired into Stuart's; and smoked their pipes with an assiduity that was worthy of high commendation. Soon the order came to move; they hung their knapsacks with energy upon the gun
with the First Brigade, as it was then called, to support Stuart's cavalry, and feel the enemy, but not bring on a general nsburg, and camped near the little village of Hainesville-Stuart continuing in front watching the enemy on the river. Tvalry. They are moving to attack my left flank. Where is Stuart? Can you find him? I think so, Colonel. Well, presight of the column I moved with, indicated the presence of Stuart; but this too gradually receded, and soon word was passed m is equal to a victory. I assented with a bow. Colonel Stuart, commanding your cavalry, I do not know, continued theng. The first person I saw near the Big spring was Colonel Stuart, with his cavalry drawn up in line of battle. As soon-driving in your pickets on the way. No wonder, laughed Stuart. Your appearance is enough to frighten a whole brigade. entures, and offered my horse, hat, and pistols in proof. Stuart listened, laughing heartily, and when I had finished, said
John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War., Roslyn and the White house: before and after. (search)
, summoning him again to action. I had no time to dream over the faded glories, the dead splendour of Roslyn; those merry comrades whereof I spoke called to me, as did the friends of the melancholy hero visitor to Locksley Hall, and I was soon en route again for the White House. This was McClellan's great depot of stores on the Pamunkey, which he had abandoned when deciding upon the James river line of retreat-change of base, if you prefer the phrase, reader --and to the White House General Stuart had hurried to prevent if possible the destruction of the stores. He was too late. The officer in charge of the great depot had applied the torch to all, and retreated; and when the cavalry arrived, nothing was visible but a black-hulled gunboat which slunk away down the stream, chased by the shots of the Horse Artillery under Pelham. Behind them they left fire and destruction; a scene in which a species of barbaric and disgusting splendour seemed to culminate. Strange moment for