lywood, in so quiet, secluded a spot that I felt indeed that no sound could awake him to glory again.
A simple wooden slab marks the spot, upon which is inscribed--General Stuart, wounded May 11th, 1864; died May 12th, 1864.
And there rests poor J. E. B. Stuart,
It was in 1852 I first knew him, the date of my entry as a cadet in the United States Military Academy--twenty-three years ago. Having entered West Point two years before, he was a second-class-man at the time — a classmate of Custis Lee's, Pegram's and Pender's. Beauty Stuart he was then universally called, for however manly and soldierly in appearance he afterwards grew, in those days his comrades bestowed that appellation upon him to express their idea of his personal comeliness in inverse ratio to the term employed.
In that year, I recollect, he was orderly sergeant of his company, and in his first-class year its cadet captain.
I recall his distinguishing characteristics, which were a strict attention to his mili