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ill follow me he shall see what took place on this rapid ride, witness some incidents of this first and king of raids. The record will be that of an eye-witness, and the personal prominence of the writer must be excused as inseparable from the narrative. I need not dwell upon the situation in June, 1862. All the world knows that, at that time, McClellan had advanced with his magnificent army of 156,000 men, to the banks of the Chickahominy, and pushing across, had fought on the last day of May the bloody but indecisive battle of the Seven Pines. On the right it was a Confederate, on the left a Federal success; and General McClellan drew back, marshalled his great lines, darkening both the northern and southern banks of the Chickahominy, and prepared for a more decisive blow at the Confederate capital, whose spires were in sight. Before him, however, lay the Southern army, commanded now by Lee, who had succeeded Johnston, wounded in the fight of Seven pines. The moment was favou
as far as Old Church, if practicable, and then be guided by circumstances. Such were the orders with which Stuart set out about moonrise on the night, I think, of June i z, upon this dangerous expedition. As the young cavalier mounted his horse on that moonlight night he was a gallant figure to look at. The gray coat buttonedefore daylight, advanced with his column straight upon Hanover Court-House. Have you ever visited this picturesque spot, reader? We looked upon it on that day of June-upon its old brick court-house, where Patrick Henry made his famous speech against the parsons, its ancient tavern, its modest roofs, the whole surrounded by the f built a hasty bridge for us lower down. We were over, however, and reaching Mr. C --‘s, the General and his staff lay down on a carpet spread on the grass in the June sunshine, and went to sleep. This was Sunday. I had not slept since Friday night, except by snatches in the saddle, and in going on to Richmond afterwards fell a
Stuart's ride around McClellan in June, 1862. I. Who that went with Stuart on his famous Ride around McClellan in the summer of 1862, just before the bloody battles of the Chickahominy, will ever forget the fun, the frolic, the romance-and the peril too — of that fine journey? Thinking of the gay ride now, when a century seems to have swept between that epoch and the present, I recall every particular, live over every emotion. Once more I hear the ringing laugh of Stuart, and see the moving slowly in front of the gunboats, which fired upon them; but no harm was done. Richmond was reached; and amid an ovation from delighted friends we all went to sleep. Such was Stuart's ride around McClellan's army in those summer days of 1862. The men who went with him look back to it as the most romantic and adventurous incident of the war. It was not indeed so much a military expedition as a raid of romance — a scout of Stuart's with fifteen hundred horsemen! It was the conception
eatures, the brilliant eyes, and the huge moustache, which curled with laughter at the slightest provocation-these made Stuart the perfect picture of a gay cavalier, and the spirited horse he rode seemed to feel that he carried one whose motto was to do or die. I chanced to be his sole companion as he galloped over the broad field near his headquarters, and the glance of the blue eyes of Stuart at that moment was as brilliant as the lightning itself. Catching up with his column of about 1500 horsemen, and two pieces of horse-artillery under Colonels William H. F. Lee, Fitz Lee, and Will. T. Martin, of Mississippi-cavalier as brave as ever drew sabre-Stuart pushed on northward as if going to join Jackson, and reaching the vicinity of Taylorsville, near Hanover Junction, went that night into bivouac. He embraced the opportunity, after midnight, of riding with Colonel W. H. F. Lee to Hickory Hill, the residence of Colonel Williams Wickham-afterward General Wickham--who had been rec
June, 1862 AD (search for this): chapter 2.15
Stuart's ride around McClellan in June, 1862. I. Who that went with Stuart on his famous Ride around McClellan in the summer of 1862, just before the bloody battles of the Chickahominy, will ever forget the fun, the frolic, the romance-and the peril too — of that fine journey? Thinking of the gay ride now, when a century seems to have swept between that epoch and the present, I recall every particular, live over every emotion. Once more I hear the ringing laugh of Stuart, and see the rapid ride, witness some incidents of this first and king of raids. The record will be that of an eye-witness, and the personal prominence of the writer must be excused as inseparable from the narrative. I need not dwell upon the situation in June, 1862. All the world knows that, at that time, McClellan had advanced with his magnificent army of 156,000 men, to the banks of the Chickahominy, and pushing across, had fought on the last day of May the bloody but indecisive battle of the Seven Pin
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