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 gone. He had risen at 1 o'clock A. M., and with a single courier, had started on a ride of fifty-one miles to Richmond to hold a conference with General Lee. He impressed several horses on the route — the owners growling loudly at being compelled to give up their horses to “that grum colonel, who looked as if he would not hesitate to shoot if necessary.” Mr. Matthew Hope, who resided in the lower end of Louisa county, gave me a very amusing account of his interview with him. Galloping up to his house about 4 o'clock in the morning he aroused Mr. Hope and asked if he had a good, fleet horse. “Yes, sir!” was the reply, “I have the best horse in this region.” “Well, then, bring him out quick, for I want him! I am a Confederate officer, traveling on important business. My own horse is broken down and I must have yours.” “You shall do no such thing,” was the reply. “I do not keep horses for any straggler that may chance to come along.” “ But my business is urgent, and if you do not let me have the horse I shall be compelled to take him.” “ But what guarantee do you offer me that it is all right?” persisted Mr. Hope. “ None but my word, sir; but I have no time to argue the case, and you will please saddle the horse at once.” “I shall certainly do no such a thing,” was the irate reply “I do not saddle horses for myself, and I shall not do it for you.” But Jackson cut the matter short by dismounting, and with the assistance of his courier, saddled the fresh horse and galloped off with the promise that he would return him in a few days. Mr. Hope says that when the horse came back “with General Jackson's compliments,” his chagrin knew no bounds, as he would have esteemed it a privilege to let him have every horse he had, and to have saddled them for him, too. Jackson rode into Richmond so quietly that no one knew of his presence; had his interview with General Lee; received all of the instructions necessary to enable him to carry out his part of the great battle which was to culminate in McClellan's “change of base,” and galloped back to the head of his column before it was suspected that he had been absent at all. And now we hurried forward to bivouac near Ashland, in the “slashes of Hanover,” and to march the next day to our position on the flank, while A. P. Hill led his splendid “Light division” across the
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