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Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 2. (ed. Frank Moore) 88 0 Browse Search
John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War. 44 0 Browse Search
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events, Diary from December 17, 1860 - April 30, 1864 (ed. Frank Moore) 19 1 Browse Search
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 2. (ed. Frank Moore) 18 0 Browse Search
Maj. Jed. Hotchkiss, Confederate Military History, a library of Confederate States Military History: Volume 3, Virginia (ed. Clement Anselm Evans) 14 0 Browse Search
Frederick H. Dyer, Compendium of the War of the Rebellion: Regimental Histories 13 3 Browse Search
Horace Greeley, The American Conflict: A History of the Great Rebellion in the United States of America, 1860-65: its Causes, Incidents, and Results: Intended to exhibit especially its moral and political phases with the drift and progress of American opinion respecting human slavery from 1776 to the close of the War for the Union. Volume I. 10 0 Browse Search
Judith White McGuire, Diary of a southern refugee during the war, by a lady of Virginia 10 0 Browse Search
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 5. (ed. Frank Moore) 10 0 Browse Search
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 7. (ed. Frank Moore) 10 0 Browse Search
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ts the enemy fall back from Centreville in great haste and confusion heavy skirmishing with the enemy's Rearguard near Fairfax death of Generals Stevens and Kearny further retreat of the enemy, who enter their fortified lines round Arlington Heing intelligence from point to point. The greatest number of troops seemed to be stationed farther up the roads towards Fairfax, judging from the large luminous bodies of clouds hanging in that direction. Except the snorting of horses, nothing so. He started out early this morning, through the hills on our left; and report says he'll fall upon their flanks near Fairfax or Fall's Church. Lee, at the same time, will push the rear — mind if he don't; and then there'll be another big fight,ght and day, yet no enemy appeared. A full week had elapsed since we fired our last shot at the Federal rear-guard near Fairfax; and, although in the enemy's country, accumulating and transporting into Virginia vast quantities of supplies, no signs
Robert Underwood Johnson, Clarence Clough Buell, Battles and Leaders of the Civil War: The Opening Battles. Volume 1., Virginia scenes in 1861. (search)
w York at camp Cameron, Washington. The only association I have with my old home in Virginia that is not one of unmixed happiness relates to the time immediately succeeding the execution of John Brown at Harper's Ferry. Our homestead was in Fairfax, at a considerable distance from the theater of that tragic episode; and, belonging as we did to a family among the first in the State to manumit slaves,--our grandfather having set free those that came to him by inheritance, and the people who ambulance with a picked troop of cavalrymen had been placed at our service, and the convoy was personally conducted by a pleasing variety of distinguished officers. It was at this time, after a supper at the headquarters of the Maryland line at Fairfax, that the afterward universal war-song, My Maryland! was put afloat upon the tide of army favor. We were sitting outside a tent in the warm starlight of an early autumn night, when music was proposed. At once we struck up Randall's verses to t
rest General Beauregard. His laugh was peculiar; the eyes sparkled, the firm muscles slowly moved, and the white teeth came out with a quite startling effect under the heavy black moustache. When the cavalcade passed on he was still smiling. I pray the reader to pardon this long description of a smile. The strangest of all phenomena is the manner in which trifles cling to the memory. One more personal recollection of Beauregard as I saw him — not on review, neither at Manassas, Fairfax, or elsewhere; a stiff official figure in front of the lines, but in private, and this time on the outpost. It was at Camp Qui-Vive, the headquarters of Stuart, beyond Centreville, and in December, 1861. He came to dine and ride out on the lines to inspect the cavalry pickets; and it is not difficult to recall what manner of man he was-so striking was his appearance. He wore the uniform coat of an officer of the United States Army, dark blue with gilt buttons and a stiff collar. The clo
the cavalry, and Acting Brigadier-General Stoughton, a young officer from West Point, commanded the whole district, with his headquarters in the small village of Fairfax. Mosby formed the design of capturing General Stoughton, Colonel Wyndham, Colonel Johnson, and other officers; and sent scouts to the neighbourhood to ascertain e force there. They brought word that a strong body of infantry and artillery was at Centreville; Colonel Wyndham's brigade of cavalry at Germantown, a mile from Fairfax; and toward the railroad station another brigade of infantry. Fairfax thus appeared to be inclosed within a cordon of all arms, rendering it wholly impossible evh the woods, thus avoiding the pickets of the main avenues of approach, and the incessant patter of the rain drowned the hoof-strokes of the horses. A mile from Fairfax the gleam of tents greeted them in front, and finding the approaches barred in that direction they silently obliqued to the right again, crossed the Warrenton roa
g's regiment, in which he served three months, and on the disbanding of which he became an independent fighter. From this time commences that career of personal adventure and romantic exploits which made him so famous. Shouldering his rifle-now riding, then on foot-he proceeded to the far outposts nearest to the enemy, and was indefatigable in penetrating their lines, harassing detached parties, and gaining information for Generals Bonham and Beauregard. Falling back with the army from Fairfax, he fought-though so sick that he could scarcely stand — in the first battle of Manassas, and then entered permanently upon the life of the scout, speedily attracting to himself the unconcealed admiration of the whole army. To note the outlines even of his performances at that time, would require thrice the space we have at our disposal. He seemed omnipresent on every portion of the lines; and if any daring deed was undertaken-any expedition which was to puzzle, harass, or surprise the en
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)
and personages, and living once more in that epoch full of such varied and passionate emotions. Manassas! Centreville! Fairfax! Vienna!-what memories do those names excite in the hearts of the old soldiers of Beauregard! That country, now so deso of special attraction were the little villages, sleeping like Centreville in the hollow of green hills, or perched like Fairfax on the summit of picturesque uplands. These were old Virginia hamlets, full of recollections; here the feet of Mason anntom. Can this, you murmur, be the laughing land of yesterday, the abode of peace, and happiness, and joy? Can this be Fairfax, where the fields of wheat once rolled their golden waves in the summer wind, and the smiling houses held out arms of weements; but the cavalry, that eye and ear of an army, were still in face of the enemy, and had constant skirmishes below Fairfax, out toward Vienna, and along the front near the little hamlet of Annandale. How well I remember all those scenes!
John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War., A glimpse of Colonel Jeb Stuart (search)
the captive, I offered to make the young Colonel acquainted with a charming friend of my own, whom I had known before his arrival at the place; and as he acquiesced with ready pleasure, we proceeded to a house in the village, where Colonel Stuart was duly presented to Miss — . The officer and the young lady very soon thereafter became close friends, for she was passionately Southern-and a few words will present succinctly the result. In the winter of 1862, Colonel Mosby made a raid into Fairfax, entered the Court-House at night, and captured General Stoughton and his staff-bringing out the prisoners and a number of fine horses safely. This exploit of the partisan greatly enraged the Federal authorities; and Miss —, having been denounced by Union residents as Mosby's private friend and pilot on the occasion — which Colonel Mosby assured me was an entire error-she was arrested, her trunks searched, and the prisoner and her papers conveyed to Washington. Here she was examined on th<
at that time Volunteer A. D. C. to General Stuart of the cavalry, and was travelling from Leesburg to his headquarters, which were on the Warrenton road, between Fairfax and Centreville. I travelled in a light one-horse vehicle, an unusual mode of conveyance for a soldier, but adopted for the convenience it afforded me in tran not surprised to find, as I soon did, that the road over which the enemy must advance to assail him was heavily picketed all along its extent in the direction of Fairfax. If this situation be comprehended by the reader, he will not fail to understand why the Captain scrutinized me closely. I was a stranger to him, had passed red brain! I had missed the road which cut off the angle at Centreville, had taken a wrong one in the dark, and been travelling between the two turnpikes towards Fairfax, until chance brought me out upon the Little River road, not far from Chantilly. I stood for a moment looking at the Captain with stupification and then began
Mosby's raid into Fairfax. I. Among the daring partisans of the war, few have rendered such valuable services to the cause as Captain John S. Mosby. His exploits would furnish material for a volume which would resemble rather a romance . The information brought to him was as follows: On the Little River turnpike at Germantown, a mile or two distant from Fairfax, were three regiments of the enemy's cavalry, commanded by Colonel Wyndham, Acting Brigadier-General, with his headquartenabled them to follow, the partisan and his little band finally struck into the Warrenton road, between Centreville and Fairfax, at a point about midway between the two places. One danger had thus been successfully avoided — a challenge from partiwever. Making a detour to the right, and leaving the enemy's camp far to his left, he struck into the road leading from Fairfax southward to the railroad. This avenue was guarded like the rest, but by a picket only; and the Captain knew thoroug
r the First Virginia Regiment of the Army of Northern Virginia. I heard them afterwards, on two occasions, when the music was charming, and the recollection of the scenes amid which it sounded interests me. The second time I heard the brave musicians was at Fairfax Court-house, in 1861 --or was it in 1761? A century seems to have rolled away since then. In 1761 the present writer must have been a youth, and appears to remember that a fair face was beside him on that moonlit portico at Fairfax, while the band of the First Virginia played the Mocking bird, from the camp across the mills. The scene is clear in memory to-day, as then to the material eye: the 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-span
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