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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)
ard were holding the lines of Centreville against McClellan; and when Stuart, that pearl of cavaliers, was in command of the front, which he guarded with his cavalry. In their camps at Centreville, the infantry and artillery of the army quietly enjoyed the bad weather which forbade all military movements; 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! and I think if I had space I could tell some interesting stories of that obstinate petiteguerre of picket fighting-how the gray and blue coats fought for the ripe fruit in an orchard just between them, all a winter's afternoon; how Farley waylaid, with three men, the whole column of General Bayard, and attacked it; and how a brave boy fell one day in a fight of pickets, and was brought back dead, wrapped in the brilliant oil-cloth which his siste
John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War., A glimpse of Colonel Jeb Stuart (search)
the little village of Vienna-General Bonham commanding the detachment of a brigade or so. Here we duly waited for an enemy who did not come; watched his mysterious balloons hovering above the trees, and regularly turned out whenever one picket (gray) fired into another (gray). This was tiresome, and one day in August I mounted my horse and set forward toward Fairfax Court-House, intent on visiting that gay cavalry man, Colonel Jeb Stuart, who had been put in command of the front toward Annandale. A pleasant ride through the summer woods brought me to the picturesque little village; and at a small mansion about a mile east of the town, I came upon the cavalry headquarters. The last time I had seen the gay young Colonel he was stretched upon his red blanket under a great oak by the roadside, holding audience with a group of country people around himhonest folks who came to ascertain by what unheard — of cruelty they were prevented from passing through his pickets to their homes
in command of a surplus gun, of which he knew nothing. The present writer at once repaired to the Colonel's headquarters, which consisted of a red blanket spread under an oak, explained the wishes of the Third, and begged permission to accompany him to Washington. The young Colonel smiled: he was evidently pleased. We should go, he declared-he required artillery, and would have it. The Chief received this reply with extreme satisfaction; put his gun in battery to rake the approach from Annandale; and was just retiring to his blanket, with the luxury of a good conscience, when an order came from General Bonham to repair with the gun, before morning, to Vienna! The General ranked the Colonel: more still, the gun was a part of the General's command. With heavy hearts the Third set out through the darkness for the village to which they were ordered. As the writer is not composing a log-book of his voyages through those early seas, he will only say that at Vienna the Revolutionna