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John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War., Mosby. (search)
urhood to ascertain the 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 he party had to steal off with their captures, if any were made, or cut their way through, and on that black night no uniform was discernible. Mosby approached Germantown by the Little River turnpike; but fearing Wyndham's cavalry, obliqued to the right, and took to the woods skirting the Warrenton road. Centreville was thus, with its garrison, on his right and rear, Germantown on his left, and Fairfax, winged with infantry camps, in his front. It was now raining heavily, and the night was like pitch. The party advanced by bridle-paths through the woods, thus avoiding the pickets of the main avenues of approach, and the incessant patter of the rain dr
John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War., Hardeman Stuart: the young Captain of the signal corps. (search)
d here my sketch might end. I will add, however, a somewhat curious incident which occurred a day or two after the battle. General Stuart followed the enemy on Sunday, and coming up with his rear at the bridge over Cub Run, had a slight artillery engagement, and took many prisoners. The bridge was destroyed and the cavalry turned to the left, and making a circuit came into the Little River turnpike, at the mouth of the Frying Pan road. Proceeding down the turnpike in the direction of Germantown, a squadron captured a company of the enemy's cavalry; and advancing further to a small tavern on the roadside, took prisoners another company who were feeding their horses in fancied security at the place. This cavalry formed a portion of that which had operated in the battles around Groveton; and in possession of one of the men was found Hardeman Stuart's coat, captured with his horse and accoutrements on the mountain. There was no trouble at all in identifying the coat. In the
John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War., I. (search)
d here my sketch might end. I will add, however, a somewhat curious incident which occurred a day or two after the battle. General Stuart followed the enemy on Sunday, and coming up with his rear at the bridge over Cub Run, had a slight artillery engagement, and took many prisoners. The bridge was destroyed and the cavalry turned to the left, and making a circuit came into the Little River turnpike, at the mouth of the Frying Pan road. Proceeding down the turnpike in the direction of Germantown, a squadron captured a company of the enemy's cavalry; and advancing further to a small tavern on the roadside, took prisoners another company who were feeding their horses in fancied security at the place. This cavalry formed a portion of that which had operated in the battles around Groveton; and in possession of one of the men was found Hardeman Stuart's coat, captured with his horse and accoutrements on the mountain. There was no trouble at all in identifying the coat. In the
John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War., chapter 3.33 (search)
il the middle of July, when it came away with unseemly haste. In fact, a column of about fifty-five thousand blue-coats were after it; and the Third detachment, with their gun, had a narrow escape. They were posted, solus, near the village of Germantown, with the trees cut down, four hundred and thirty yards by measurement, in front to afford range for the fire. Here they awaited with cheerfulness the advance of the small Federal force, until a horseman galloped up with, Gentlemen! The enemythe rear. The odds of fifty-five thousand against twenty-five was too great for the Third; and they accordingly limbered to the rear, retiring with more haste than dignity. A friend had seen the huge blue column passing from Flint Hill toward Germantown, and had exclaimed with tragic pathos that the present historian was gone. He was truly gone when the enemy arrived-gone from that redoubt and destined to be hungry and outflanked at Centreville. The Revolutionnaires had but an insignifica