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Browsing named entities in a specific section of John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War.. Search the whole document.

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Rodes (search for this): chapter 2.24
It was this spectacle of gray nondescripts which aroused the general enthusiasm. As Stuart advanced, superb and smiling, with his brilliant blue eyes, his ebon plume, his crimson scarf, and his rattling sabre, in front of his men, the town, as I have said, grew wild. His hand was grasped by twenty persons; bright eyes greeted him; beautiful lips saluted him. Believe me, reader, it was something to be a soldier of the C. S. A., when the name of that soldier was Stuart, Jackson, Gordon, or Rodes. Fair hands covered them with flowers, cut off their coat-buttons, and caressed the necks of the horses which they rode. Better still than that, pure hearts offered prayers for them; when they fell, the brightest eyes were wet with tears. Most striking of all scenes of that pageant of rejoicing at Middleburg, was the ovation in front of a school of young girls. The house had poured out, as from a cornucopia, a great crowd of damsels, resembling, in their variegated dresses, a veritab
Stonewall Jackson (search for this): chapter 2.24
was a prisoner. It was this spectacle of gray nondescripts which aroused the general enthusiasm. As Stuart advanced, superb and smiling, with his brilliant blue eyes, his ebon plume, his crimson scarf, and his rattling sabre, in front of his men, the town, as I have said, grew wild. His hand was grasped by twenty persons; bright eyes greeted him; beautiful lips saluted him. Believe me, reader, it was something to be a soldier of the C. S. A., when the name of that soldier was Stuart, Jackson, Gordon, or Rodes. Fair hands covered them with flowers, cut off their coat-buttons, and caressed the necks of the horses which they rode. Better still than that, pure hearts offered prayers for them; when they fell, the brightest eyes were wet with tears. Most striking of all scenes of that pageant of rejoicing at Middleburg, was the ovation in front of a school of young girls. The house had poured out, as from a cornucopia, a great crowd of damsels, resembling, in their variegated
Fitz Lee (search for this): chapter 2.24
its tremulous signature moves me all the same. Ii. It was in the last days of October, 1862. McClellan had followed Lee to Sharpsburg; fought him there; refitted his army; recrossed the Potomac, and was rapidly advancing toward Warrenton, wheys of October the wind had not yet wafted to him the decree of the civilians. He was pressing on in admirable order, and Lee had promptly broken up his camps upon the Opequon to cross the Blue Ridge at Chester's Gap, and interpose himself between ough, firing right and left upon citizens and children; then pushing on, in the splendid autumn sunshine, the brigade-Fitz Lee's, commanded by the gallant Wickham-reached the vicinity of Mountsville. Stuart was riding gaily at the head of his hoh we estimated from the accounts of prisoners — some seventy in number-at about 5000. Stuart had only the brigade of Fitz Lee, about iooo men, but once in motion the Flower of cavaliers always followed the Scriptural precept to forget those thing
Buckingham (search for this): chapter 2.24
f the autumn sunshine yonder on the mountains. I have nothing to reproach myself with — the reader shall judge of that-but this poor rough scrap of paper with its tremulous signature moves me all the same. Ii. It was in the last days of October, 1862. McClellan had followed Lee to Sharpsburg; fought him there; refitted his army; recrossed the Potomac, and was rapidly advancing toward Warrenton, where the fatal fiat from Washington was to meet him, Off with his head! So much for Buckingham. But in these last days of October the wind had not yet wafted to him the decree of the civilians. He was pressing on in admirable order, and Lee had promptly broken up his camps upon the Opequon to cross the Blue Ridge at Chester's Gap, and interpose himself between McClellan and the Rapidan. The infantry moved; the cavalry followed, or rather marched to guard the flank. Stuart crossed the Shenandoah at Castleman's; the column moved through Snicker's Gap; then from the easter
Stone (search for this): chapter 2.24
short, thick-set man, and approaching the fire in front of my tent, introduced him to me as Captain Stone, of the United States Army. Then, drawing me aside, the General said: I wish you would make Captain Stone's time pass as agreeably as possible. We ought to treat him well. In fording a stream near Warrenton, after his capture, he saved the life of Colonel Payne. The Colonel was agreeable generally! I saluted, returned the General's laugh, and made a profound bow to Captain Stone as I offered him the only camp stool which I possessed. Then we began to talk in a manner pcompany with several members of the staff, and everybody began to converse. The comments of Captain Stone upon his capture and his captors, were entirely amicable. He had been taken in charge with ned Stuart, handing him the watch, you will be able to return this to his family. So when Captain Stone left Camp Pelham on the next morning, he took away with him the watch, which the family of t
Gordon (search for this): chapter 2.24
risoner. It was this spectacle of gray nondescripts which aroused the general enthusiasm. As Stuart advanced, superb and smiling, with his brilliant blue eyes, his ebon plume, his crimson scarf, and his rattling sabre, in front of his men, the town, as I have said, grew wild. His hand was grasped by twenty persons; bright eyes greeted him; beautiful lips saluted him. Believe me, reader, it was something to be a soldier of the C. S. A., when the name of that soldier was Stuart, Jackson, Gordon, or Rodes. Fair hands covered them with flowers, cut off their coat-buttons, and caressed the necks of the horses which they rode. Better still than that, pure hearts offered prayers for them; when they fell, the brightest eyes were wet with tears. Most striking of all scenes of that pageant of rejoicing at Middleburg, was the ovation in front of a school of young girls. The house had poured out, as from a cornucopia, a great crowd of damsels, resembling, in their variegated dresses,
Govefor (search for this): chapter 2.24
ill, in March, 1863, he had fallen. The whole South mourned him-dead thus at twenty-four. Stuart wept for him, and named his new quarters Camp Pelham. To-day, in this autumn of 1866, the landscape must be dreary there; the red flag floats no more, and Pelham lives only in memory. But that is enough. There are some human beings who, once encountered, dare you to forget. To terminate my sketch. In those days of 1863, I had long forgotten Mountsville, the little fight there, and Captain Govefor the months of war are long-when one evening at Camp Pelham I saw approach a small party of cavalrymen escorting a Federal prisoner. This was so common an occurrence that it attracted no attention. The loungers simply turned their heads; the men dismounted; the orderly announced the fact to the General, and the Federal prisoner, who was an officer, disappeared behind the flap of General Stuart's tent. Half an hour afterwards the General came out with the prisoner, a short, thick-se
1862 AD (search for this): chapter 2.24
master stores, blankets, oil-cloths, so scarce in the poverty-stricken Confederacy. The present writer was almost destitute on the last day of October--on the first day of November he was rich. His cavalier outfit had been reinforced by an excellent regulation blanket, heavy and double: and a superb india-rubber poncho, on which was inscribed the name Lougee. If the original owner of that fine military cloak survives, I beg to express my hope that he did not suffer, in the winter nights of 1862, for want of it. The Federal camp had vanished, as I have said, as though carried away by the wind. The carbine shots were heard receding still toward Aldie-prisoners began to come back toward the rear. The name of another member of the First Rhode Island I can give. A young attache of General Stuart's staff had captured a stout animal, and while leading him, was suddenly saluted by the words, There is brown's horse! from a Federal prisoner passing. Brown's horse travelled afterwards
1st (search for this): chapter 2.24
y portfolio contained the following words, written, as I have said, in pencil: Mountsville, October 31, 1862. I hereby bind myself, on my word of honour, not to take up arms against the Confederate States, or in any manner give aid and comfort to the Federal cause, until I am regularly exchanged. L.--. Gove, Captain--. I read this paper, and then went back and read it over again. A careless observer would have seen in it only a simple and very hastily written parole. Read at one instant, it would have been forgotten in the next — a veritable leaf of autumn, dry and worthless. For me it contained much more than was written on it. I did not throw it aside. I read it over a third time, and it made a dolorous impression on my heart. For that paper, written by myself four years ago, and signed by a dying man whose hand staggered as it traversed the sheet, leaving the name of the writer almost illegible, his full official rank unrecorded-that paper brought back to my mem
1863 AD (search for this): chapter 2.24
a smile on his lips, and that the hand of night led him to the land of Pleasant Dreams! IV. A few words will end the present sketch. They will refer to the manner in which the watch and chain of Captain Gove were returned. In the year 1863, the cavalry headquarters were at Camp Pelham, near Culpeper Court-house. The selection of that title for his camp by Stuart, will indicate little to the world at large. To those familiar with his peculiarities it will be different. Stuart nmn of 1866, the landscape must be dreary there; the red flag floats no more, and Pelham lives only in memory. But that is enough. There are some human beings who, once encountered, dare you to forget. To terminate my sketch. In those days of 1863, I had long forgotten Mountsville, the little fight there, and Captain Govefor the months of war are long-when one evening at Camp Pelham I saw approach a small party of cavalrymen escorting a Federal prisoner. This was so common an occurrence th
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