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Centreville (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 1.6
off, awaiting an advance of his right wing and centre on the Federal rear at Centreville, ordered hours before. The order miscarried, and the advance was not made; 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 inspec of General Stuart; and as she was then upon a visit to the neighbourhood of Centreville, she was invited by the gay cavalier to dine with Beauregard, and afterwardsleft at Manassas, and did he disregard it, depending on his great assault at Centreville? Did he, or did he not, counsel an advance upon Washington after the battle the camps, which caused a great concourse of soldiers to follow him through Centreville and far upon his road, shouting Good-by, General! --God bless you, General! prayer which came in conflict with the good of the public service. When at Centreville, in the fall of 1861, he expected daily an advance of McClellan. One mornin
Bull Run, Va. (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 1.6
f construction, or select new sites for others. Often this solitary horseman of the reserved demeanour and unobtrusive air was seen motionless in the middle of the plains, gazing around him; or in clear relief against the sky, or looking toward Bull Run, he peopled the landscape doubtless with imaginary squadrons in hot conflict. Then another step was taken by the men in making acquaintance with the new commander. The silent horseman would pause as he passed by the camps, and speak to the senard was four miles off, awaiting an advance of his right wing and centre on the Federal rear at Centreville, ordered hours before. The order miscarried, and the advance was not made; at near two o'clock the troops were still within the lines of Bull Run, and on the extreme left nothing but the two thousand six hundred and eleven muskets of Jackson, with a few companies of Bee, was interposed between the Southern troops and destruction. About thirty thousand men under General Hunter were advanc
Missouri (Missouri, United States) (search for this): chapter 1.6
sed under him. A splinter struck my boot, and another cut one of the arteries in the animal's body. The blood gushed out, and after going fifty yards he fell dead. I then mounted a prisoner's horse — there was a map of the country in the saddle pocketand I remember it was a small dingy horse with a white face. Laughter followed the remembrance of the small dingy horse with the white face; and when one of the company observed that General Beauregard had done himself considerable credit in Missouri, meaning to have said General price, the General burst into a laugh which indicated decided enjoyment of the mistake. The incidents here recorded are not to be found in any of the regular histories; and I doubt if any description will be found of the manner in which General Beauregard essayed to assist a young lady bearing a very famous name, to mount her horse. The lady in question was a very charming person, an intimate friend of General Stuart; and as she was then upon a visit to th
Shiloh, Tenn. (Tennessee, United States) (search for this): chapter 1.6
nd moved, and looked when off duty, that I am to present. The first great dramatic scene of the war, the attack on Sumter, the stubborn and victorious combat of Shiloh, the defence of Charleston against Gilmore, the assault upon Butler near Bermuda Hundred, and the mighty struggles at Petersburg, will not enter into this sketch d soldier and the Confederate Executive; and by a portion of the Southern press little praise was accorded him. But he did not need it. The victor of Manassas and Shiloh, the man who clung to Sumter until it was a mass of blackened ruins, will be remembered when partisan rancour and injustice are forgotten. Fame knows her childre His name is cut upon the marble of history in letters too deep to be effaced by the hand of Time, that terrible disintegrator. As long as the words Manassas and Shiloh strike a chord in the bosoms of men, the name Beauregard will also stir the pulses. Those mighty conflicts meet us in the early epoch of the war, grim, bloody, a
Bermuda Hundred (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 1.6
an a military character. As elsewhere in this series of sketches, the writer's aim will be to draw the outline of the man rather than the official. History will busy itself with that official phase; here it is rather the human being, as he lived and moved, and looked when off duty, that I am to present. The first great dramatic scene of the war, the attack on Sumter, the stubborn and victorious combat of Shiloh, the defence of Charleston against Gilmore, the assault upon Butler near Bermuda Hundred, and the mighty struggles at Petersburg, will not enter into this sketch at all. I beg to conduct the reader back to the summer of the year 186 , and to the plains of Manassas, where I first saw Beauregard. My object is to describe the personal traits and peculiarities of the great Creole as he then appeared to the Virginians, among whom he came for the first time. He superseded Bonham in command of the forces at Manassas about the first of June, 1861, and the South Carolinians sai
Tennessee (Tennessee, United States) (search for this): chapter 1.6
er step was taken by the men in making acquaintance with the new commander. The silent horseman would pause as he passed by the camps, and speak to the sentinels-brifly but not stiffly. When they returned to their quarters they told how General Beauregard had thus stopped upon his way, spoken with them familiarly as comrade to comrade, and returned their salute at parting, with his finger to the rim of his cap. Finally, the troops had a good look at him. He reviewed a fine regiment from Tennessee, and all eyes were fixed upon his soldierly figure with admiration-upon the lithe and sinewy form, the brunette face and sparkling black eyes, the erect head, the firm seat in the saddle, and the air of command. When this nervous figure passed at a rapid gallop along the line, the keen eyes peering from beneath the Zouave cap, the raw volunteers felt the presence of a soldier. The hard battle of Manassas followed, and as noon approached on that famous twenty-first of July, the Southe
Virginia (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 1.6
al man, not to make a figure of the fancy; to present an accurate likeness of General Beauregard as he appeared to us of Virginia in those first months of the war, not to drape the individual in historic robes, making him an actor or a myth. He wood the Texan; Beauregard is the marshal of Napoleon-or at least he looked thus in those early days when the soldiers of Virginia, gathering at Manassas, closely scanned the form and features of their new commander. From Virginia the great captaiVirginia the great captain went to the West, where, as the world knows, he won new laurels; and to the end he continued to justify his title of The fortunate. That is only, however, another name for The Able, The Skilful, The Master of events — not by luck, but by brains. rificing patriot-one of the great props of the mighty edifice then tottering beneath the heavy blows it was receiving in Virginia and the West. The self-sacrificing patriot. If any one doubts his claim to that title, it will not be doubted when
Petersburg, Va. (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 1.6
am to present. The first great dramatic scene of the war, the attack on Sumter, the stubborn and victorious combat of Shiloh, the defence of Charleston against Gilmore, the assault upon Butler near Bermuda Hundred, and the mighty struggles at Petersburg, will not enter into this sketch at all. I beg to conduct the reader back to the summer of the year 186 , and to the plains of Manassas, where I first saw Beauregard. My object is to describe the personal traits and peculiarities of the great Centreville? Did he, or did he not, counsel an advance upon Washington after the battle-an advance which events now known show to have been perfectly practicable? Were his movements on Corinth, in the West, judicious? Were his operations at Petersburg in accordance with the views of the government? All these questions remain unanswered; for the dispatches containing the solution of the whole were destroyed or are inaccessible to the world. One fact is unfortunately very well known — that t
Charleston (South Carolina, United States) (search for this): chapter 1.6
when off duty, that I am to present. The first great dramatic scene of the war, the attack on Sumter, the stubborn and victorious combat of Shiloh, the defence of Charleston against Gilmore, the asCharleston against Gilmore, the assault upon Butler near Bermuda Hundred, and the mighty struggles at Petersburg, will not enter into this sketch at all. I beg to conduct the reader back to the summer of the year 186 , and to the plaiing staff officers were seen galloping to and fro; for some days the very presence of the man of Sumter was merely rumour. Then the troops began to take notice of a quiet-looking individual in an oldhe cheeks which are hollowed by the anxieties of command. Such was the appearance of the Man of Sumter, but I have omitted the most striking feature of his face — the eyes. Large, dark, melancholy, as accorded him. But he did not need it. The victor of Manassas and Shiloh, the man who clung to Sumter until it was a mass of blackened ruins, will be remembered when partisan rancour and injustice a
Fairfax, Va. (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 1.6
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
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