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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)
t writer-like many others, doubtless-goes back in memory across the gulf of years to 1861, recalling its great scenes 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 desolate, was then a virgin land, untouched by the foot of war. The hosts who were to trample it still lingered upon the banks of the Potolle, 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 fo
John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War., A glimpse of Colonel Jeb Stuart (search)
e the present year, 1866, of which many persons are weary, and return to 1861, of which many never grow tired talking-1861, with its joy, its laughter, its inexperience, and its confiding simplicity, when everybody thought that the big battle on the shores of Bull's Run had terminated the war at one blow. At that time the present writer was attached to Beauregard's or Johnson's Army of the Potomac, and had gone with the advance force of the army, after Manassas, to 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 th
led to inscribe Manassas on their flag. Two days after the battle they were ordered to advance with General Bonham to Vienna. All obeyed but the Third, which being seized with a violent desire to go to Alexandria instead of Vienna, gave the restVienna, gave the rest the slip, joined Colonel Jeb Stuart's column of cavalry and infantry, going toward Fairfax, and never stopped until they reached that village, wherein they had made a number of most charming friends. They made their reentrance amid waving handkerch, 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 s 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 Revolutionnaires saw for the first time the enemy's balloons hovering above the woods; turned out more than once, wi