[270] designated to lead Jackson's troops in the final charge. The soul of this brilliant cavalry commander was as full of sentiment as it was of the spirit of self-sacrifice. He was as musical as he was brave. He sang as he fought. Placing himself at the head of Jackson's advancing lines and shouting to them “Forward,” he at once led off in that song, “Won't you come out of the Wilderness?” He changed the words to suit the occasion. Through the dense woodland, blending in strange harmony with the rattle of rifles, could be distinctly heard that song and words, “Now, Joe Hooker, won't you come out of the Wilderness?”
But something more than West Point and frontier service was needed to produce a Buford. He was “no sapling chancesown by the fountain.” He had had years of training and experience in his profession, and although they were precious and indispensable, they could not have produced the same results which were realized in him, had it not been for the honorable deeds of his ancestors and the hereditary traits developed and transmitted by them. Such men as Buford are not the fruit of chance. Springing, as he did, from a sturdy Anglo-Norman family long settled in the “debatable land” on the borders of England and Scotland, he came by the virtues of the strong hand through inheritance. His kinsmen, as far back as they can be traced, were stout soldiers, rough fighters, and hard riders, accustomed to lives of vicissitude, and holding what they had under the good old rule, the simple plan, “Those to take who have the power, and those to keep who can.” Men of his name were the counsellors and companions of kings, and gained renown in the War of the Roses, and in the struggle for
