The horsemen of Stuart were going to move in
an eccentric orbit. These are my _memoirs_, reader, not a history of
the war; I describe only what I saw, and am going to ask you now, to
"follow the feather" of Stuart.
Stuart was promptly in the saddle, and when Lee began to move, advanced
north of the Rappahannock, drawing a cordon of cavalry across the roads
above Middleburg, to guard the approaches to the mountain.
The result was that the infantry defiled through the Blue Ridge without
Hooker's knowledge. He knew that something was going on, but there his
information terminated. The troopers of Stuart kept watch over fifteen
miles of front, and through this wall of sabres the Federal eye could
not pierce.
Stuart is regarded by many as only a brave "raider." It was on
occasions like this, however, that he performed his greatest services.
Everywhere he confronted the enemy in stubborn battle; and the work was
hard. It was fighting, fighting, fighting--now, as in 1862, when he
covered Lee's retreat after Sharpsburg. Day and night the cavalry had
no rest. The crack of carbines, the clash of sabres, and the roar of
cannon were incessant. It was a war of giants which Fauquier and
Loudoun saw in those days--and not until the rear of Lee's column had
nearly reached the Potomac, did General Hooker by a desperate effort
succeed in driving Stuart back.
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