The Twelfth Virginia Cavalry followed them, and they were cut down or
captured.
As the column moved on, Stuart galloped along the line toward the
front.
He had just faced death with these men, and at sight of him they raised
a cheer.
"Hurrah for old Jeb!" rose in a shout from the column.
Stuart turned: his face glowed: rising in his stirrups, he took off his
hat and exclaimed:---
"Bully for the old Twelfth!"
The words were unclassic, it may be, reader, but they raised a storm.
"I felt like I could die for old Jeb after that," one of the men said
to me.
Stuart disappeared, followed by tumultuous cheers, and his column
continued to advance upon Warrenton ahead of the army. He had ridden
on for a quarter of an hour, when he turned to me, and said:--
"I am getting uneasy about things at Culpeper. I wish you would ride
back to Rosser, who is there with two hundred men, and tell him to call
on Young, if he is pushed." I turned my horse.
"You know where Young is?"
"On the Sperryville road."
"Exactly--Rosser can count on him. I am going on toward Warrenton."
And the general and myself parted, riding in opposite directions.
I returned toward Hazel River; passed that stream, and the long rows of
army wagons; and as the sun was sinking, drew near Culpeper.
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