I had been sent by General Stuart with an order to General Hampton, who
commanded the cavalry on Hill's right.
Hampton was sitting his horse in a field extending, at this point,
between us and the enemy; and, if it were necessary, I would draw his
outline. It is not necessary, however; every one is familiar with the
figure of this great and faithful soldier, in his old gray coat, plain
arms and equipments, on his large and powerful war-horse,--man and
horse ready for battle. In the war I saw many great figures,--Hampton's
was one of the noblest.
Having delivered my message to General Hampton, who received it with
his air of grave, yet cordial courtesy, I turned to shake hands with
Captain Church--a thorough-bred young officer, as brave as steel, and
one of my best friends--when an exclamation from the staff attracted my
attention, and looking round, I saw the cause.
At the opposite extremity of the extensive field, a solitary horseman
was seen darting out of the woods occupied by the Federal infantry, and
this man was obviously a deserter, making his way into our lines.
At a sign from General Hampton, Captain Church went to meet him, and as
my horse was fresh, I accompanied my friend in his ride.
The deserter came on at full speed to meet us, and for a moment, his
horse skimmed the dusky expanse like a black-winged bird.
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