He then leaped upon one of the wheel-horses--these alone being now
left--struck them furiously with his sabre--started at a thundering
gallop down the hill--and pursued by a hail-storm of bullets, from
which, as General Lee says in his report, "he miraculously escaped
unharmed," carried off the gun in safety, and rejoined the cavalry,
greeted by a rolling thunder of cheers.
Such was the manner in which Breathed fought his artillery, and the
narrative is the barest and most simple statement of fact.
Breathed came out of the war a lieutenant-colonel only. Napoleon would
have made him a marshal.
XXXIV.
MY LAST RIDE WITH STUART.
More than one stirring incident marked those days of desperate
fighting, when, barricading all the roads, and charging recklessly,
Stuart opposed, at every step, Grant's advance toward the Po.
But I can not describe those incidents. They must be left to others.
The pen which has paused to record that exploit of Breathed, is drawn
onward as by the hand of Fate toward one of those scenes which stand
out, lugubrious and bloody, from the pages of history.
From the moment when Grant crossed the Rapidan, Stuart had met the
horsemen of Sheridan everywhere in bitter conflict; and the days and
nights had been strewed all over with battles.
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