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John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War., How S-overheard his death-warrant. (search)
his detachment. This was the signal for S— to descend, which he did at once. A brief reconnoissance through the window revealed the dark figures posted at stated intervals around the housebut these only made him laugh. He did not fear them, and had only one regret — the impossibility of getting his horse off. The attempt would reveal his presence, involve the family in danger, and might fail. He accordingly resolved to retire on foot. This was at once and successfully accomplished. S- bade his kind friends farewell, stole out of the back door, glided along the garden fence, beneath the shadow of the trees, and gained the wood near by without being challenged. In an hour he was safe from all pursuit, at a friend's, on one of the spurs of the Blue Ridge. Soon afterwards he was relating this narrative to the present writer, near Orange. I was interested in it, and thought that the reader might share this interest. He knows, at least, how S- overheard his death-warra
John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War., How S-- captured a Federal Colonel's hat (search)
How S-- captured a Federal Colonel's hat Another adventure of S— , the scout, will be here narrated. He related it to me in my tent near Orange more than a year ago; but the incidents come back, as do many things in memoryliving, breathing, real, as it were, in the sunshine of to-day; not as mere shapes and recollections of the past. In the summer of the good year 1863, S— went with two or three companions on a little scout toward Warrenton. Do you know the pretty town of Warrenton, good reader? 'Tis a delightful little place, full of elegant mansions, charming people, and situated in a lovely country. Nowhere are the eyes of youthful maidens bluer-au revoir bien-t6t, sweet stars of my memory!--nowhere are truer hearts, or more open hands. Here Farley, the famous partisan-one of the friends I loved-used to scout at will, and when chased by his foes, rein up his horse on the suburbs, and humorously fire in their faces as they darted in pursuit of him; laughing quietly