there, these living flowers, to greet their favourite, when he appeared; and no sooner did his column come in sight in the suburbs than a wind seemed to agitate the roses, tulips, and carna tions; a murmur rose-" He is coming!"

Then at sight of the floating plume the tempest of welcome culminated. Beautiful eyes flashed, fair cheeks flushed, red lips were wreathed with smiles; on every side were heard from the young maidens, fairly dancing for joy, exclamations of rapturous delight.

As he came opposite the spot Stuart halted, and taking his hat off, saluted profoundly. But that was not enough. They had not assembled there to receive a mere bow.

In an instant his hand was seized; he was submerged in the wave of flowers; for the cavalier who had often said to me, once, 66 I never mean to surrender," was fairly captured. Nor did he seem to regret it. He returned good for evil, and appeared to be actuated by the precept which commands us to love our enemies. Those enemies pressed around him; overwhelmed him with their thanks; grasped his hands, and allowed the brave soldier's lip, as he bent from the saddle, to touch the fresh roses of their cheeks.

Do you blame them? I do not. Do you say that they were too "forward?" Believe me, your judgment is harsh. This soldier was a pure-hearted Christian gentleman, who had fought for those children, and meant to die for them soon. Was it wrong to greet him thus, as he passed, amid the storm? and does any young lady, who kissed him, regret it? Do not be afraid, mademoiselle, should you read this page. The lip which touched your cheek that day never trembled when its owner was fighting, or going to fall, for you. That hand which you pressed was a brave and honest Virginian's. That heart which your greeting made beat faster and more proudly, was one which never shrank before the sternest tests of manhood; for it beat in the breast of the greatest and noblest of our Southern cavaliers!

When Stuart lay down in his bivouac that night, wrapping his red blanket around him by the glimmering camp fire, I

think he must have fallen asleep with a smile on his lips, and that the hand of night led him to the land of Pleasant Dreams!

IV.

A few words will end the present sketch. the manner in which the watch and chain of returned.

They will refer to Captain Gove were

In the year 1863, the cavalry headquarters were at " Camp Pelham," near Culpeper Court-house.

The selection of that title for his camp by Stuart, will indicate little to the world at large. To those familiar with his peculiarities it will be different. Stuart named his various headquarters after some friend recently dead. "Camp Pelham" indicated that this young immortal had finished his career.

Pelham, in fact, was dead. At Manassas, Williamsburg, Cold Harbour, Groveton, Sharpsburg, Fredericksburg, and a hundred other battles, he had opposed his breast to the storm, but no bul let had ever struck him. In the hard and bitter struggle of Kelly's Ford, with Averill, in March, 1863, he had fallen. The whole South mourned him-dead thus at twenty-four. Stuart wept for him, and named his new quarters "Camp Pelham."

To-day, in this autumn of 1866, the landscape must be dreary there; the red flag floats no more, and Pelham lives only in memory. But that is enough. There are some human beings who, once encountered, "dare you to forget."

To terminate my sketch. In those days of 1863, I had long forgotten Mountsville, the little fight there, and Captain Govefor the months of war are long-when one evening at "Camp Pelham" I saw approach a small party of cavalrymen escorting a Federal prisoner. This was so common an occurrence that it attracted no attention. The loungers simply turned their heads; the men dismounted; the orderly announced the fact to the General, and the Federal prisoner, who was an officer, disap peared behind the flap of General Stuart's tent.

Half an hour afterwards the General came out with the

prisoner, a short, thick-set man, and approaching the fire in front of my tent, introduced him to me as Captain Stone, of the United States Army. Then, drawing me aside, the General said:

"I wish you would make Captain Stone's time pass as agreeably as possible. We ought to treat him well. In fording a stream near Warrenton, after his capture, he saved the life of Colonel Payne. The Colonel was wearing a heavy overcoat with a long cape, when his horse stumbled in the water, threw him, and as the heavy cape confined his arms, he would have been drowned but for the prisoner, who jumped into the water and saved him. You see we ought to treat him like a friend, rather than as a prisoner," added the General smiling, “and I wish you would give him a seat and make yourself agreeable generally!"

I saluted, returned the General's laugh, and made a profound bow to Captain Stone as I offered him the only camp stool which I possessed. Then we began to talk in a manner perfectly friendly.

This conversation lasted for half an hour. Then General Stuart, who had finished his evening's task at his desk, approached, in company with several members of the staff, and everybody began to converse. The comments of Captain Stone upon his capture and his captors, were entirely amicable. He had been "taken in charge" with perfect politeness; and his personal effects had been religiously respected. In proof of this statement he drew out his watch, and commended it as a timepiece of most admirable performance.

"It is not better than mine, I think, Captain," said a member of the staff, with a smile; and he drew from his breast pocket a large silver watch of the most approved pattern.

"That seems to be an excellent timepiece," was the response of the Federal prisoner. "Where did you purchase it?"

"It was captured; or rather I took it from a Federal officer who was dying, to preserve it intending if I ever had an oppor tunity to return it to some member of his family."

Stuart took the watch and looked at it.

"I remember this watch," he said; "it belonged to Captain Gove, who was killed in the skirmish at Mountsville."

"Captain Gove, of the First Rhode Island, was it, General?" asked the prisoner.

"The same, Captain."

"I know his people very well."

"Then," returned Stuart, handing him the watch, "you will be able to return this to his family."

So when Captain Stone left Camp Pelham on the next morning, he took away with him the watch, which the family of the unfortunate Captain Gove no doubt preserve as a memorial of him.

This little incident has occupied an amount of space disproportioned, it may be thought, to its importance. But memory will have no master. The sight of the paper which that dying man at Mountsville affixed his name to, aroused all these recollections. Unwritten, they haunted the writer's mind; recorded, they are banished. The past takes them. There they sleep again, with a thousand others, gay or sorrowful, brilliant or lugubrious, for of this changeful warp and woof is war.

XI.

JACKSON'S DEATH-WOUND.

I.

THERE is an event of the late war, the details of which are known only to a few persons; and yet it is no exaggeration to say that many thousands would feel an interest in the particu lars. I mean the death of Jackson. The minute circumstances attending it have never been published, and they are here recorded as matter of historical as well as personal interest.

A few words will describe the situation of affairs when this tragic scene took place. The spring of 1862 saw a large Federal army assembled on the north bank of the Rappahannock, and on the first of May, General Hooker, its commander, had crossed, and firmly established himself at Chancellorsville. General Lee's forces were opposite Fredericksburg chiefly, a small body of infantry only watching the upper fords. This latter was compelled to fall back before General Hooker's army of about one hundred and fifty thousand men, and Lee hastened by forced marches from Fredericksburg toward Chancellorsville, with a force of about thirty thousand men-Longstreet being absent at Suffolk-to check the further advance of the enemy. This was on May 1st, and the Confederate advance force under Jackson, on the same evening, attacked General Hooker's intrenchments facing toward Fredericksburg. They were found impregnable, the dense thickets having been converted into abattis, and every avenue of approach defended with artillery. General Lee therefore directed the assault to cease, and consulted with his corps