The result was that the infantry defiled through the Blue Ridge without Hooker’s knowledge. He knew that something was going on, but there his information terminated. The troopers of Stuart kept watch over fifteen miles of front, and through this wall of sabres the Federal eye could not pierce.
Stuart is regarded by many as only a brave “raider.” It was on occasions like this, however, that he performed his greatest services. Everywhere he confronted the enemy in stubborn battle; and the work was hard. It was fighting, fighting, fighting—now, as in 1862, when he covered Lee’s retreat after Sharpsburg. Day and night the cavalry had no rest. The crack of carbines, the clash of sabres, and the roar of cannon were incessant. It was a war of giants which Fauquier and Loudoun saw in those days—and not until the rear of Lee’s column had nearly reached the Potomac, did General Hooker by a desperate effort succeed in driving Stuart back.
In these pages I must leave that obstinate struggle undescribed. It was full of romantic scenes, and illustrated by daring courage: but all is lost to view in the lurid smoke of Gettysburg.
With one scene in the hurrying drama I shall pass to greater events.
But first, I beg to introduce to the reader a very singular personage, who is destined to play an important part in the history I am writing.
XI. — NIGHTHAWK.
It was the night of the 20th of June, 1863. Stuart’s head-quarters had been established in a house on the roadside above Middleburg.
We had been fighting all day; had returned only at nightfall: and I was exchanging a few words with Stuart, before following the staff to rest, when all at once a third personage, who seemed to have arisen from the floor, stood before us.