Page:Southern Historical Society Papers volume 24.djvu/363

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mart-, and took command of an unarmed suttler, he looked every inch a soldier.

CAUSE OF THE STIR.

When Willis returned from the delivery of his charge to the quar- termaster he explained tin- town's stir: The citizens had ordered Stuart to halt his column long enough to eat the dinners prepared for themselves, and handed around by the ladies, who did not take time to don hats and aprons. It is a pity to draw the brush over this lovely picture, but truth demands that I should say that the watch- ing, waiting, vanguard was forgotten! All that we got was a pelting, driving rain. The dinner over, the orderly dashed up and said: "The General orders that you push ahead and cross Cedar creek, now swollen by the rain, unless your horses have to swim." Our zeal pronounced the creek fordable, although it was angry, dashing, crashing and swollen much beyond its usual limits.

After a dangerous struggle we crossed, and sent back word that it would be impossible to get the artillery over. Ah ! who can tell what would have been the result if the artillery could have crossed ? After marching a short distance, we came to a splendid mansion on our left, whose lawn was extended to the road, and was reached on foot by a stile. Here we halted and called out the owner, a ruddy, hearty old man. In reply to our questions he gave unsatisfactory answers.

HIS MANNER CHANGED.

While the interview was going on he was joined by his daughter, whose countenance was sad and downcast. In a few seconds her face was illuminated; smiles rippled over her cheeks; she clapped her hands, and exclaimed: " Oh, father, these are our boys. Don't you see the gray beneath their overcoats?" The old man leaped from the stile and began handshaking and questioning, but "on" was the word, and on we went. Next an orderly came, in full gal- lop, with the order to charge anything in our way except artillery. On we dashed. The shades of night were gathering fast; the rain was coming down in torrents, and we had no idea how far from us was our support; but we knew from horse-tracks and an occasional straggler that we were nearing the enemy. About half an hour after sunset our guide, who was every inch a guide, advised us to charge an old Colonial brick church, the headquarters of the enemy's picket-post. With a rush the charge was made, with complete suc- cess. The rain had driven in all the pickets, who had lighted up the