saluted, and turned my horse. Stuart cantered on singing.     

       In a few minutes he was out of sight, and I was riding toward the Rappahannock.     

  

  

       II. — HOW I BECAME A MEMBER OF GENERAL STUART’S STAFF.     

       If the reader has done me the honor to peruse the first volume of my memoirs, I indulge the vanity of supposing that he will like to be informed how I became a member of General Stuart’s staff.     

       When oaks crash down they are apt to prostrate the saplings growing around them. Jackson was a very tall oak, and I a very humble sapling. When the great trunk fell, the mere twig disappeared. I had served with Jackson from the beginning of the war; that king of battle dead at Chancellorsville, I had found myself without a commander, and without a home. I was not only called upon in that May of 1863, to mourn the illustrious soldier, who had done me the honor to call me his friend; I had also to look around me for some other general; some other position in the army.     

       I was revolving this important subject in my mind, when I received a note from General J.E.B. Stuart, Jackson’s friend and brother in arms. “Come and see me,” said this note. Forty-eight hours afterward I was at Stuart’s head-quarters, near Culpeper Court-House.     

       When I entered his tent, or rather breadth of canvas, stretched beneath a great oak, Stuart rose from the red blanket upon which he was lying, and held out his hand. As he gazed at me in silence I could see his face flush.     

       “You remind me of Jackson,” he said, retaining my hand and gazing fixedly at me.     

       I bowed my head, making no other reply; for the sight of Stuart brought back to me also many memories; the scouting of the Valley, the hard combats of the Lowland, Cold Harbor, Manassas, Sharpsburg, Fredericksburg, and that last greeting between Jackson and the great commander of the cavalry, on the weird moonlight night at 

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