. Sword and pen : or, Ventures and adventures of Willard Glazier in war and literature ... . mis-erable dead rebel, replied, that he thought any manbrave enough to die for a principle, should be re-spected for that bravery, whether his cause were rightor wrong. On the eighteenth of the month our cavalry relievedthe infantry on the line of the Rapidan, and on thenineteenth, in a sharp skirmish between Stuarts andBayards forces, Captain Charles Walters, of the HarrisLight Cavalry, was killed. This officer was very pop-ular in the regiment, and his death cast a gloom overall. Wrapped in a soldier
. Sword and pen : or, Ventures and adventures of Willard Glazier in war and literature ... . mis-erable dead rebel, replied, that he thought any manbrave enough to die for a principle, should be re-spected for that bravery, whether his cause were rightor wrong. On the eighteenth of the month our cavalry relievedthe infantry on the line of the Rapidan, and on thenineteenth, in a sharp skirmish between Stuarts andBayards forces, Captain Charles Walters, of the HarrisLight Cavalry, was killed. This officer was very pop-ular in the regiment, and his death cast a gloom overall. Wrapped in a soldiers blanket his body wasconsigned to a soldiers grave at the solemn hour ofmidnight. And while the sad obsequies were beingperformed, orders came for the retreat to Culpepper. We buried him darkly at dead of night,The sod with our bayonets turning,By the struggling moonbeams misty light,And our lanterns dimly burning. • • • • • Slowly and sadly we laid him down, On the field of his fame fresh and gory ;We carved not a line, we raised not a stone,But left him alone with his B CHAPTER XIII. MANASSAS AND FREDERICKSBURG. flfanassas.—The flying troops.—The unknown hero.—Desperate attempt to stop the retreat.—Recruiting the decimated ranks.—Fredericksburg.—Bravery of Meaghers brigade.—The impreg-nable heights.—The cost of battles.—Death of Bayard.—Outlineof his life. THE plains of Manassas still speak to us. Thesmoke of battle that once hung over them haslong since rolled away, but the blood of over fortythousand brave men of both North and South whohere met, and fighting fell to rise no more, consecratesthe soil. Between them and us the grass has growngreen for many and many a summer, but it cannothide the memory of their glorious deeds. From thisaltar of sacrifice the incense yet sweeps waters of Bull Run Creek swirl against theirbanks as of old, and, to the heedless passer-by, utternothing of the despairing time when red carnage h
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