again crossed the Potomac; then the campaign of October, ending with Kilpatrick’s route at Buckland; the assault on Meade’s head of column, when he came over to Mine Run; the bold attack on his rear there; and the hard, incessant fighting since Grant had come over to the Wilderness;--I remembered all these splendid scenes and illustrious services as I rode on beside Stuart, through the fields and forests of Hanover, and thought, “This is one of those great figures which live forever in history, and men’s memories!” To-day, I know that I was not mistaken, or laboring under the influence of undue affection and admiration. That figure has passed from earth, but still lives! Stuart is long dead, and the grass covers him; but there is scarce a foot of the soil of Virginia that does not speak of him. He is gone, but his old mother is proud of him--is she not? Answer, mountains where he fought--lowlands, where he fell--river, murmuring a dirge, as you foam through the rocks yonder, past his grave! XXXV. “SOON WITH ANGELS I’LL BE MARCHING.” Let me rapidly pass over the events of the tenth of May. Gordon’s little brigade had been ordered to follow on the rear of the enemy, while Fitz Lee moved round by Taylorsville to get in front of them. Stuart rode and met Gordon, gave the brave North Carolinian, so soon to fall, his last orders; and then hastened back to Fitz Lee, who had continued to press the enemy. They had struck the Central railroad, but the gray cavaliers were close on them. Colonel Robert Randolph, that brave soul, doomed like Gordon, charged them furiously here, took nearly a hundred prisoners, and drove them across the road. At this moment Stuart returned, and pushed forward toward Taylorsville, from which point he intended to hasten on and get in their front. About four in the afternoon we reached Fork church, and the command halted to rest. Stuart stretched himself at full length, surrounded by his staff, in a field of clover; and placing his hat over his face to protect his eyes from the light, snatched a short sleep, of which he was very greatly in need. The column again moved, and that night camped near Taylorsville, awaiting the work of the morrow. At daylight on the 11th, Stuart moved toward Ashland. Here he came up with the enemy; attacked them furiously, and drove them before him, and out of the village, killing, wounding, and capturing a considerable number. Then he put his column again in motion, advanced rapidly by the Telegraph road toward Yellow Tavern, a point near Richmond, where he intended to intercept the enemy--the moment of decisive struggle, to which all the fighting along the roads of Hanover had only been the prelude, was at hand. Stuart was riding at the head of his column, looking straight forward, and with no thought, apparently, save that of arriving in time.