Scituate High School - Chimes Yearbook (Scituate, MA)

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16 THE CHIMES Around his headquarters there were never any grumbHng or droop- ing countenances. Instead, if anyone happened to ride up there some niglit, he would probably come upon a group of men singing around the campfire to Joe Sweeney ' s banjo (Joe Sweeny was the General ' s official minstrel). In the midst of them would be Jeb, singing and laughing with his golden voice; or maybe, if they were near a place where there were ladies, they would be dancing. Often an aide would ride up in the midst of the gayety and whisper in the General ' s ear. Whereupon Jeb would smile, beckon to his men, and say, Ladies we will be back to continue this dance after we ' ve chased those Yanks away. But don ' t think for a minute that he didn ' t have a serious side. He did. Beneath his gayety ran a dark prophetic strain. He had a deep-seated feeling that he would be killed before the war was over. He was deeply religious and never drank in his life. Nor would he allow his officers or men to drink around camp. On Sundays one would hear Joe Sweeny, by Jeb ' s orders, strumming Rock of Ages instead of Buffalo gals, won ' t you come tonight? When he raid- ed, he never allowed anything to be destroyed except materials and property that could be of use to the Federals. If any soldier was caught pilfering personal property, other than horses and mules, he would be punished. Such was the hard and fast principle of Stuart. General Stuart came of a good Virginia family and had wished to become a schoolmaster but was sent to West Point instead. For several years he served in Texas, fighting the Indians. There on the frontier he met his wife. Flora Letcher Cooke, and it took him exactly fourteen days to court and marry her, for Jeb was always a quick worker. They had nine years of married life, broken by the many vicissitudes of a military life. The close of that career came after he had fought skillfully and gallantly at the head of his horsemen in many campaigns. Jeb had had his way with the Yanks for about two years, but at last in the winter of 1862 to 1863 the tables commenced to change. Among the Confederates, men and horses were wearing out; while in the blue ranks the cavalry had steadily grown into an excellent, efficient army. Also for some months past, a fiery little general had been busy running things up that way, Philip Henry Sheridan. On May 12, 1864, at Yellow Tavern, Virginia, a battle was rag- ing between Sheridan ' s cavalry and the Black Horse troopers. Through the dense smoke could be caught occasionally a glimpse of a

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THE CHIMES 15 CAVALIER — American Style. Jane Pitkins, ' 35 If you should hapi en to glance through Brady ' s Photographic History of the Civil War, a striking portrait of an officer would catch your eye. You would notice the long handsome face that looks as if it had been l oldly molded by some master sculptor in strong deft planes. The face is adorned with an immense spreading beard that gives its wearer a dashing piratical look, but the eyes are clear and searching. He is dressed in the Confederate cavalry jacket and wears great, soft cavalry boots. On his knee rests a rakish felt hat, garnished with a black ostrich plume. Beneath his white leather gauntlets gleams a golden sash. The picture is of Alajor-General James Ewell Brown Stuart of the Confederate Cavalry, commonly called Jeb Stewart. ' ' J Stuart — say that to a Northern trooper of ' 62 and he would groan with dismay. In his mind ' s eye he would see a shrieking hoard of grey horsemen sweeping towards him, gleaming swords cutting and slash- ing. Thundering at their head would be a long-legged man on a great horse, singing and shouting with a metallic, ringing voice. Such was Jeb Stuart, leader of the Black Plorse Cavalry of Lee ' s Army of Northern Virginia, in the thirty-fifth year of his life, with only a year or two left to live. Moving swiftly to and fro across the country with a band of ragged, fearless men at his back, striking where he w as least expected, he caused a futile rubbing of hands by the bewildered Northern generals. He would lead the U. S. Cavalry on only to leave them and, when next heard of, would be miles away, plundering, destroying, and causing general havoc. In fact he was a cavalry will-o ' -wis]), quick and fearless; to him war was a game and let the best man win. After Jackson ' s fall at Chancellorsville, Stuart was put in charge of Jackson ' s troops. Placing himself at the head of the long, gre} ' line of soldiers, he shouted, Forward, ' ' and led the charge in per- son, straight at the Union breast-works. As he rode, he sang, and above the sharp crack and whine of the l)ullets could be heard his ring ing voice — Now, Joe Hooker, won ' t you come out of the wild- erness ? His men idolized him. AAdiat soldier would not love a leader who went into battle singing and was always cheerful and resourceful even in the most difficult places! They wcnild follow him anywhere, even into that Hall of Great ' arriors — A alhalla.

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THE CHIMES 17 man with a plume, on a big, bay horse, wheeHng here and there, en- couraging his men. A bkie trooper raised his gun and aimed careful- ly- Jeb Stuart had played and lost the game. The bullet that found itis mark brought an end to one of the most vivid examples of Amer- ican gallantry. Never again will you see his like. A WEEK AT SCITUATE HIGH Dorothea Gillis, ' 35 Monday morning, bright and fair, All the students gathered there Waiting for the bell at nine, — See them all fall into line, Tuesday morning! March along, What a happy eager throng! To your seats now, do not lag; Attention please; salute the flag. Wednesday morning, — oh what fun. Pencils sharpened, work begun. Teachers here and teachers there. Watch your step, now, all beware ! Thursday morning, — look who ' s here, The picture man, but have no fear, He ' ll make us look so sweet and fair. No one would think we had a care. Friday morning, — boy o boy ! This day fills our hearts with joy. We have had our share of fun. And our work for the week is done. Hopeful Herbie says: ' T don ' t care how high 1 go as long as one foot is on the ground. l £N MEMORIAL LIBRARY SGITUATE.