General J, E. B. Stuart.
E. J. KYLE.
M HILE the names of Lee and Jackson are commemo
rated in song ana story and loving hands build
lofty monuments to their memory, we should not forget the
names of those of the lesser lights that flashed and grew
brilliant in that terrible crisis of our country’s history. One
of the noblest of these was born where the Blue Ridge moun
tains sink down to meet the plains of Virginia, and there he
passed his childhood’s happy hours under the soft Southern
skies where summer poured out her flood of sunshine and
showers, and the beautiful land smiled with plenty; where the
cotton fields waved their banners of peace, and the wheat fields
waved back their banners of gold; where the mocking birds
fluttered and sang in the shadow of the trees, and bright wa
ters rippled in eternal melody; where he breathed the South
ern air that came from jungles of roses, whispering the deeds
of Southern chivalry; surrounded by friends whose hearts
are as warm as Southern sunshine, and every home was a
temple of love and liberty.
It was here that the young heart of Stuart was first filled
with that love and devotion to his native land that caused him
in after years, when the enemy came from the North and
spread destruction over our Southland, to stand in the de
fense of his native state like a mighty cliff that hurls back the
attacks of the storm. The daring deeds of him and his men
in that fearful struggle read like the records of the ancient
knights of chivalry; and they are recorded on the pages of
history where they will be read with wonder and admiration
throughout all the cycles of time; of how he gave his name a
sure place on the page of fame by his daring reconnoissance
around and through McClellan’s army, driving the enemy
back wherever encountered, filling them with terror, and