Part of a letter from John Singleton Mosby to Pauline early in the Civil War;
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Camp Cooper, November 21, 1861.
My dearest Pauline:
On Monday I participated in what is admitted to have been the most dashing feat of the war. Col. Lee took about 80 men out on a scout, – hearing where a company of about the same number of Yankees were on picket, we went down and attacked. They were concealed in a pine thicket, where one man ought to have been equal to ten outside. We charged right into them and they poured a raking fire into our ranks. Fount Beattie and myself, in the ardor of pursuit, had gotten separated some distance from our main body, when we came upon two Yankees in the woods. We ordered them to surrender, but they replied by firing on us. One of the Yankees jumped behind a tree and was taking aim at Fount when I leveled my pistol at him, but missed him. He also fired, but missed Fount, though within a few feet of him. I then jumped down from my horse and as the fellow turned to me I rested my carbine against a tree and shot him dead. He never knew what struck him. Fount fired at one with his pistol, but missed. A South Carolinian came up and killed the other. . . . The man I killed had a letter in his pocket from his sweetheart Clara. . . . They were of the Brooklyn Zouaves and fought at Manassas.
Part of a letter from John Singleton Mosby to Pauline early in the Civil War;
------------------------------------------
Camp Cooper, November 21, 1861.
My dearest Pauline:
On Monday I participated in what is admitted to have been the most dashing feat of the war. Col. Lee took about 80 men out on a scout, – hearing where a company of about the same number of Yankees were on picket, we went down and attacked. They were concealed in a pine thicket, where one man ought to have been equal to ten outside. We charged right into them and they poured a raking fire into our ranks. Fount Beattie and myself, in the ardor of pursuit, had gotten separated some distance from our main body, when we came upon two Yankees in the woods. We ordered them to surrender, but they replied by firing on us. One of the Yankees jumped behind a tree and was taking aim at Fount when I leveled my pistol at him, but missed him. He also fired, but missed Fount, though within a few feet of him. I then jumped down from my horse and as the fellow turned to me I rested my carbine against a tree and shot him dead. He never knew what struck him. Fount fired at one with his pistol, but missed. A South Carolinian came up and killed the other. . . . The man I killed had a letter in his pocket from his sweetheart Clara. . . . They were of the Brooklyn Zouaves and fought at Manassas.
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