1 62 The " One-Armed Devil." 



officers rode gloriously. Our volunteer cavalry, 

 late in the war, rode strongly, though not always 

 handsomely. During the past twenty years the 

 severe work and long marches of our regular 

 mounted troops have militated greatly against 

 equestrianism as an art. Some of the most ac- 

 complished riders I have ever known have been in 

 the United States Army. Philip Kearny, that 

 preux chevalier, the " one-armed devil," was in 

 every sense a superb rider. I have seen him with 

 his cap in one hand, his empty sleeve blowing 

 outward with his speed, and his sword dangling 

 from his wrist, ride over a Virginia snake fence 

 such as most of us would want to knock at least 

 the top rail off. 



" How he strode his brown steed ! How we saw his blade 

 brighten 

 In the one hand still left, — and the reins in his teeth ! 

 He laughed like a boy when the holidays heighten, 

 But a soldier's glance shot from his visor beneath ! " 



And a man who could not follow him did not long 

 remain upon his staff. 



One of my lost opportunities occurred for such 

 a reason during Pope's campaign, when General 

 Kearny, who had dispatched right and left all his 

 aides, beckoned to me at dusk one evening to 

 ride out and draw the fire of some of the enemy's 

 troops supposed to be on the edge of a wood, 

 some half a mile or so distant. My own horse 



