Nor had he shed any of the brilliant plumage that he loved so well.

The great plume in his gold-corded hat lifted and fluttered in the wind as he galloped about.
The broad sash of yellow silk still encircled his waist, and on his heels were large golden spurs.

Harry, as he followed him, heard him singing to himself, "Old Joe Hooker, won't you come out of the Wilderness ?" That line seemed to have taken possession of Stuart's mind.
All the staff and many of the soldiers along the battle front noted the difference between their new commander and the one who had fallen so disastrously in the night.

There was never anything spectacular about Jackson.

In the soberest of uniforms, save once or twice, he would ride along the battle front on his little sorrel horse, making no gestures.
It was not until the soldiers saw Stuart in the light that they knew of Jackson's fall.