_Introduction_.

He was a little under six feet in height, slender, graceful, and
finely proportioned, with hands and feet of distinctive beauty. And
his fingers were gifted with a woman's touch in the sick-room, and
an artist's grasp upon the pencil and the brush of the water-colorist.

It was said of him that his manner was as courtly as that of
"Sir Roger de Coverly." Words which though fitly applied are but as
the bare outlines of a picture, for he was the embodiment of what
was best in the Old South. He was gifted with a rare charm. There
was charm in his pale face, which in conversation flashed out of its
deep thoughtfulness into vivid animation. His fine head was crowned
with soft hair fast whitening before its time. His eyes shone under
his broad white forehead, wise and serene, until his dauntless spirit,
or his lofty enthusiasm awoke to fire their grey depths. His was a
face that women trusted and that little children looked up into with
smiles. Those whom he called friend learned the meaning of that name,
and he drew and linked men to him from all ranks and conditions of
life.

Beloved by many, those who guard his memory coin the very fervor of
their hearts into the speech with which they link his name.
"A very Chevalier Bayard" he was called.

Of him was quoted that noble epitaph on the great Lord Fairfax: