CHAPTER VII

  JEB STUART'S BALL

  But Hooker, the new Northern commander, did not yet move. The chiefcause was mud. The winter having been very cold in the first half,was very rainy in the second half. The numerous brooks and creeks andsmaller rivers remained flooded beyond their banks, and the Rappahannockflowed a swollen and mighty stream. Ponds and little lakes stoodeverywhere. Roads had been destroyed by the marching of mighty massesand the rolling of thousands of heavy wheels. Horses often sank nearlyto the knee when they trod new paths through the muddy fields. Therewas mud, mud everywhere.

  Hooker, moreover, was confronted by a long line of earthworks and otherintrenchments, extending for twenty miles along the Rappahannock,and defended by the victors of Fredericksburg. After that disastrousday the Northern masses at home were not so eager for a battle. Thecountry realized that it was not well to rush a foe, led by men likeLee and Jackson.

  But Hooker was a brave and confident man. The North, always ready,was sending forward fresh troops, and when he crossed the Rappahannock,as he intended to do, he would have more men and more guns than Burnsidehad led when he attacked the blazing heights of Fredericksburg. Lincolnand Stanton, warned too by the great disasters through their attempts tomanage armies in the field from the Capitol, were giving Hooker a freerhand.

  On the other hand, the Confederate president and his cabinet suddenlycurtailed Lee's plans. A fourth of his veterans under Longstreet weredrawn off to meet a flank attack of other Northern forces which seemedto be threatened upon Richmond. Lee was left with only sixty thousandmen to face Hooker's growing odds.

  It was not any wonder that the spirits of the Southern lads sanksomewhat. Harry realized more fully every day that it was notsufficient for them merely to defeat the Northern armies. They mustdestroy them. The immense patriotism of those who fought for the Unionalways filled up their depleted ranks and more, and they were gettingbetter generals all the time. Hancock and Reynolds and many anotherwere rising to fame in the east.

  The Invincibles were posted nearly opposite Falmouth, and Harry had manychances to see them. On his second visit the chessboard was mended soperfectly that the split was not visible, and the two colonels sat downto finish their game. Fifteen minutes later a dispatch from GeneralJackson to Colonel Leonidas Talbot arrived, telling him to leave at onceby the railway in the Confederate rear for Richmond. President Daviswished detailed information from him about the fortifications along thecoasts of North Carolina and South Carolina, which were now heavilythreatened by the enemy.

  The two colonels had not made a move, but Colonel Leonidas Talbot rose,buttoned every button of his neat tunic, and said in precise tones:

  "Hector, I depart in a half hour. You will, of course, have commandof the regiment in my absence, and if any young lieutenants should beexceedingly obstreperous in the course of that time, perhaps I can proveto them that they are not as old as they think they are."

  The colonel's severity of tone was belied by a faint twinkle in thecorner of his eye, and the lads knew that they had nothing to fear,especially as Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire was quite as stern andable a guardian as Colonel Talbot.

  Colonel Talbot departed, good wishes following him in a shower, and thatday a young officer arrived from South Carolina and took a place in theInvincibles that had been made vacant by death.

  Harry was still with his friends when this officer arrived, and the tall,slender figure and dark face of the man seemed familiar to him. Alittle thought recalled where he had first seen that eager gesture andthe manner so intense that it betrayed an excessive enthusiasm. Butwhen Harry did remember him he remembered him well.

  "How do you do, Captain Bertrand?" he said--the man wore the uniform ofa captain.

  Bertrand stared at Harry, and then he gradually remembered. It wasnot strange that he was puzzled at first, as in the two years thathad passed since Bertrand was in Colonel Kenton's house at Pendleton,Harry had grown much larger and more powerful, and was deeply tanned byall kinds of weather. But when he did recall him his greeting was fullof warmth.

  "Ah, now I know!" he exclaimed. "It is Harry Kenton, the son of ColonelGeorge Kenton! And we held that meeting at your father's house on theeve of the war! And then we went up to Frankfort, and we did not takeKentucky out of the Union."

  "No, we didn't," said Harry with a laugh. "Captain Bertrand, LieutenantSt. Clair and Lieutenant Langdon."

  But Bertrand had known them both in Charleston, and he shook their handswith zeal and warmth, showing what Harry thought--as he had thought thefirst time he saw him--an excess of manner.

  "We've a fine big dry place under this tree," said St. Clair. "Let'ssit down and talk. You're the new Captain in our regiment, are you not?"

  "Yes," replied Bertrand. "I've just come from Richmond, where I met mychief, that valiant man, Colonel Leonidas Talbot. I have been servingmostly on the coast of the Carolinas, and when I asked to be sent to thelarger theater of war they very naturally assigned me to one of my ownhome regiments. Alas! there is plenty of room for me and many more inthe ranks of the Invincibles."

  "We have been well shot up, that's true," said Langdon, whom nothingcould depress more than a minute, "but we've put more than a millionYankees out of the running."

  "How are your Knights of the Golden Circle getting on?" asked Harry.

  Bertrand flushed a little, despite his swarthiness.

  "Not very well, I fear," he replied. "It has taken us longer to conquerthe Yankees than we thought."

  "I don't see that we've begun to conquer them as a people or a section,"said St. Clair, who was always frank and direct. "We've won bigvictories, but just look and you'll see 'em across the river there,stronger and more numerous than ever, and that, too, on the heels of thebig defeat they sustained at Fredericksburg. And, if you'll pardon me,Captain, I don't believe much in the great slave empire that the Knightsof the Golden Circle planned."

  Bertrand's black eyes flashed.

  "And why not?" he asked sharply.

  "To take Cuba and Mexico would mean other wars, and if we took them we'dhave other kinds of people whom we'd have to hold in check with arms.A fine mess we'd make of it, and we haven't any right to jump on Cubaand Mexico, anyway. I've got a far better plan."

  "And what is that?" asked Bertrand, with an increasing sharpness ofmanner.

  "The North means to free our slaves. We'll defeat the North and show toher that she can't. Then we'll free 'em ourselves."

  "Free them ourselves!" exclaimed Bertrand. "What are we fighting forbut the right to hold our own property?"

  "I didn't understand it exactly that way. It seems to me that we wentto war to defend the right of a state to go out of the Union when itpleases."

  "I tell you, this war is being fought to establish our title to our own."

  "It's all right, so we fight well," said Harry, who saw Bertrand'srising color and who believed him to be tinged with fanaticism; "it'sall that can be asked of us. After Happy Tom sleeps in the White Housewith his boots on, as he says he's going to do, we can decide, eachaccording to his own taste, what he was fighting for."

  "I've known all the time what was in my mind," said Bertrandemphatically. "Of course, the extension of the new republic towardthe north will be cut off by the Yankees. Then its expansion must besouthward, and that means in time the absorption of Mexico, all theWest Indies, and probably Central America."

  St. Clair was about to retort, but Harry gave him a warning look and hecontented himself with rolling into a little easier position. Harryforesaw that these two South Carolinians would not be friends, and inany event he hated fruitless political discussions.

  Bertrand excused himself presently and went away.

  "Arthur," said Harry, "I wouldn't argue with him. He's a captain in theInvincibles now, and you're a lieutenant. It's in his power to maketrouble for you."

  "You're not appealing to any emotion in me that might bear the name offe
ar, are you, Harry?"

  "You know I'm not. Why argue with a man who has fire on the brain?Although he's older than you, Arthur, he hasn't got as good a rein onhis temper."

  "You can't resist flattery like that, can you, Arthur? I know Icouldn't," said Happy Tom, grinning his genial grin.

  St. Clair's face relaxed.

  "You're right, fellows," he said. "We oughtn't to be quarreling amongourselves when there are so many Yankees to fight."

  Mail forwarded from Richmond was distributed in the camp the next dayand Harry was in the multitude gathered about the officers distributingit. The delivery of the mail was always a stirring event in either army,and as the war rolled on it steadily increased in importance.

  There were men in this very group who had not heard from home since theyleft it two years before, and there were letters for men who would neverreceive them. The letters were being given out at various points,but where Harry stood a major was calling them in a loud, clear voice.

  "John Escombe, Field's brigade."

  Escombe, deeply tanned and twenty-two, ran forward and received a thickletter addressed in a woman's handwriting, that of his mother, and,amid cheering at his luck, disappeared in the crowd.

  "Thomas Anderson, Gregg's brigade. Girl's handwriting, too. Lucky boy,Tom."

  "Hey, Tom, open it and show it to us! Maybe her picture's inside it!I'll bet she's got red hair!"

  But Tom fled, blushing, and opened his letter when he was at a safedistance.

  "Carlton Ives, Thomas' brigade."

  "In hospital, Major, but I'll take the letter to him. He's in mycompany."

  "Stephen Brayton, Lane's brigade."

  There was a silence for a moment, and then some one said:

  "Dead, at Antietam, sir."

  The major put the letter on one side, and called:

  "Thomas Langdon, the Invincibles."

  Langdon darted forward and seized his letter.

  "It's from my father," he said as he glanced at the superscription,although it was half hidden from him by a mist that suddenly appearedbefore his eyes.

  "Here, Tom, stand behind us and read it," said Harry, who was waiting inan anxiety that was positively painful for a letter to himself.

  "Henry Lawton, Pender's brigade," called the major. "This is from agirl, too, and there is a photograph inside. I can feel it. Wish Icould get such a letter myself, Henry."

  Lawton, his letter in his hand, retreated rapidly amid envious cheers.

  "Charles Carson, Lane's brigade."

  "Dead at Fredericksburg, sir; I helped to bury him."

  "Thomas Carstairs, Field's brigade."

  "Killed at the Second Manassas, sir."

  "Richard Graves, Archer's brigade."

  "Died in hospital after Antietam, sir."

  "David Moulton, Field's brigade."

  "Killed nearly a year ago, in the valley, sir."

  "William Fitzpatrick, Lane's brigade."

  "Taken prisoner at Antietam. Not yet exchanged, sir."

  "Herbert Jones, Pender's brigade."

  "Killed at South Mountain, sir."

  Harry felt a little shiver. The list of those who would never receivetheir letters was growing too long. But this delivery of the mailseemed to run in streaks. Presently it found a streak of the living.It was a great mail that came that day, the largest the army had yetreceived, but the crowd, hungry for a word from home, did not seem todiminish. The ring continually pressed a little closer.

  St. Clair received two letters, and, a long while afterwards, there wasone for Dalton, who, however, had not been so long a time without news,as the battlefield was his own state, Virginia. Harry watched them withan envy that he tried to keep down, and after a while he saw that theheap of letters was becoming very small.

  His anxiety became so painful that it was hard to bear. He knew thathis father had been in the thick of the great battle at Stone River,but not a word from him or about him had ever come. No news in thiscase was bad news. If he were alive he would certainly write, and therewas Confederate communication between Eastern Tennessee and NorthernVirginia.

  It was thus with a sinking heart that he watched the diminishing heap.Many of the disappointed ones had already gone away, hopeless, and Harryfelt like following them, but the major picked up a thick letter in acoarse brown envelope and called:

  "Lieutenant Henry Kenton, staff of Lieutenant-General Thomas JonathanJackson."

  Harry sprang forward and seized his letter. Then he found a placebehind a big tree, where St. Clair, Langdon and Dalton were readingtheirs, and opened it. He had already seen that the address was in hisfather's handwriting and he believed that he was alive. The lettermust have been written after the battle of Stone River or it would havearrived earlier. He took a hurried glance at the date and saw that itwas near the close of January, at least three weeks after the battle.Then all apprehension was gone.

  It was a long letter, dated from headquarters near Chattanooga,Tennessee. Colonel Kenton had just heard of the battle of Fredericksburgand he was rejoicing in the glorious victory. He hoped and believedthat his son had passed through it safely. The Southern army had notbeen so successful in the west as in the east, but he believed that theyhad met tougher antagonists there, the men of the west and northwest,used to all kinds of hardships, and, alas! their own Kentuckians.At both Perryville and Stone River they had routed the antagonistswho met them first, but they had been stopped by their own brethren.

  Harry smiled and murmured to himself:

  "You can never put down dad's state pride. With him the Kentuckians arealways first."

  He had a good deal of this state pride himself, although in a lessaccentuated form, and, after the momentary thought, he went on. Thecolonel was looking for a letter from his son--Harry had written twicesince Fredericksburg, and he knew now that the letters would arrivesafely. He himself had been wounded slightly in a skirmish just afterStone River, but he was now entirely well. The Southern forces weregathering and General Bragg would have a great army with which theywere confident of winning a victory like that of the Second Manassas orFredericksburg. He was glad that his son was on the staff of so great agenius as General Jackson and that he was also under the command of thatother great genius, Lee.

  Harry stopped reading for a moment or two and smiled with satisfaction.The impression that Lee and Jackson had made upon the South was asgreat in the west as in the east. The hero-worship which the fiery andimpressionable South gives in such unstinted measure to these two menhad begun already. Harry was glad that his father recognized the greatVirginians so fully, men who allied with genius temperate and loftylives.

  He resumed his reading, but the remainder of the letter was occupiedwith personal details. The colonel closed with some good advice to hisson about caring for himself on the march and in camp, drawn from hisown experience both in the Mexican war and the present strife.

  Harry read his letter three times. Then he folded it carefully and putit in an inside pocket of his tunic.

  "Is it good news, Harry?" asked Happy Tom, who had already finished withhis own letter.

  "Yes, it's cheerful."

  "So's mine. I'm glad to hear that your father's all right. Mine didn'tgo to the war. I wish you could meet my father, Harry. I get mycheerful disposition and my good manners from him. When the war wasabout to begin and I went over to Charleston in about the most splendiduniform that was ever created, he said: 'You fellows will get lickedlike thunder, and maybe you'll deserve it. As for you, you'll probablyget a part of your fool head shot off, but it's so thick and hard thatit will be a benefit to you to lose some of it and have the rest openedup. But remember, Tom, whenever you do come back, no matter how manylegs and arms and portions of your head you've left behind, there'll bea welcome in the old house for you. You're the fatted calf, but you'resure to come back a lot leaner and maybe with more sense.'"

  "He certainly talked to you straight."

  "
So he did, Harry; but those words were not nearly so rough as theysound, because when I came away I saw tears in his eyes. Father's asmart man, a money-maker as good as the Yankees themselves. He's gotsea island cotton in warehouses in more than one place along the coast,and he writes me that he's already selling it to the blockade runnersfor unmentionable prices in British and French gold. Harry, if yourfortunes are broken up by the war, you and your father will have to comedown and share with us."

  "Thanks for your invitation, Tom; but from what you say about yourfather we'd be about as welcome as a bear in a kitchen."

  "Don't you believe it. You come."

  "Arthur, what do you hear?" asked Harry.

  "My people are well and they're sending me a lot of things. My motherhas put in the pack a brand new uniform. She sewed on the gold laceherself. I hope the next battle won't be fought before it gets here."

  "Impossible," said Harry gravely. "General Hooker is too polite a manto push us before Lieutenant St. Clair receives his new clothes."

  "I hope so," said St. Clair seriously.

  The new uniform, in fact, came a few days later, and as it even exceededits promise, St. Clair was thoroughly happy. Harry also received asecond letter from Colonel Kenton, telling of the receipt of his own,and wishing him equally good fortune in the new battle which they in thewest heard was impending in the east.

  Harry believed they would surely close with Hooker soon. They had beenalong the Rappahannock for many weeks now, and the winter of cold rainhad not yet broken up, but spring could not be far away. Meanwhile hewas drawn closer than ever to Jackson, his great commander, and wasalmost constantly in his service.

  It was, perhaps, the difference in their natures that made thehero-worship in the boy so strong. Jackson was quiet, reserved anddeeply religious. Harry was impulsive, physically restless, and now andthen talkative, as the young almost always are. Jackson's impassiveface and the few words--but always to the point--that he spoke,impressed him. In his opinion now Stonewall Jackson could do no wrongnor make any mistake of judgment.

  The months had not been unpleasant. The Southern army was recuperatingfrom great battles, and, used to farm or forest life, the soldierseasily made shelter for themselves against the rain and mud. TheSouthern pickets along the river also established good relations withthe pickets on the other side. Why not? They were of the same bloodand the same nation. There was no battle now, and what was the use ofsneaking around like an Indian, trying to kill somebody who was doingyou no harm? That was assassination, not war.

  The officers winked at this borderline friendship. A Yankee picket ina boat near the left shore could knot a newspaper into a tight wad andthrow it to the Johnny Reb picket in another boat near the right bank,and there were strong-armed Johnny Reb pickets who could throw a hunkof chewing tobacco all the way to the Yankee side. Already they weresowing the seeds of a good will which should follow a mighty war.

  Harry often went to the bank on the warmer and more sunny days andleisurely watched the men on the other side. St. Clair, Langdon andDalton usually joined him, if their duties allowed. It was well intoMarch, a dry and warm day, when they sat on a little hillock and gazedat four of the men in blue who were fishing from a small boat near theirshore. St. Clair was the last to join the little party, and when hecame he was greeted with a yell by the men on the left bank. One ofthem put up his hands, trumpet-shaped, to his mouth and called:

  "Is that President Davis who has just joined you?"

  "No," replied Harry, using his hands in like fashion. "What makes youthink so?"

  "Because Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like him. I've gotto put my hands over my eyes to protect them from the blaze of thatuniform."

  St. Clair, who wore his new uniform, which was modelled somewhat afterthe brilliant fashion of Stuart's, smiled with content. He was making agreat hit.

  "You can do all the talking, Harry," he said.

  "As I told you, he isn't President Davis," Harry called, "but he's sure,when he's old enough, to be one of his successors."

  "Bet you a dollar, Johnny Reb, that President Davis has no successor."

  "Take you, Yank, and I'll collect that bet from you when I ride downPennsylvania Avenue in my Confederate uniform at the head of the Armyof Northern Virginia."

  "Oh, no, you won't; you'll pay it to me before the State House inRichmond, with the Army of the Potomac looking on and the Stars andStripes waving gracefully over your head."

  "Both of you are betting on things too far off," said Langdon, who couldkeep out of the conversation no longer. "I'll bet you two dollars thatnot one of those four men in the boat catches a fish inside of tenminutes."

  "In Confederate bills or in money?" was called back.

  Roars of laughter, from both sides of the Rappahannock, crossed oneanother above the middle of the stream.

  "What's this?" exclaimed a sharp voice behind the four. "Conversationwith the enemy! It's against all the rules of war!"

  They looked around and saw Bertrand, his face flushed and his eyessparkling. Harry leaned back lazily, but St. Clair spoke up quickly.

  "We've been having conversations off and on with the enemy for twoyears," he said. "We've had some mighty hot talks with bullets andcannon balls, and some not so hot with words. Just now we were havingone of the class labelled 'not so hot.'"

  "What's the matter with you Johnnies?" was called across. "You'vebroken off the talk just when it was getting interesting. Are you goingto back out on that bet? We thought you had better manners. We knowyou have."

  "You're right, we have," said St. Clair, shouting across the stream,"but we were interrupted by a man who hasn't."

  "Oh, is that so?" was called back. "If you've troubles of your own,we won't interfere. We'll just look on."

  Bertrand was pallid with rage.

  "I'm a captain in the Invincibles, Mr. St. Clair," he said, "and you'reonly a lieutenant. You'll return to your regiment at once and preparea written apology to me for the words that you've just used to thoseYankees."

  "Oh, no, I won't do either," drawled St. Clair purposely. "It is truethat a captain outranks a lieutenant, but you're a company commander andI'm a staff officer. I take no orders from you."

  "Nevertheless you have insulted me, and there is another and perhapsbetter way to settle it."

  He significantly touched the hilt of his sword.

  "Oh, if you mean a duel, it suits me well enough," said St. Clair,who was an expert with the sword.

  "Early to-morrow morning in the woods back of this point?"

  "Suits me."

  "Your seconds?"

  Then Harry jumped to his feet in a mighty wrath and indignation.

  "There won't be any duel! And there won't be any seconds!" he exclaimed.

  "Why not?" asked Bertrand, his face livid.

  "Because I won't allow it."

  "How can you help it?"

  "It's a piece of thunderation foolishness! Two good Southern soldierstrying to kill each other, when they've sworn to use all their effortskilling Yankees. It's a breach of faith and it's silliness on its ownaccount. You've received the hospitality of my father's house, CaptainBertrand, and he's helped you and been kind to you elsewhere. You oweme enough at least to listen to me. Unless I get the promise of you twoto drop this matter, I swear I'll go straight to General Jackson andtell all about it. He'll save you the trouble of shooting each other.He'll have you shot together. You needn't frown, either of you.It's not much fun breaking the rules of a Presbyterian elder who is alsoone of the greatest generals the world has ever seen."

  "You're talking sound sense, Harry," said Happy Tom, an unexpected ally."I've several objections to this duel myself. We'll need both of thesemen for the great battle with Hooker. Arthur would be sure to wear hisnew uniform, and a bullet hole through it would go far toward spoilingit. Besides, there's nothing to fight about. And if they did fight,I'd hate to see the survivor standing up be
fore one of Old Jack's firingsquads and then falling before it. You go to General Jackson, Harry,and I'll go along with you, seconding every word you say. Shut up,Arthur; if you open your mouth again I'll roll you and your new uniformin the mud down there. You know I can do it."

  "But such conduct would be unparalleled," said Bertrand.

  "I don't care a whoop if it is," said Harry, who had been taught by hisfather to look upon the duel as a wicked proceeding. "General Jacksonwouldn't tolerate such a thing, and in his command what he says is theTen Commandments. Isn't that so, Dalton?"

  "Undoubtedly, and you can depend upon me as a third to you and HappyTom."

  "Now, Captain," continued Harry soothingly, "just forget this, won'tyou? Both of you are from South Carolina and you ought to be goodfriends."

  "So far as I'm concerned, it's finished," said St. Clair.

  But Bertrand turned upon his heel without a word and walked away.

  "Hey, there, you Johnnies!" came a loud hail from the other side ofthe river. "What's the matter with your friend who's just gone away?I was watching with glasses, and he didn't look happy."

  "He had a nightmare and he hasn't fully recovered from it yet."

  There was a sudden tremendous burst of cheering behind them.

  "On your feet, boys!" exclaimed Happy Tom, glancing back. "Here comesOld Jack on one of his tours of inspection."

  Jackson was riding slowly along near the edge of the river. He couldnever appear without rolling cheers from the thirty thousand veterantroops who were eager to follow wherever he led. The mighty cheeringswept back and forth in volumes, and when a lull came, one among theirfriends, the Yankee pickets on the other side of the river, called atthe top of his voice:

  "Hey, Johnnies, what's the racket about?"

  "It's Stonewall Jackson!" Harry roared back, pointing to the figure onthe horse.

  Then, to the amazement of all, a sudden burst of cheering came from thefar bank of the Rappahannock, followed by the words, shouted in chorus:"Hurrah for Stonewall Jackson! Hurrah for Jackson!" Thus did thegallant Northern troops show their admiration for their great enemywhose genius had defeated them so often. Some riflemen among them lyingamong the bushes at the water's edge might have picked him off, but nosuch thought entered the mind of anyone.

  Jackson flushed at the compliment from the foe, but rode quietly on,until he disappeared among some woods on the left.

  "We'd better be going back to headquarters," said Harry to Dalton."It'll be wise for us to be there when the general arrives."

  "That's right, lazy little boys," said Happy Tom. "Wash your faces,run to school, and be all bright and clean when teacher comes."

  "It's what we mean to do," said Harry, "and if Arthur says anythingmore about this silly dueling business, send for us. We'll come back,and we three together will pound his foolish head so hard that he won'tbe able to think about anything at all for a year to come."

  "I'll behave," said St. Clair, "but you fellows look to Bertrand."

  Dalton and Harry walked to the headquarters of their general, who nowoccupied what had been a hunting lodge standing in the grounds of alarge mansion. The whole place, the property of an orderly in hisservice, had been offered to him, but he would only take the huntinglodge, saying that he would not clutter up so fine and large a house.

  Now Harry and Dalton walked across the lawn, which was beginning to turngreen, and paused for a little while under the budding boughs of thegreat trees. The general had not yet arrived, but the rolling cheersnever ceasing, but coming nearer, indicated that he would soon be athand.

  "A man must feel tremendous pride when his very appearance draws suchcheers from his men," said Harry.

  The lawn was not cut up by the feet of horses--Jackson would not allowit. Everything about the house and grounds was in the neatest order.Beside the hunting lodge stood a great tent, in which his staff messed.

  "Were you here the day General Jackson came to these quarters, Harry?"asked Dalton.

  "No, I was in service at the bank of the river, carrying some message orother. I've forgotten what it was."

  "Well, I was. We didn't know where we were going to stay, and a ladycame from the big house here down to the edge of the woods, where wewere still sitting on our horses. 'Is this General Jackson?' asked she.'It is, madame,' he replied, lifting his hat politely. 'My husband ownsthis house,' she said, pointing toward it, 'and we will feel honored andglad if you will occupy it as your headquarters while you are here.'He thanked her and said he'd ride forward with a cavalry orderly andinspect the place. The rest of us waited while he and the orderly rodeinto the grounds, the lady going on ahead.

  "The general wouldn't take the house. He said he didn't like to see sofine a place trodden up by young men in muddy military boots. Besides,he and his staff would disturb the inmates, and he didn't want that tohappen. At last he picked the hunting lodge, and as he and the orderlyrode back through the gate to the grounds, the orderly said: 'General,do you feel wholly pleased with what you have chosen?' 'It suits meentirely,' replied General Jackson. 'I'm going to make my headquartersin that hunting lodge.' 'I'm very glad of that, sir, very glad indeed.''Why?' asked General Jackson. 'Because it's my house,' replied theorderly, 'and my wife and I would have felt greatly disappointed if youhad gone elsewhere.'"

  "And so all this splendid place belongs to an orderly?" said Harry.

  "Funny you didn't hear that story," said Dalton. "Most of us have,but I suppose everybody took it for granted that you knew it. As yousay, that grand place belongs to one of our orderlies. After all,we're a citizen army, just as the great Roman armies when they wereat their greatest were citizen armies, too."

  "Ah, here comes the general now," said Harry, "and he looks embarrassed,as he always does after so much cheering. A stranger would think fromthe way he acts that he's the least conspicuous of our generals, and ifyou read the reports of his victories you'd think that he had less thananybody else to do with them."

  General Jackson, followed by an orderly, cantered up. The orderly tookthe horse and the general went into the house, followed by the two youngstaff officers. They knew that he was likely to plunge at once intowork, and were ready to do any service he needed.

  "I don't think I'll want you boys," said the general in his usual kindlytone, "at least not for some time. So you can go out and enjoy thesunshine and warmth, of which we have had so little for a long time."

  "Thank you, sir," said Harry, but he added hastily:

  "Here come some officers, sir."

  Jackson glanced through the window of the hunting lodge and caught sightof a waving plume, just as its wearer passed through the gate.

  "That's Stuart," he said, with an attempt at severity in his tone,although his smiling eye belied it. "I suppose I might as well defer mywork if Jeb Stuart is coming to see me. Stay with me, lads, and help meto entertain him. You know Stuart is nothing but a joyous boy--youngerthan either of you, although he is one of the greatest cavalry leadersof modern times."

  Harry and Dalton were more than willing to remain. Everybody was alwaysglad when Jeb Stuart came. Now he was in his finest mood, and he andthe two staff officers with him rode at a canter. They leaped fromtheir horses at Jackson's door, throwing the reins over their necks andleaving them to the orderly. Then they entered boldly, Stuart leading.He was the only man in the whole Southern army who took liberties withJackson, although his liberties were always of the inoffensive kind.

  If St. Clair was gorgeous in his new clothes, he would have been palebeside Stuart, who also had new raiment. A most magnificent featherlooped and draped about his gold-braided hat. His uniform, of thefinest cloth, was heavy with gold braid and gold epaulets, and the greatyellow silk sash about his waist supported his gold-hilted sword.

  "What new and splendid species of bird is this?" asked General Jackson,as Stuart and his men saluted. "I have never before seen such grandplumage."

  Stuart complacently
stroked the gold braid on his left sleeve andlooked about the hunting lodge, the walls of which had been decoratedaccordingly long since by its owner.

  "Splendid picture this of a race horse, General," he said, "and the oneof the trotter in action is almost as fine. Ah, sir, I knew there weregood sporting instincts in you and that they would come out in time.I approve of it myself, but what will the members of your church say,sir, when they hear of your moral decline?"

  Jackson actually blushed and remained silent under the chaff.

  "And here is a picture of a greyhound, and here of a terrier," continuedthe bold Stuart. "Oh, General, you're not only going in for racing,but for coursing dogs as well, and maybe fighting dogs, too! Throughoutthe South all the old ladies look up to you as our highest moralrepresentative. What will they think when they hear of these things?It would be worse than a great battle lost."

  "General Stuart," said Jackson, "I know more about race horses than youthink I do."

  He would add no more, but Harry had learned that, when quite a small boy,he had ridden horses in backwoods races for a sport-loving uncle.But Stuart continued his jests and Jackson secretly enjoyed them.The two men were so opposite in nature that they were complements andeach liked the society of the other.

  The two lads and the staff officers went outside presently, and the twogenerals were left together to talk business for a quarter of an hour.When Stuart emerged he glanced at Harry and Dalton and beckoned to them.When they came up he had mounted, but he leaned over, and pointing along finger in a buckskin glove in turn at each, he said:

  "Can you dance?"

  "Yes, sir," replied Harry.

  "And you, Sir Knight of the Sober Mien?"

  "I can try, sir," said Dalton.

  "But can you make it a good try?"

  "I can, sir."

  "That's the right spirit. Well, there's going to be a ball down atmy headquarters to-night; not a little, two-penny, half-penny affair,but a real ball, a grand ball. The bands of the Fifth Virginia and ofthe Acadians will be there to play, alternating. You're invited andyou're coming. I've already obtained leave from General Jackson for youboth. I wish the general himself would come, but he's just received atheological book that Dr. Graham at Winchester has sent him, and he'sbound to spend most of the night on that. Put on your best uniforms andbe there just after dark."

  Harry and Dalton accepted eagerly, and Stuart, a genuine knight of oldalike in his courage and love of adornment, rode out of the grounds.

  "There goes a man who certainly loves life," said Dalton.

  "And don't you love it, and don't I love it, Mr. Philosopher and Cynic?"said Harry.

  "So we do. But, as General Jackson said, General Stuart is a boy,younger than either of us."

  "I hope to be the same kind of a boy when I'm his age."

  Stuart was riding on, looking about with a luminous eye, fired bythe spirit within him and the great landscape spread out before him.It was a noble landscape, the wooded ranges stretching to right and left,with the long sweep of rolling country between. The somber ruins ofFredericksburg were hidden from view just then, but in front of himflowed the great Rappahannock, still black with floods and ice yetfloating near the banks.

  Stuart drew a deep breath. It was a beautiful part of Virginia, old andwith many fine manor houses scattered about. And the people, educated,polite, accustomed to everything, gladly sacrificed all they had for theConfederacy in its hour of need. They had cut up their rugs and carpetsand sent them to the great camp on the Rappahannock that the soldierswho had no blankets might use them. The cattle and poultry from therich farms were also sent to Lee's men. Virginia sacrificed herself forthe Confederate cause with a devotion that would have brought tears froma stone.

  Some such thoughts as these were in the mind of Stuart as he rode towardhis own camp. There was a mist for a few moments before the eyes of thegreat horseman, but as it cleared he became once more his natural self,the gayest of the gay. He hummed joyously as he rode along, and therefrain of his song was: "Old Joe Hooker, won't you come out of theWilderness?"

  Harry and Dalton had gone back to the big mess tent and were alreadyarraying themselves with the utmost care for Jeb Stuart's ball. Theirclothes were in good condition now. After the long rest they had beenable to brush and furbish up their best uniforms, until they were bothneat and bright. They had no thought of rivalling St. Clair, whoundoubtedly would be there, but they were satisfied--they never expectedto rival St. Clair in that respect. But they were splendid youths, fine,tall, upstanding, and with frank eyes and tanned faces.

  "Will many girls be there?" asked Dalton.

  "Of course. They'll come in from all the country around to be at JebStuart's ball. I wish we could invite a few of the Yankees over to seewhat girls we have in Virginia."

  "That would be fine, but Hooker wouldn't let 'em, and Lee and Jacksonwould certainly disapprove."

  Harry and Dalton started at twilight, and on their way they met CaptainSherburne, who was bound for the same place. The captain was prettyfond of good dress himself, and he, too, had a new uniform, perhaps notso bright as St. Clair's, but fine and vivid, nevertheless.

  "Well, well," said Harry, as he greeted him heartily. "You've got a lotof shine about you, but you just watch out for St. Clair. He's sureto be there, and he has a new uniform straight from Charleston. He'smaking the most of it, too. Now may be the time to settle thatsartorial rivalry between you."

  "All right," said Sherburne joyously. "I'm ready. Come on."

  The house, a large one standing in ample grounds, was already lighted asbrilliantly as time and circumstances afforded. It is true that mostof these lights were of home-made tallow candles, because no otherillumination was to be had, and they made a brave show to these soldierswho were used so long only to the light of their fires and the moon andstars.

  Before these lights people were passing and repassing, and the soundsof pleasant voices reached their ears. But they were stopped by fourfigures just emerging from the shadows. The four were Colonel LeonidasTalbot, just returned from Richmond, Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire,Lieutenant Arthur St. Clair, and Lieutenant Thomas Langdon, all arrayedwith great care and bearing themselves haughtily. Sherburne andSt. Clair cast quick glances at each other. But each remained content,because the taste of each was gratified.

  The meeting was most friendly. Harry and Dalton were very glad to seeColonel Talbot, whom they had missed very much, but Harry detected atonce a note of anxiety in the voice of each colonel.

  "Hector," said Colonel Talbot, "I shall certainly dance. What, goto Jeb Stuart's ball and not dance, when the fair and bright youngwomanhood of Virginia is present? And I a South Carolinian! Whatwould they think of my gallantry, Hector, if I did not?"

  "It is certainly fitting, Leonidas. I used to be a master myself ofall the steps, waltz and gavotte and the Virginia reel and the others.Once, when I was only twenty, I went to New Orleans to visit my cousins,the de Crespignys, and many of them there were, four brothers, withseven or eight children apiece, mostly girls; and 'pon my soul, Leonidas,for the two months I was gone I did little but dance. What else couldone do when he had about twenty girl cousins, all of dancing age?We danced in New Orleans and we danced out on the great plantation ofLouis de Crespigny, the oldest of the brothers, and all the neighborsfor miles around danced with us. There was one of my cousins, a thirdcousin only she was, Flora de Crespigny, just seventeen years of age,but a beautiful girl, Leonidas, a most beautiful girl--they ripen fastdown there. Once at the de Crespigny plantation I danced all day andall the night following, mostly with her. Young Gerard de Langeais,her betrothed, was furious with jealousy, and just after the dawn,neither of us having yet slept, we fought with swords behind the liveoaks. I was not in love with Flora and she was not in love with me,but de Langeais thought we were, and would not listen to my claim ofkinship.

  "I received a glorious little scratch on my left side and he suffered anequ
ally glorious little puncture in his right arm. The seconds declaredenough. Then we fell into the arms of each other and became friends forlife. A year later I went back to New Orleans, and I was the best manat the wedding of Gerard and Flora, one of the happiest and handsomestpairs I ever saw, God bless 'em. Their third son, Julien, is in aregiment in the command of Longstreet, and when I look at him I see bothhis father and his mother, at whose wedding I danced again for a wholeday and night. But now, Leonidas, I fear that my knees are growing alittle stiff, and think of our age, Leonidas!"

  "Age! age! Hector Lucien Philip Etienne St. Hilaire, how dare you talkof age! Your years are exactly the same as mine, and I can outride,outwalk, outdance, and, if need be, make love better than any of theseyoung cubs who are with us. I am astonished at you, Hector! Why,it's been only a few years since you and I were boys. We've scarcelyentered the prime of life, and we'll show 'em at Jeb Stuart's ball!"

  "That's so, Leonidas, and you do well to rebuke me," andLieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire puffed out his chest--he was, infact, a fine figure of a man. "We'll go to Jeb Stuart's ball, as yousay, and in the presence of the Virginia fair show everybody what realmen are."

  "And we'll be glad to see you do it, Colonel," said Sherburne.

  The dancing had not yet begun, but as they entered the grounds theAcadian band swung into the air of the Marseillaise, playing the grandold Revolutionary tune with all the spirit and fervor with whichFrenchmen must have first played and sung it. Then it swung intothe soul-stirring march of Dixie, and a wild shout, which was partlyfeminine, came from the house.

  The two colonels had walked on ahead, leaving the young officerstogether. Langdon caught sight of a figure standing before an open door,with a fire blazing in a large fireplace serving as a red background.That background was indeed so brilliant that every external detail ofthe figure could be seen. Langdon, stopping, pulled hard on the armsof Harry and Sherburne.

  "Halt all!" he said, "and tell me if in very truth I see what I see!"

  "Go on!" said St. Clair.

  "Item No. one, a pink dress of some gauzy, filmy stuff, with ruffleafter ruffle around the skirt."

  "Correct."

  "Item No. two, a pink slipper made of silk, perchance, with the toe ofit just showing beyond the hem of the skirt."

  "You observe well, my lord."

  "Item three, a fair and slim white hand, and a round and beautifulwrist."

  "Correct. Again thou observest well, Sir Launcelot."

  "Item four, a rosy young face which the firelight makes more rosy,and a crown of golden hair, which this same firelight turns to deepergold."

  "Correct, ye Squire of Fair Ladies; and now, lead on!"

  They entered the great house and found it already filled with officersand women, most of whom were young. The visitors had brought with themthe best supplies that the farms could furnish, turkeys, chickens, hams,late fruits well preserved, and, above all, that hero-worship with whichthey favored their champions. To these girls and their older sistersthe young officers who had taken part in so many great battles were likethe knights of old, splendid and invincible.

  There was no warning note in all that joyous scene, although a hostilearmy of one hundred and thirty-five thousand men and four hundred gunslay on the other side of the river which flowed almost at their feet.It seemed to Harry afterward that they danced in the very face of death,caring nothing for what the dawn might bring.

  Stuart was in great feather. In his finest apparel he was the very lifeand soul of the ball, and these people forgot for a while the desolationinto which war was turning their country. The Virginia band and theAcadians carried on an intense but friendly rivalry, playing with allthe spirit and vigor of men who were anxious to please. It was a joy toHarry when he was not dancing to watch them, especially the Acadians,whose faces glowed as the dancers and their own bodies swayed to themusic they were making.

  Harry and his comrades were very young, but youth matures rapidly in war,and they felt themselves men. In truth they had done the deeds ofmen for two years now, and they were treated as such by the others.Bertrand also was present, and while he cast a dark look or two atSt. Clair, he kept away from him.

  Bye and bye another young man, obviously of French blood, appeared.But he was not dark. He had light hair, blue eyes, and he was tall andslender. But the pure strain of his Gallic blood showed, nevertheless,as clearly as if he had been born in Northern France itself.Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire welcomed him with warmth andpride and introduced him to the lads, who at that moment were notdancing.

  "This is that young cousin of mine of whom I was speaking," he said."It is Julien de Langeais, son of that beautiful cousin, Flora deCrespigny, and of that gallant and noble man, Gerard de Langeais,with whom I fought the duel. I did not know that you would be here,Julien, and the surprise makes the pleasure all the greater."

  "I did not know myself, sir, until an hour ago, that I could come,"replied young de Langeais, "but it is a glorious sight, sir, and I'mtruly glad to be here."

  His eyes sparkled at the sight of the dancers and his feet beat timeto the music. Harry saw that here was one who was in love with life,a soul akin to that of Langdon, and he and his comrades liked him atonce and without reservations. Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire saw howthey received him and his splendid mustaches curled up with pleasure.

  "Go with them, Julien," he said, "and they will see that you enjoyyourself to the full. They are good boys. Meanwhile I have a dancewith that beautiful Mrs. Edgehill, and if I am not there, Leonidas,honorable and lofty-minded as he is, but weak where the ladies areconcerned, will insert himself into my place."

  "Go, sir. Do not delay on my account," said young de Langeais. "I'msure that I'll fare well here."

  Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire hurried away. Both he and Colonel Talbotwere fully maintaining their reputations as dancing men. St. Clairand Langdon had partners, and making apologies they left to join them.Harry and Dalton remained with de Langeais.

  "Colonel St. Hilaire said that you were with Longstreet," said Harry.

  "I am, or rather was. At least our regiment belongs with him, but whenhe was detached to meet the possible march on Richmond we were left withGeneral Lee, and I am glad of it."

  "The great operations are sure to be where Lee and Jackson are."

  They got along so well that in another hour they felt as if they hadknown de Langeais all their lives. The night lengthened. Refreshmentswere served at times, but the dancers took them in relays. The dancingin the ballroom never ceased, and Jeb Stuart nearly always led it.

  It was after midnight now and Harry and his new friend, de Langeais,throwing their military cloaks over their shoulders, walked out on oneof the porticos for air. Many people, black and white, had gathered asusual to watch the dancing.

  Harry glanced at them casually, and then he saw a large figure almostbehind the others. His intuition was sudden, but he had not the leastdoubt of its accuracy. He merely wondered why he had not looked for theman before.

  "Come with me a minute," he said to de Langeais, and they walked towardthe tree. But Shepard was gone, and Harry had expected that, too.He did not intend to hunt for him any further, because he was sure notto find him.

  The brilliant spirit of the ball suddenly departed from him, and as heand de Langeais went back toward the house it was the stern call of warthat came again. The deep boom of a cannon rolled from a point on theRappahannock, and Harry was not the only one who felt the chill of itsnote. The dancing stopped for a few moments. Then the gloom passedaway, and it was resumed in all its vigor.

  But Stuart came out on the porch and Harry and de Langeais halted,because they heard the hoofs of a galloping horse. The man who camewas in the dress of a civilian, and he brought a message.

 
Joseph A. Altsheler's Novels
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»The Shades of the Wilderness: A Story of Lee's Great Standby Joseph A. Altsheler
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»The Scouts of the Valleyby Joseph A. Altsheler
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