CHAPTER III. STONEWALL JACKSON'S MARCH
Harry took some orders to brigadiers and colonels. He saw thatconcentration was going on rapidly and he shared the belief of hiscomrades that the army would march in the morning. He felt a new impulseof ambition and energy. It continually occurred to him that while he wasdoing much he might do more. He saw how his leader worked, with rapidityand precision, and without excitement, and he strove to imitate him.
The influence of Jackson was rapidly growing stronger upon the mind ofthe brilliant, sensitive boy, so susceptible to splendor of both thoughtand action. The general, not yet great to the world, but great alreadyto those around him, dominated the mind of the boy. Harry was proud toserve him.
He saw that Jackson had taken no sleep, and he would take noneeither. Soon the question was forgotten, and he toiled all through theafternoon, glad to be at the heart of affairs so important.
Winchester was a sprightly little city, one of the best in the greatvalley, inhabited by cultivated people of old families, and Southern tothe core. Harry and his young comrades had found a good welcome there.They had been in many houses and they had made many friends. TheVirginians liked his bright face and manners. Now they could not failto see that some great movement was afoot, and more than once his newfriends asked him its nature, but he replied truthfully that he didnot know. In the throb of great action Winchester disappeared from histhoughts. Every faculty was bent upon the plans of Jackson, whateverthey might be.
The afternoon drew to a close and then the short winter twilight passedswiftly. The last night of the Old Year had come, and Harry was to enterat dawn upon one of the most vivid periods in the life of any boy thatever lived, a period paralleled perhaps only by that of the French ladswho followed the young Bonaparte into the plains of Italy. Harry withall his dreams, arising from the enormous impression made upon him byJackson, could not yet foresee what lay before him.
He was returning on foot from one of his shorter errands. He had riddenthroughout the afternoon, but the time came when he thought the horseought to rest, and with the coming of the twilight he had walked. Hewas not conscious of any weakness. His body, in a way, had become a meremechanism. It worked, because the will acted upon it like a spring, butit was detached, separate from his mind. He took no more interest in itthan he would in any other machine, which, when used up, could be castaside, and be replaced with a new one.
He glanced at the camp, stretching through the darkness. Much fewerfires were burning than usual, and the men, warned to sleep while theycould, had wrapped themselves already in their blankets. Then he enteredthe tent of Jackson with the reply to an order that he had taken to abrigadier.
The general stood by a wall of the tent, dictating to an aide who sat atthe little table, and who wrote by the light of a small oil lamp.Harry saluted and gave him the reply. Jackson read it. As he read Harrystaggered but recovered himself quickly. The overtaxed body was making aviolent protest, and the vague feeling that he could throw away theold and used-up machine, and replace it with a new one was not true. Hecaught his breath sharply and his face was red with shame. He hoped thathis general had not seen this lamentable weakness of his.
Jackson, after reading the reply, resumed his dictation. Harry was surethat the general had not seen. He had not noticed the weakness in anaide of his who should have no weakness at all! But Jackson had seen andin a few hours of contact he had read the brave, bright young soul ofhis aide. He finished the dictation and then turning to Harry, he saidquietly:
"I can't think of anything more for you to do, Mr. Kenton, and I supposeyou might as well rest. I shall do so myself in a half hour. You'll findblankets in the large tent just beyond mine. A half dozen of my aidessleep in it, but there are blankets enough for all and it's first comefirst served."
Harry gave the usual military salute and withdrew. Outside the tent, thebody that he had used so cruelly protested not only a second timebut many times. It was in very fact and truth detached from the will,because it no longer obeyed the will at all. His legs wobbled andbent like those of a paralytic, and his head fell forward through veryweakness.
Luckily the tent was only a few yards away, and he managed to reach itand enter. It had a floor of planks and in the dark he saw three youths,a little older than himself, already sound asleep in their blankets.He promptly rolled himself in a pair, stretched his length against thecloth wall, and balmy sleep quickly came to make a complete reunionof the will and of the tired body which would be fresh again in themorning, because he was young and strong and recovered fast.
Harry slept hard all through the night and nature completed her taskof restoring the worn fibers. He was roused shortly after dawn and thecooks were ready with breakfast for the army. He ate hungrily and whenhe would stop, one of his comrades who had slept with him in the tenttold him to eat more.
"You need a lot to go on when you march with Jackson," he said."Besides, you won't be certain where the next is coming from."
"I've learned that already," said Harry, as he took his advice.
A half hour later he was on his horse near Jackson, ready to receive hiscommands, and in the early hours of the New Year the army marched out ofWinchester, the eager wishes of the whole population following it.
It was the brightest of winter mornings, almost like spring it seemed.The sky was a curving and solid sheet of sunlight, and the youths of thearmy were for the moment a great and happy family. They were marchingto battle, wounds and death, but they were too young and too buoyant tothink much about it.
Harry soon learned that they were going toward Bath and Hancock, twovillages on the railway, both held by Northern troops. He surmised thatJackson would strike a sudden blow, surprise the garrisons, cut therailway, and then rush suddenly upon some greater force. A campaignin the middle of winter. It appealed to him as something brilliant anddaring. The pulses which had beat hard so often lately began to beathard again.
The army went swiftly across forest and fields. As the brigade hadmarched back the night before, so the whole army marched forward to-day.The fact that Jackson's men always marched faster than other men wasforced again upon Harry's attention. He remembered from his reading anold comment of Napoleon's referring to war that there were only two orthree men in Europe who knew the value of time. Now he saw that at leastone man in America knew its value, and knew it as fully as Napoleon everdid.
The day passed hour by hour and the army sped on, making only a shorthalt at noon for rest and food. Harry joined the Invincibles for afew moments and was received with warmth by Colonel Leonidas Talbot,Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire and all his old friends.
"I am sorry to lose you, Harry," said Colonel Talbot, "but I am gladthat you are on the immediate staff of General Jackson. It's an honor. Ifeel already that we're in the hands of a great general, and the feelinghas gone through the whole army. There's an end, so far as this force isconcerned, to doubt and hesitation."
"And we, the Southerners who are called the cavaliers, are led by apuritan," said Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire. "Because if there everwas a puritan, General Jackson is one."
Harry passed on, intending to speak with his comrades, Langdon andSt. Clair. He heard the young troops talking freely everywhere, neverforgetting the fact that they were born free citizens as good asanybody, and never hesitating to comment, often in an unflattering way,upon their officers. Harry saw a boy who had just taken off his shoesand who was tenderly rubbing his feet.
"I never marched so fast before," he said complainingly. "My feet aresore all over."
"Put on your shoes an' shut up," said another boy. "Stonewall Jacksondon't care nothin' about your feet. You're here to fight."
Harry walked on, but the words sank deep in his mind. It was anuneducated boy, probably from the hills, who had given the rebuke, buthe saw that the character of Stonewall Jackson was already understood bythe whole army, even to the youngest private. He found Langdon andSt. Clair sitting together on a log. They were
not tired, as they weremounted officers, but they were full of curiosity.
"What's passing through Old Jack's head?" asked Langdon, the irreverentand the cheerful.
"I don't know, and I don't suppose anybody will ever know all that'spassing there."
"I'll wager my year's pay against a last year's bird nest that he isn'tleading us away from the enemy."
"He certainly isn't doing that. We're moving on two little towns, Bathand Hancock, but there must be bigger designs beyond."
"This is New Year's Day, as you know," said St. Clair in his pleasantSouth Carolina drawl, "and I feel that Tom there is going to earn theyear's pay that he talks so glibly about wagering."
"At any rate, Arthur," said Langdon, "if we go into battle you'll bedressed properly for it, and if you fall you'll die in a gentleman'suniform."
St. Clair smiled, showing that he appreciated Langdon's flippantcomment. Harry glanced at him. His uniform was spotless, and it waspressed as neatly as if it had just come from the hands of a tailor. Thegray jacket of fine cloth, with its rows of polished brass buttons, wasbuttoned as closely as that of a West Point cadet. He seemed to be indress and manner a younger brother of the gallant Virginia captain,Philip Sherburne, and Harry admired him. A soldier who dressed well amidsuch trying obstacles was likely to be a soldier through and through.Harry was learning to read character from extraneous things, things thatsometimes looked like trifles to others.
"I merely came over here to pass the time of day," he said. "We startagain in two or three minutes. Hark, there go the bugles, and I go withthem!"
He ran back, sprang on his horse a few seconds before Jackson himselfwas in the saddle, and rode away again.
The general sent him on no missions for a while, and Harry rode insilence. Observant, as always, he noticed the long ridges of themountains, showing blue in the distance, and the occasional glimmerof water in the valley. It was beautiful, this valley, and he did notwonder that the Virginians talked of it so much. He shared their wrathbecause the hostile Northern foot already pressed a portion, and he feltas much eagerness as they to drive away the invader.
He also saw pretty soon that the long lines of the mountains, so blueand beautiful against the shining sun, were losing their clear and vividtints. The sky above them was turning to gray, and their crests weregrowing pale. Then a wind chill and sharp with the edge of winter beganto blow down from the slopes. It had been merely playing at summer thatmorning and, before the first day of January 1862, closed, winter rusheddown upon Virginia, bringing with it the fiercest and most sanguinaryyear the New World ever knew--save the one that followed it, and the onethat followed that.
The temperature dropped many degrees in an hour. Just as the youngtroops of Grant, marching to Donelson, deceived by a warm morning hadcast aside their heavy clothing to be chilled to the bone before theday was over, so the equally young troops of Jackson now suffered in thesame way, and from the same lack of thought.
Most of their overcoats and cloaks were in the wagons, and there wasno time to get them, because Jackson would not permit any delays. Theyshivered and grumbled under their breath. Nevertheless the army marchedswiftly, while the dark clouds, laden with snow and cold, marched upwith equal swiftness from the western horizon.
A winter campaign! It did not seem so glorious now to many of the boyswho in the warmth and the sunshine had throbbed with the thought of it.They inquired once more about those wagons containing their overcoatsand blankets, and they learned that they had followed easier roads,while the troops themselves were taking short cuts through the forestsand across the fields. They might be reunited at night, and they mightnot. It was not considered a matter of the first importance by Jackson.
Harry had been wise enough to retain his military cloak strapped to hissaddle, and he wrapped it about his body, drawing the collar as highas he could. One of his gauntleted hands held the reins, and the otherswung easily by his side. He would have given his cloak to some oneof the shivering youths who marched on foot near him, but he knew thatJackson would not permit any such open breach of discipline.
The boy watched the leader who rode almost by his side. Jackson had puton his own cavalry cloak, but it was fastened by a single button atthe top and it had blown open. He did not seem to notice the fact.Apparently he was oblivious of heat and cold alike, and rode on, bent alittle forward in the saddle, his face the usual impenetrable mask. ButHarry knew that the brain behind that brow never ceased to work, alwaysthinking and planning, trying this combination and that, ready to makeany sacrifice to do the work that was to be done.
The long shadows came, and the short day that had turned so cold wasover, giving way to the night that was colder than the day. They wereon the hills now and even the vigorous Jackson felt that it was time tostop until morning. The night had turned very dark, a fierce wind wasblowing, and now and then a fine sift of snow as sharp as hail was blownagainst their faces.
The wagons with the heavy clothing, blankets and food had not come up,and perhaps would not arrive until the next day. Gloom as dark as thenight itself began to spread among the young troops, but Jackson gavethem little time for bemoaning their fate. Fires were quickly builtfrom fallen wood. The men found warmth and a certain mental relief ingathering the wood itself. The officers, many of them boys themselves,shared in the work. They roamed through the forest dragging in fallentimber, and now and then, an old rail fence was taken panel by panel tojoin the general heap.
The fires presently began to crackle in the darkness, running in long,irregular lines, and the young soldiers crowded in groups about them.At the same time they ate the scanty rations they carried in theirknapsacks, and wondered what had become of the wagons. Jackson sentdetachments to seek his supply trains, but Harry knew that he would notwait for it in the morning. The horses drawing the heavy loads over theslippery roads would need rest as badly as the men, and Jackson wouldgo on. If food was not there--well then his troops must march on emptystomachs.
Youth changes swiftly and the high spirits with which the soldiers haddeparted in the morning were gone. The night had become extremely cold.Fierce winds whistled down from the crests of the mountains and piercedtheir clothing with myriads of little icy darts. They crept closer andcloser to the fire. Their faces burned while their backs froze, andthe menacing wind, while it chilled them to the marrow with its breath,seemed to laugh at them in sinister fashion. They thought with many alament of their warm quarters in Winchester.
Harry shared the common depression to a certain extent. He had recalledthat morning how the young Napoleon started on his great campaignof Italy, and there had been in his mind some idea that it would berepeated in the Virginia valleys, but he recalled at night that thesoldiers of the youthful Bonaparte had marched and fought in warmdays in a sunny country. It was a different thing to conduct a greatcampaign, when the clouds heavy with snow were hovering around themountain tops, and the mercury was hunting zero. He shivered and lookedapprehensively into the chilly night. His apprehension was not for ahuman foe, but for the unbroken spirits of darkness and mystery that cancow us all.
No tents were pitched. Jackson shared the common lot, sitting by a firewith some of the higher officers, while three or four other young aideswere near. The sifts of snow turned after a while into a fine but steadysnow, which continued half an hour. The backs of the soldiers werecovered with white, while their faces burned. Then there was a shufflingsound at every fire, as the men turned their backs to the blaze andtheir faces to the forest.
Harry watched General Jackson closely. He was sitting on a fallen log,which the soldiers had drawn near to one of the largest fires, and hewas staring intently into the coals. He did not speak, nor did he seemto take any notice of those about him. Harry knew, too, that he was notseeing the coals, but the armies of the enemy on the other side of thecold mountain.
Jackson after a while beckoned to the young aides and he gave to everyone in turn the same command.
"Mount and make a comple
te circuit of the army. Report to me whetherall the pickets are watchful, and whether any signs of the enemy can beseen."
Harry had tethered his horse in a little grove near by, where he mightbe sheltered as much as possible from the cold, and the faithful animalwhich had not tasted food that day, whimpered and rubbed his noseagainst his shoulder when he came.
"I'm sorry, old boy," whispered Harry, "I'd give you food if I could,but since I can't give you food I've got to give you more work."
He put on the bridle, leaped into the saddle, which had been left on thehorse's back, and rode away on his mission. The password that nightwas "Manassas," and Harry exchanged it with the pickets who curved in agreat circle through the lone, cold forest. They were always glad to seehim. They were alone, save when two of them met at the common end of abeat, and these youths of the South were friendly, liking to talk and tohear the news of others.
Toward the Northern segment of the circle he came to a young giantfrom the hills who was walking back and forth with the utmost vigorand shaking himself as if he would throw off the cold. His brown facebrightened with pleasure when he saw Harry and exchanged the password.
"Two or three other officers have been by here ridin' hosses," he saidin the voice of an equal speaking to his equal, "an' they don't fillme plum' full o' envy a-tall, a-tall. I guess a feller tonight kin keepwarmer walkin' on the ground than ridin' on a hoss. What might your namebe, Mr. Officer?"
"Kenton. I'm a lieutenant, at present on the staff of General Jackson.What is yours?"
"Seth Moore, an' I'm always a private, but at present doin' sentinelduty, but wishin' I was at home in our double log house 'tween theblankets."
"Have you noticed anything, Seth?" asked Harry, not at all offended bythe nature of his reply.
"I've seen some snow, an' now an' then the cold top of a mountain,an'--"
"An' what, Seth?"
"Do you see that grove straight toward the north four or five hundredyards away?"
"Yes, but I can make nothing of it but a black blur. It's too far awayto tell the trunks of the trees apart."
"It's too fur fur me, too, an' my eyes are good, but ten or fifteenminutes ago, leftenant, I thought I saw a shadder at the edge of thegrove. It 'peared to me that the shadder was like that of a horse witha man on it. After a while it went back among the trees an' o' course Ilost it thar."
"You feel quite sure you saw the shadow, Seth?"
"Yes, leftenant. I'm shore I ain't mistook. I've hunted 'coons an''possums at night too much to be mistook about shadders. I reckon, if Imay say so, shadders is my specialty, me bein' somethin' o' a night owl.As shore as I'm standin' here, leftenant, and as shore as you're settin'there on your hoss, a mounted man come to the edge of that wood an'stayed thar a while, watchin' us. I'd have follered him, but I couldn'tleave my beat here, an' you're the first officer I've saw since. It mayamount to nothin, an' then again it mayn't."
"I'm glad you told me. I'll go into the grove myself and see if anybodyis there now."
"Leftenant, if I was you I'd be mighty keerful. If it's a spy it'll beeasy enough for him under the cover of the trees to shoot you in theopen comin' toward him."
Harry knew that Jackson planned a surprise of some kind and Seth Moore'swords about the mounted man alarmed him. He did not doubt the accuracyof the young mountaineer's eyesight, or his coolness, and he resolvedthat he would not go back to headquarters until he knew more about that"shadow." But Moore's advice about caution was not to be unheeded.
"If you keep in the edge of our woods here," said Moore, "an' ride alonga piece you'll come to a little valley. Then you kin go up that an' comeinto the grove over thar without being seed."
"Good advice. I'll take it."
Harry loosened one of the pistols in his belt and rode cautiouslythrough the wood as Seth Moore had suggested. The ground sloped rapidly,and soon he reached the narrow but deep little valley with a densegrowth of trees and underbrush on either side. The valley led upward,and he came into the grove just as Moore had predicted.
This forest was of much wider extent than he had supposed. It stretchednorthward further than he could see, and, although it was devoid ofundergrowth, it was very dark among the trees. He rode his horse behindthe trunk of a great oak, and, pausing there, examined all the forestwithin eyeshot.
He saw nothing but the long rows of tree trunks, white on the northernside with snow, and he heard nothing but the cold rustle of wind amongboughs bare of branches. Yet he had full confidence in the words ofSeth Moore. He could neither see him nor hear him, but he was sure thatsomebody besides himself was in the wood. Once more the soul and spiritof his great ancestor were poured into him, and for the moment he, too,was the wilderness rover, endowed with nerves preternaturally acute.
Hidden by the great tree trunks he listened attentively. His horse,oppressed by the cold and perhaps by the weariness of the day, wasmotionless and made no sound. He waited two or three minutes and then hewas sure that he heard a slight noise, which he believed was made by thehoofs of a horse walking very slowly. Then he saw the shadow.
It was the dim figure of a man on horseback, moving very cautiously atsome distance from Harry. He urged his own horse forward a little, andthe shadow stopped instantly. Then he knew that he had been seen, and hesat motionless in the saddle for an instant or two, not knowing what todo.
After all, the man on horseback might be a friend. He might be somescout from a band of rangers, coming to join Jackson; and not yet surethat the army in the woods was his. Recovering from his indecision herode forward a little and called:
"Who are you?"
The shadow made no reply, and horse and rider were motionless. Theyseemed for an instant to be phantoms, but then Harry knew that they werereal. He was oppressed by a feeling of the weird and menacing. He wouldmake the sinister figure move and his hand dropped toward his pistolbelt.
"Stop, I can fire before you!" cried the figure sharply, and then Harrysuddenly saw a pistol barrel gleaming across the stranger's saddle bow.
Harry checked his hand, but he did not consider himself beaten by anymeans. He merely waited, wary and ready to seize his opportunity.
"I don't want to shoot," said the man in a clear voice, "and I won'tunless you make me. I'm no friend. I'm an enemy, that is, an officialenemy, and I think it strange, Harry Kenton, almost the hand of fate,that you and I come face to face again under such circumstances."
Harry stared, and then the light broke. Now he remembered both the voiceand the figure.
"Shepard!" he exclaimed.
"It's so. We're engaged upon the same duty. I've just been inspectingthe army of General Jackson, calculating its numbers, its equipment, andwhat it may do. Keep your hand away from that pistol. I might not hityou, but the chances are that I would. But as I said, I don't want toshoot. It wouldn't help our cause or me any to maim or kill you. Supposewe call it peace between us for this evening."
"I agree to call it peace because I have to do it."
Shepard laughed, and his laugh was not at all sarcastic or unpleasant.
"Why a rage to kill?" he said. "You and I, Harry Kenton, will findbefore this war is over that we'll get quite enough of fighting inbattles without seeking to make slaughter in between. Besides, havingmet you several times, I've a friendly feeling for you. Now turn andride back to your own lines and I'll go the other way."
The blood sprang into Harry's face and his heart beat hard. There wassomething dominating and powerful in the voice. It now had the tone of aman who spoke to one over whom he ruled. Yet he could do nothing. He sawthat Shepard was alert and watchful. He felt instinctively that his foewould fire if he were forced to do so and that he would not miss. Thendespite himself, he felt admiration for the man's skill and power, and apronounced intellectual quality that he discovered in him.
"Very well," he replied, "I'll turn and go back, but I want to tell you,Mr. Shepard, that while you have been estimating what General Jackson'sarmy can do you must make th
at estimate high."
"I've already done so," called Shepard--Harry was riding away as hespoke. The boy at the edge of the wood looked back, but the shadow wasalready gone. He rode straight across the open and Seth Moore met him.
"Did you find anything?" the young mountaineer asked.
"Yes, there was a mounted man in a blue uniform, a spy, who has beenwatching, but he made off. You had good eyes, Seth, and I'm going toreport this at once to General Jackson."
Harry knew that he was the bearer of an unpleasant message. GeneralJackson was relying upon surprise, and it would not please him to knowthat his movements were watched by an active and intelligent scout orspy. But the man had already shown his greatness by always insistingupon hearing the worst of everything.
He found the chief, still sitting before one of the fires and reportedto him fully. Jackson listened without comment, but at the end he saidto two of the brigadiers who were sitting with him:
"We march again at earliest dawn. We will not wait for the wagons."
Then he added to Harry:
"You've done good service. Join the sleepers, there."
He pointed to a group of young officers rolled in their blankets, andHarry obeyed quickly.