The Scouts of Stonewall: The Story of the Great Valley Campaign
CHAPTER VII. ON THE RIDGES
As they rode in the shadow of the Massanuttons Harry continuedto wonder. The whole campaign in the valley had become to him aninterminable maze. Stonewall Jackson might know what he intended to do,but he was not telling. Meanwhile they marched back and forth. There wasincessant skirmishing between cavalry and pickets, but it did not seemto signify anything. Banks, sure of his overwhelming numbers, pressedforward, but always cautiously and slowly. He did not march into anytrap. And Harry surmised that Jackson, much too weak to attack, wasplaying for time.
Sherburne and his troop paused at the very base of the Massanuttonsand Harry, who happened to be with them, looked up again at the loftysummits standing out so boldly and majestically in the middle of thevalley. The oaks and maples along their slopes were now blossoming intoa green that matched the tint of the pines, but far up on the creststhere was still a line of snow, and white mists beyond.
"Why not climb the highest summit?" he said to Sherburne. "You havepowerful glasses and we could get a good view of what is going on up thevalley."
"Most of those slopes are not slopes at all. They're perpendicular likethe side of a house. The horses could never get up."
"But they can certainly go part of the way, and some of us can climb therest on foot."
Sherburne's eyes sparkled. The spirit of adventure was strong withinhim. Moreover the task, if done, was worth while.
"Good for you, Harry," he exclaimed. "We'll try it! What do you say, St.Clair, you and Langdon?"
"I follow where you lead, and I hope that you lead to the top of themountain," replied St. Clair.
"Likely it's cold up there," said Langdon, "but there are higher andcolder mountains and I choose this one."
They had learned promptness and decision from Stonewall Jackson, andSherburne at once gave the order to ascend. Several men in his troopwere natives of that part of the valley, and they knew the Massanuttonswell. They led and the whole troop composed of youths followed eagerly.Bye and bye they dismounted and led their horses over the trails whichgrew slippery with wet and snow as they rose higher.
When they paused at times to rest they would all look northward overthe great valley, where a magnificent panorama had gradually risen intoview. They saw a vast stretch of fields turning green, neat villages,dark belts of forest, the gleam of brooks and creeks, and now and then,the glitter from a Northern bayonet.
At length the chief guide, a youth named Wallace, announced that thehorses could go no farther. Even in summer when the snow was all goneand the earth was dry they could not find a footing. Now it was certaindeath for them to try the icy steeps.
Sherburne ordered the main body of the troop to halt in a forested andsheltered glen in the side of the mountain, and, choosing Harry, St.Clair, Langdon, the guide Wallace, and six others, he advanced with themon foot. It was difficult climbing, and more than once they were bruisedby falls, but they learned to regard such accidents as trifles, andardent of spirit they pressed forward.
"I think we'll get a good view," said Sherburne. "See how brilliantlythe sun is shining in the valley."
"Yes, and the mists on the crests are clearing away," said Harry.
"Then with the aid of the glasses we can get a sweep up the valley formany miles. Now boys, here we go! up! up!"
If it had not been for the bushes they could never have made the ascent,as they were now in the region of snow and ice and the slopes were likeglass. Often they were compelled to crawl, and it was necessary, too, toexercise a good deal of care in crawling.
St. Clair groaned as he rose after climbing a rock, and brushed theknees of his fine gray trousers.
"Cheer up, Arthur," said Langdon, "it could have been worse. The sharpstones there might have cut holes through them."
But in spite of every difficulty and danger they went steadily towardthe summit, and streamers of mist yet floating about the mountain oftenenclosed them in a damp shroud. Obviously, however, the clouds andvapors were thinning, and soon the last shred would float away.
"It ain't more'n a hundred feet more to the top," said Wallace, "an'it's shore that the sun will be shinin' there."
"Shining for us, of course," said Langdon. "It's a good omen."
"I wish I could always look for the best as you do, Tom," said St.Clair.
"I'm glad I can. Gay hearts are better than riches. As sure as I climb,Arthur, I see the top."
"Yes, there it is, the nice snowy bump above us."
They dragged themselves upon the loftiest crest, and, panting, stoodthere for a few minutes in several inches of snow. Then the wind caughtup the last shreds and tatters of mist, and whipped them away southward.Every one of them drew a deep, sharp breath, as the great panorama ofthe valley to the northward and far below was unrolled before them.
The brilliant sunshine of early spring played over everything, but fardown in the valley they seemed to see by contrast the true summer of thesunny south, which is often far from sunny. But seen from the top ofthe mountain the valley was full of golden rays. Now the roofs of thevillages showed plainly and they saw with distinctness the long silverlines that marked the flowing of the rivers and creeks. To the east andto the west further than the eye could reach rose the long line of dimblue mountains that enclosed the valley.
But it was the glitter of the bayonets in the valley that caused thehearts of the Virginians to beat most fiercely. Banners and guidons,clusters of white tents, and dark swarms of men marked where the footof the invading stranger trod their soil. The Virginians loved the greatvalley. Enclosed between the blue mountains it was the richest and mostbeautiful part of all their state. It hurt them terribly to see theoverwhelming forces of the North occupying its towns and villages andencamped in its fields.
Harry, not a Virginian himself, but a brother by association, understoodand shared their feeling. He saw Sherburne's lips moving and he knewthat he was saying hard words between his teeth. But Sherburne's eyeswere at the glasses, and he looked a long time, moving them slowly fromside to side. After a while he handed them to Harry.
The boy raised the glasses and the great panorama of the valley sprangup to his eyes. It seemed to him that he could almost count the soldiersin the camps. There was a troop of cavalry riding to the southward,and further to the left was another. Directly to the north was theirbattlefield of Kernstown, and not far beyond it lay Winchester. He sawsuch masses of the enemy's troops and so many signs of activity amongthem that he felt some movement must be impending.
"What do you think of it, Harry?" said Sherburne.
"Banks must be getting ready to move forward."
"I think so, too. I wish we had his numbers."
"More men are coming for us. We'll have Ewell's corps soon, and GeneralJackson himself is worth ten thousand men."
"That's so, Harry, but ten thousand men are far too few. McDowell'swhole corps is available, and with it the Yankees can now turn more thanseventy thousand men into the valley."
"And they can fight, too, as we saw at Kernstown," said St. Clair.
"That's so, and I'm thinking they'll get their stomachs full of itpretty soon," said Langdon. "Yesterday about dusk I went out in somebushes after firewood, and I saw a man kneeling. It struck me ascurious, and I went up closer. What do you think? It was Old Jackpraying. Not any mock prayer, but praying to his Lord with all his heartand soul. I'm not much on praying myself, but I felt pretty solemn then,and I slid away from there as quick and quiet as you please. And Itell you, fellows, that when Stonewall Jackson prays it's time for theYankees to weep."
"You're probably right, Langdon," said Captain Sherburne, "but it'stime for us to be going back, and we'll tell what we've seen to GeneralJackson."
As they turned away a crunching in the snow on the other slope causedthem to stop. The faces of men and then their figures appeared throughthe bushes. They were eight or ten in number and all wore blue uniforms.Harry saw the leader, and instantly he recognized Shepard. It came tohim, too, in a
flash of prescience, that Shepard was just the man whomhe would meet there.
Sherburne, who had seen the blue uniforms, raised a pistol and fired.Two shots were fired by the Union men at the same instant, and then bothparties dropped back from the crest, each on its own side.
Sherburne's men were untouched and Harry was confident that Shepard'shad been equally lucky--the shots had been too hasty--but it was nervousand uncomfortable work, lying there in the snow, and waiting for thehead of an enemy to appear over the crest.
Harry was near Captain Sherburne, and he whispered to him:
"I know the man whose face appeared first through the bushes."
"Who is he?"
"His name is Shepard. He's a spy and scout for the North, and he isbrave and dangerous. He was in Montgomery when President Davis wasinaugurated. I saw him in Washington when I was there as a spy myself. Isaw him again in Winchester just before the battle of Kernstown, and nowhere he is once more."
"Must be a Wandering Jew sort of a fellow."
"He wanders with purpose. He has certainly come up here to spy us out."
"In which he is no more guilty than we are."
"That's true, but what are we going to do about it, captain?"
"Blessed if I know. Wait till I take a look."
Captain Sherburne raised himself a little, in order to peep over thecrest of the ridge. A rifle cracked on the other side, a bulletclipped the top of his cap, and he dropped back in the snow, unhurt butstartled.
"This man, Shepard, is fully as dangerous as you claim him to be," hesaid to Harry.
"Can you see anything of them?" asked St. Clair.
"Not a thing," said Harry.
"If we show they shoot, and if they show we shoot," said Langdon. "Seemsto me it's about the most beautiful case of checkmate that I've known."
"Perhaps we can stalk them," said St. Clair.
"And perhaps they can stalk us," said Langdon. "But I think both sidesare afraid to try it."
"You're right, Langdon," said Captain Sherburne, "It's a case ofcheckmate. I confess that I don't know what to do."
"We could wait here while they waited too, and if we waited long enoughit would get so dark we couldn't see each other. But captain, you are akind-hearted and sympathetic man, do you see any fun in sitting in thesnow on top of a mountain, waiting to kill men whom you don't want tokill or to be killed by men who don't want to kill you?"
"No, Tom, I don't," replied Captain Sherburne with a laugh, "and you'retalking mighty sound sense. This is not like a regular battle. We'venothing to gain by shooting those men, and they've nothing to gain byshooting us. The Massanuttons extend a long distance and there's nothingto keep scouts and spies from climbing them at other places. We'll goaway from here."
He gave the order. They rose and crept as softly as they could throughthe snow and bushes down the side of the mountain. Harry looked backoccasionally, but he saw no faces appear on the crest. Soon he heardLangdon who was beside him laughing softly to himself.
"What's the matter, Tom?" he asked.
"Harry, if I could take my pistol and shoot straight through thismountain the bullet when it came out on the other side would hit asoldier in blue clothes, going at the same rate of speed down themountain."
"More than likely you're right, Tom, if they're sensible, and that manShepard certainly is."
Further down they met some of their own men climbing up. The troop hadheard the shots and was on the way to rescue, if rescue were needed.Captain Sherburne explained briefly and they continued the descent,leading their horses all the way, and breathing deep relief, when theystood at last in the plain.
"I'll remember that climb," said Langdon to Harry as he sprang intothe saddle, "and I won't do it again when there's snow up there, unlessGeneral Jackson himself forces me up with the point of a bayonet."
"The view was fine."
"So it was, but the shooting was bad. Not a Yank, not a Reb fell, andI'm not unhappy over it. A curious thing has happened to me, Harry.While I'm ready to fight the Yankee at the drop of the hat I don't seemto hate 'em as much as I did when the war began."
"Same here. The war ought not to have happened, but we're in it, and tomy way of thinking we're going to be in it mighty deep and long."
Langdon was silent for a little while, but nothing could depress himlong. He was soon chattering away as merrily as ever while the trooprode back to General Jackson. Harry regarded him with some envy. Atemperament that could rejoice under any circumstances was truly worthhaving.
Sherburne reported to Ashby who in return sent him to the commander,Harry going with him to resume his place on the staff. Jackson heard thereport without comment and his face expressed nothing. Harry could notsee that he had changed much since he had come to join him. A littlethinner, a little more worn, perhaps, but he was the same quiet,self-contained man, whose blue eyes often looked over and beyond the oneto whom he was talking, as if he were maturing plans far ahead.
Harry occupied a tent for the time with two or three other youngofficers, and being permitted a few hours off duty he visitedhis friends of the Invincibles, Colonel Leonidas Talbot andLieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire. The two old comrades already hadheard the results of the scout from St. Clair and Langdon, but they gaveHarry a welcome because they liked him. They also gave him a camp stool,no small luxury in an army that marches and fights hard, using moregunpowder than anything else.
Harry put the stool against a tree, sat on it and leaned back againstthe trunk, feeling a great sense of luxury. The two men regarded himwith a benevolent eye. They, too, were enjoying luxuries, cigars whicha cavalry detail had captured from the enemy. It struck Harry at themoment that although one was of British descent and the other of Frenchthey were very much alike. South Carolina had bred them and then WestPoint had cast them in her unbreakable mold. Neat, precise, they satrigidly erect, and smoked their cigars.
"Do you like it on the staff of General Jackson, Harry," asked ColonelTalbot.
"I felt regrets at leaving the Invincibles," replied Harry truthfully,"but I like it. I think it a privilege to be so near to GeneralJackson."
"A leader who has fought only one battle in independent command and wholost that," said Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire, thoughtfully--heknew that Harry would repeat nothing, "and who nevertheless has theutmost confidence of his men. He does not joke with them as the youngNapoleon did with his soldiers. He has none of the quality that we callmagnetic charm, and yet his troops are eager to follow him anywhere. Hehas won no victories, but his men believe him capable of many. He takesnone of his officers into his confidence, but all have it. Incredible,but true. Why is it?"
He put his cigar back in his mouth and puffed meditatively. ColonelLeonidas Talbot, who also had been puffing meditatively whileLieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire was speaking, now took his cigarfrom his mouth, blew away the delicate rings of smoke, and said in anequally thoughtful tone:
"It occurs to me, Hector, that it is the power of intellect. StonewallJackson has impressed the whole army down to the last and least littledrummer with a sense of his mental force. I tell you, sir, that he isa thinker, and thinkers are rare, much more rare than people generallybelieve. There is only one man out of ten thousand who does not actwholly according to precedent and experience. Habit is so powerful thatwhen we think we are thinking we are not thinking at all, we are merelyrecalling the experiences of ourselves or somebody else. And of therare individuals who leave the well-trod paths of thought to think newthoughts, only a minutely small percentage think right. This minutelysmall fraction represents genius, the one man in a million or rather tenmillion, or, to be more accurate, the one man in a hundred million."
Colonel Leonidas Talbot put the cigar back in his mouth and puffed withregularity and smoothness. Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire, in histurn, took his cigar from his mouth once more, blew away the fine whiterings of smoke and said:
"Leonidas, it appears to me that you have hit u
pon the truth, or as ourlegal friends would say, the truth, the whole truth and nothing but thetruth. I am in the middle of life and I realize suddenly that in all theyears I have lived I have met but few thinkers, certainly not more thanhalf a dozen, perhaps not more than three or four."
He put his cigar back in his mouth and the two puffed simultaneously andwith precision, blowing out the fine, delicate rings of smoke at exactlythe same time. Gentlemen of the old school they were, even then, butHarry recognized, too, that Colonel Leonidas Talbot had spoken theweighty truth. Stonewall Jackson was a thinker, and thinkers are nevernumerous in the world. He resolved to think more for himself if hecould, and he sat there trying to think, while he absently regarded thetwo colonels.
Colonel Leonidas Talbot, after two minutes perhaps, took the cigar fromhis mouth once more and said to Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire:
"Fine cigars the Yankees make, Hector."
"Quite true, Leonidas. One of the best I have ever smoked."
"Not more than a dozen left."
"Then we must get more."
"But how?"
"Stonewall Jackson will think of a way."
Harry, despite his respect for them, was compelled to laugh. But the twocolonels laughed with him.
"The words of my friend Leonidas have been proved true within a fewminutes," said Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire. "In doubt weturned at once and with involuntary impulse to Stonewall Jackson tothink of a way. He has impressed us, as he has impressed the privates,with his intellectual power."
Harry sat with them nearly an hour. He had not only respect butaffection also for them. Old-fashioned they might be in some ways, butthey were able military men, thoroughly alert, and he knew that he couldlearn much from them. When he left them he returned to General Jacksonand a few more days of waiting followed.
Winter was now wholly gone and spring, treacherous at first, wasbecoming real and reliable. Reports heavy and ominous were coming fromMcClellan. He would disembark and march up the peninsula on Richmondwith a vast and irresistible force. Jackson might be drawn off from thevalley to help Johnston in the defense of the capital. But Banks withhis great army would then march down it as if on parade.
Harry heard one morning that a new man was put in command of theSouthern forces in Northern Virginia. Robert Edward Lee was his name,and it was a good name, too. He was the son of that famous Light HorseHarry Lee who was a favorite of Washington in the Revolution. Alreadyan elderly man, he was sober and quiet, but the old West Pointers passedthe word through Jackson's army that he was full of courage and daring.
Harry felt the stimulus almost at once. A fresh wind seemed to beblowing down the Valley of Virginia. Lee had sent word to Jackson thathe might do what he could, and that he might draw to his help also alarge division under Ewell. The news spread through the army and therewas a great buzzing. Young Virginia was eager to march against any odds,and Harry was with them, heart and soul.
Nor were they kept waiting now. The news had scarcely spread through thearmy when they heard the crack of carbines in their front. The cavalryof Ashby, increased by many recruits, was already skirmishing with thevanguard of Banks. It was the last day of April and Harry, sent to thefront, saw Ashby drive in all the Northern cavalry. When he returnedwith the news Jackson instantly lifted up his whole division and marchedby the flank through the hills, leaving Ewell with his men to occupyBanks in front. The mind of the "thinker" was working, and Harry knew itas he rode behind him. He did not know what this movement meant, but hehad full confidence in the man who led them.
Yet the marching, like all the other marching they had done, was ofthe hardest. The ground, torn by hoofs, cannon wheels and the feet ofmarching men, was a continuous quagmire. Ponds made newly by the rainsstood everywhere. Often it required many horses and men to drag a cannonout of the mud. The junior officers, and finally those of the highestrank, leaped from their horses and gave aid. Jackson himself carriedboughs and stones to help make a road.
Despite the utmost possible exertions the army could make only fivemiles in a single day and at the approach of night it flung itself uponthe ground exhausted.
"I call this the Great Muddy Army," said St. Clair, ruefully to Harry,as he surveyed his fine uniform, now smeared over with brown liquidpaste.
"It might have been worse," said Langdon. "Suppose we had fallen in aquicksand and had been swallowed up utterly. 'Tis better to live muddythan not to live at all."
"It would be better to call it the Great Tired Army just now," saidHarry. "To keep on pulling your feet all day long out of mud half a yarddeep is the most exhausting thing I know or ever heard of."
"Where are we going?" asked St. Clair.
"Blessed if I know," replied Harry, "nor does anybody else save one.It's all hid under General Jackson's hat."
"I guess it's Staunton," said Langdon. "That's a fine town, as good asWinchester. I've got kinsfolk there. I came up once from South Carolinaand made them a visit."
But it was not Staunton, although Staunton, hearing of the march, hadbeen joyfully expecting Jackson's men. The fine morning came, warm andbrilliant with sunshine, raising the spirits of the troops. The roadsbegan to dry out fast and marching would be much easier. But Jackson,leading somberly on Little Sorrel, turned his back on Staunton.
The Virginians stared in amazement when the heads of columns turnedaway from that trim and hospitable little city, which they knew was sofervently attached to their cause. Before them rose the long line of theBlue Ridge and they were marching straight toward it.
They marched a while in silence, and then a groan ran through the ranks.It was such a compound of dismay and grief that it made Harry shiver.The Virginians were leaving their beloved and beautiful valley, leavingit all to the invader, leaving the pretty little places, Winchester andStaunton and Harrisonburg and Strasburg and Front Royal, and all thetowns and villages in which their families and relatives lived. Everyone of the Virginians had blood kin everywhere through the valley.
The men began to whisper to one another, but the order of silence waspassed sternly along the line. They marched on, sullen and gloomy,but after a while their natural courage and their confidence in theircommander returned. Their spirits did not desert them, even when theyleft the valley behind them and began to climb the Blue Ridge.
Up, up, they went through dense forests. Harry remembered their ascentof the Massanuttons, but the snows were gone now. They pressed on untilthey reached the crest of the ridges and there the whole army paused,high up in the air, while they looked with eager interest at the rollingVirginia country stretching toward the east until it sank under thehorizon.
Harry saw smoke that marked the passing of trains, and he believedthat they were now on their way to Richmond to help defend the capitalagainst McClellan. He glanced at Jackson, but the commander was astight-lipped as ever. Whatever was under that hat remained the secret ofits owner.
They descended the mountains and came to a railway station, where manycars were waiting. Troops were hurried aboard expecting to start forRichmond, and then a sudden roar burst from them. The trains did notmove toward Richmond, but back, through defiles that would lead themagain into their beloved valley. Cheers one after another rolled throughthe trains, and Harry, who was in a forward car with the Invincibles,joined in as joyfully as the best Virginian of them all.
The boy was so much exhausted that he fell into a doze on a seat. Butafterward he dimly remembered that he heard the two colonels talking.They were trying to probe into the depths of Jackson's mind. Theysurmised that this march over the mountains had been made partly todelude Banks. They were right, at least as far as the delusion of Bankswent. He had been telegraphing that the army of Jackson was gone, on itsway to Richmond, and that there was nothing in front of him save a fewskirmishers.
The Virginians left their trains in the valley again, waited for theirwagons and artillery, and then marched on to Staunton, that neat littlecity that was so dear to so many of them. Bu
t the mystery of what wasunder Jackson's hat remained a mystery. They passed through Staunton,amid the cheering people, women and children waving hats, scarfs andhandkerchiefs to their champions. But the terrible Stonewall gave themno chance to dally in that pleasant place. Staunton was left far behindand they never stopped until they went into camp on the side of anotherrange of mountains.
Here in a great forest they built a few fires, more not being allowed,and after a hasty supper most of the men lay down in their blankets torest. But the young officers did not sleep. A small tent for Jackson hadbeen raised by the side of the Invincibles, and Harry, sitting on a log,talked in low tones with Langdon and St. Clair. The three were of theopinion that some blow was about to be struck, but what it was they didnot know.
"The Yankees must have lost us entirely," said Langdon. "To tell you thetruth, boys, I've lost myself. I've been marching about so much that Idon't know east from west and north from south. I'm sure that this isthe Southern army about us, but whether we're still in Virginia or notis beyond me. What do you say, Arthur?"
"It's Virginia still, Tom, but we've undoubtedly done a lot ofmarching."
"A lot of it! 'Lot' is a feeble word! We've marched a million miles inthe last few days. I've checked 'em off by the bunions on the soles ofmy feet."
"Look out, boys," said St. Clair. "Here comes the general!"
General Jackson was walking toward them. His face had the usual intense,preoccupied look, but he smiled slightly when he saw the three lads.
"Come, young gentlemen," he said, "we're going to take a look at theenemy."
A group of older officers joined him, and the three lads followedmodestly. They reached a towering crag and from it Harry saw a deepvalley fringed with woods, a river rushing down its center and furtheron a village. Both banks of the river were thick with troops, men inblue. Over and beyond the valley was a great mass of mountains, ridgeon ridge and peak on peak, covered with black forest, and cut by defilesand ravines so narrow that it was always dark within them.
Harry felt a strange, indescribable thrill. The presence of the enemyand the wild setting of the mountains filled him with a kind of awe.
"It's a Northern army under Milroy," whispered St. Clair, who now heardJackson talking to the older officers.
"Then there's going to be a battle," said Harry.