CHAPTER IX
WINCHESTER
The December afternoon was drawing to a quiet close. The season hadproved extraordinarily mild--it seemed Indian summer still rather thanonly a fortnight from Christmas. Farming folk prophesied a cold January,while the neighbourhood negroes held that the unusual warmth proceededfrom the comet which blazed this year in the skies. An old woman whomthe children called a witch sat in the sun on her doorstep, and shookher head at every passer-by. "A green Christmas makes a fatgraveyard.--Down, pussy, down, down!--A green Christmas makes a fatgraveyard. Did ye hear the firing yesterday?"
An amethyst haze filled the valley town of Winchester. Ordinarily, inweather such as this, the wide streets had a dream quality and thegardens where the chrysanthemums yet lingered and the brick sidewalksall strewn with russet leaves, and the faint smell of wood smoke, andthe old gilt of the sunshine, all carried back as to some vanished songor story, sweet while it lasted. But if this was true once ofWinchester, and might be true again, it was hardly true of to-day, ofWinchester in December 1861; of Winchester with Major-General T. J.Jackson, commanding the Department of the Valley, quartered in the town,and the Stonewall Brigade, commanded by Garnett, encamped upon its edge,and the Valley Troopers commanded by Ashby, flashing by on their way toreconnoitre the Federal General Banks; of Winchester, with bands playing"Dixie," with great white-topped wagons going endlessly through thestreets, with soldiers passing and repassing, or drilling, drilling,drilling in the fields without, or thronging the Taylor House, or comingto supper in the hospitable brick mansions where the pretty girls couldnever, never, never look aught but kindly on any man who wore thegrey--of Winchester, in short, in war time.
The sun slipped low in the heavens. Out of the purple haze to the south,a wagon from Staunton way, drawn by oxen and piled high with forage,came up a side street. The ancient negro who drove was singing,--
"I saw de beam in my sistah's eye, Cyarn see de beam in mine! Yo'd better lef' yo' sistah's doah, An' keep yo' own doah fine!-- An' I had er mighty battle lak Jacob an' de angel--"
The wagon passed on. A picket squad swung up the middle of the street,turned, and went marching toward the sunset. The corner house was awarehouse fitted for a hospital. Faces showed at the windows; when, fora moment, a sash was lifted, a racking cough made itself heard. Justnow no wounded lodged in the warehouse, but all the diseases were therewith which raw troops are scourged. There were measles and mumps, therewere fevers, typhoid and malarial, there were intestinal troubles, therewere pleurisy and pneumonia. Some of the illnesses were slight, and someof the men would be discharged by Death. The glow of the sun made thewindow glass red. It was well, for the place needed every touch ofcheer.
The door opened, and two ladies came out, the younger with an emptybasket. The oppression of the place they were leaving stayed with themfor some distance down the wider street, but at last, in the rosy light,with a bugle sounding from the camp without the town, the spirits of theyounger, at least, revived. She drew a long breath. "Well! As long asWill is in a more comfortable place, and is getting better, and Richardis well and strong, and they all say he is a born soldier and his menadore him, and there isn't a battle, and if there were, we'd win, andthis weather lasts, and a colonel and a captain and two privates arecoming to supper, and one of them draws and the other has a voice likean angel, and my silk dress is almost as good as new, I can't beterribly unhappy, mother!"
Margaret Cleave laughed. "I don't want you to be! I am not 'terribly'unhappy myself--despite those poor, poor boys in the warehouse! I amthankful about Will and I am thankful about Richard, and war is war, andwe must all stand it. We must stand it with just as high and exquisite acourage as we can muster. If we can add a gaiety that isn't thoughtless,so much the better! We've got to do it for Virginia and for theSouth--yes, and for every soul who is dear to us, and for ourselves!I'll lace your silk dress, and I'll play Mr. Fairfax's accompanimentswith much pleasure--and to-morrow we'll come back to the warehouse witha full basket! I wish the coffee was not getting so low."
A soldier, a staff officer equipped for the road, came rapidly up thebrick sidewalk, overtook the two, and spoke their names, holding out hishand. "I was sure 'twas you! Nowadays one meets one's world in no matterhow unlikely a place! Not that Winchester is an unlikely place--dear andhospitable little town! Nor, perhaps, should I be surprised. I knew thatCaptain Cleave was in the Stonewall Brigade." He took the basket fromMiriam and walked beside them.
"My youngest son has been ill," said Margaret. "He is in the 2d. Kindfriends took him home and cared for him, but Miriam and I were unhappyat Three Oaks. So we closed the house and came."
"Will always was a baby," volunteered Miriam. "When the fever made himdelirious and they thought he was going to die, he kept calling formother, and sometimes he called for me. Now he's better, and the sisterof a man in his mess is reading 'Kenilworth' aloud to him, and he'sspoiled to death! Richard always did spoil him--"
Her mother smiled. "I don't think he's really spoiled; not, that is, byRichard.--When did you come to town, Major Stafford?"
"Last night," answered Stafford. "From General Loring, near Monterey. Iam the advance of the Army of the Northwest. We are ordered to joinGeneral Jackson, and ten days or so should see the troops in Winchester.What is going to happen then? Dear madam, I do not know!"
Miriam chose to remain petulant. "General Jackson is the most dreadfulmartinet! He drills and drills and drills the poor men until they're tootired to stand. He makes people get up at dawn in December, and he won'tlet officers leave camp without a pass, and he has prayer meetings allthe time! Ever so many people think he's crazy!"
"Miriam!"
"But they do, mother! Of course, not Richard. Richard knows how to be asoldier. And Will--Will would be loyal to a piece of cement out of theVirginia Military Institute! And of course the Stonewall Brigade doesn'tsay it, nor the Rockbridge Artillery, nor any of Ashby's men--they'resoldiers, too! But I've heard the _militia_ say it--"
Maury Stafford laughed. "Then I won't! I'll only confide to you that theArmy of the Northwest thinks that General Jackson is--is--well, isGeneral Jackson!--To burn our stores of subsistence, to leave unguardedthe passes along a hundred miles of mountain, to abandon quarters justestablished, to get our sick somehow to the rear, and to come up hereupon some wild winter campaign or other--all on the representation ofthe rather singular Commander of the Army of the Valley!" He took offhis gold-braided cap, and lifted his handsome head to the breeze fromthe west. "But what can you do with professors of military institutesand generals with one battle to their credit? Nothing--when they havemanaged to convert to their way of thinking both the commanding generaland the government at Richmond!--You look grave, Mrs. Cleave! I shouldnot have said that, I know. Pray forget it--and don't believe that I amgiven to such indiscretions!" He laughed. "There were representationswhich I was to make to General Jackson. Well, I made them! In point offact, I made them but an hour ago. Hence this unbecoming temper. Theywere received quite in the manner of a stone wall--without comment andwithout removal from the ground occupied! Well! Why not expect the thingto show its nature?--Is this pleasant old house your goal?"
They had come to a white, old mansion, with steps running up to a narrowyard and a small porch. "Yes, we are staying here. Will you not comein?"
"Thank you, no. I ride as far as Woodstock to-night. I have not seenCaptain Cleave. Indeed, I have not seen him since last spring."
"He is acting just now as aide to General Jackson. You have been allthis while with General Magruder on the Peninsula?"
"Yes, until lately. We missed Manassas." He stood beside the gardenwall, his gauntleted hand on the gatepost. A creeper bearing yet a fewleaves hung from a tree above, and one of the crimson points touched hisgrey cap. "I am now on General Loring's staff. Where he goes at presentI go. And where General Jackson goes, apparently we all go! Heigho! Howd
o you like war, Miss Miriam?"
Miriam regarded him with her air of a brown and gold gilliflower. Shethought him very handsome, and oh, she liked the gold-braided cap andthe fine white gauntlet! "There is something to be said on both sides,"she stated sedately. "I should like it very much did not you all runinto danger."
Stafford looked at her, amused. "But some of us run out again--Ah!"
Cleave came from the house and down the path to the gate, moving in ared sunset glow, beneath trees on which yet hung a few russet leaves. Hegreeted his mother and sister, then turned with courtesy to Stafford."Sandy Pendleton told me you were in town. From General Loring, are younot? You low-countrymen are gathering all our mountain laurels! GauleyRiver and Greenbriar and to-day, news of the Allegheny engagement--"
"You seem to be bent," said Stafford, "on drawing us from the Montereyline before we can gather any more! We will be here next week."
"You do not like the idea?"
The other shrugged. "I? Why should I care? It is war to go where you aresent. But this weather is much too good to last, and I fail to see whatcan be done to the northward when winter is once let loose! And we leavethe passes open. There is nothing to prevent Rosecrans from pushing aforce through to Staunton!"
"That is the best thing that could happen. Draw them into the middlevalley and they are ours."
Stafford made a gesture. "_Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame!_ Mrs. Cleave,there is no help for it! We are bewitched--and all by a stone wall in anold cadet cap!"
Cleave laughed. "No, no! but it is, I think, apparent--You will not goin? I will walk with you, then, as far as the hotel."
Margaret Cleave held out her hand. "Good-bye, Major Stafford. We thinkday and night of all you soldiers. God bless you all, wherever you maybe!"
In the sunset light the two men turned their faces toward the TaylorHouse. "It is a good thing to have a mother," said Stafford. "Mine diedwhen I was a little boy.--Well, what do you think of affairs ingeneral?"
"I think that last summer we won a Pyrrhic victory."
"I share your opinion. It was disastrous. How confident we are with our'One to Four,' our 'Quality, not Quantity,' our contempt for 'BruteMass'! To listen to the newspapers one would suppose that the fightinganimal was never bred north of the Potomac--Maryland, alone, anhonourable exception! France and England, too! They'll be our activeallies not a minute later than April Fool's Day!"
"You are bitter."
"It is the case, is it not?"
"Yes," said Cleave gravely. "And the blockade is daily growing moreeffective, and yet before we are closed in a ring of fire we do not getour cotton out nor our muskets in! Send the cotton to Europe and sell itand so fill the treasury with honest gold!--not with this delusion ofwealth, these sheafs of Promises to Pay the Government is issuing. Fivemillion bales of cotton idle in the South! With every nerve strained,with daring commensurate to the prize, we could get them out--even now!To-morrow it will be too late. The blockade will be complete, and weshall rest as isolated as the other side of the moon. Well! Fewcountries or men are wise till after the event."
"You are not bitter."
Cleave shook his head. "I do not believe in bitterness. And if thegovernment is not altogether wise, so are few others. The people areheroic. We will see what we will see. I had a letter from the Peninsulathe other day. Fauquier Cary is there with his legion. He says thatMcClellan will organize and organize and organize again untilspringtime. It's what he does best. Then, if only he can be set going,he will bring into the field an army that is an army. And if he's notthwarted by his own government he'll try to reach Richmond from thecorrect direction--and that's by sea to Old Point and up both banks ofthe James. All of which means heavy fighting on the Peninsula. So Carythinks, and I dare say he knows his man. They were classmates and servedtogether in Mexico."
They approached the old colonnaded hotel. Stafford's horse stood at therack. A few soldiers were about the place and down the street, in thewarm dusk a band was playing. "You ride up the valley to-night?" saidCleave. "When you return to Winchester you must let me serve you in anyway I can."
"You are very good. How red the sunsets are! Look at that bough acrossthe sky!"
"Were you," asked Cleave, "were you in Albemarle this autumn?"
"Yes. For one day in October. The country looked its loveliest. The oldride through the woods, by the mill--"
"I remember," said Cleave. "My cousins were well?"
"Quite well. Enchanted princesses guarded by the sable Julius. The oldplace was all one drift of red and yellow leaves."
They reached the hotel. Cleave spoke abruptly. "I am to reportpresently at headquarters, so I will say good-bye here." The two touchedhands. "A pleasant gallop! You'll have a moon and the road is good. Ifyou see Randolph of Taliaferro's, tell him to bring that book of mine hehas."
He walked away, stalwart in the afterglow. Stafford watched him from theporch. "Under other circumstances," he thought, "I might have liked youwell enough. Now I do not care if you lead your mad general's next madcharge."
The night fell, mild as milk, with a great white moon above thetreetops. It made like mother-of-pearl the small grey house with pointedwindows occupied, this December, by Stonewall Jackson. A clock in thehall was striking nine as Cleave lifted the knocker. An old negro cameto the door. "Good-evening, Jim. Will you tell the general--"
Some one spoke from down the hall. "Is that Captain Cleave? Come here,sir."
Passing an open door through which could be seen a clerk writing and anaide with his hands behind him studying an engraving of Washingtoncrossing the Delaware, Cleave went on to the room whence the voice hadissued. "Come in, and close the door," it said again.
The room was small, furnished with a Spartan simplicity, but with twogood lamps and with a log of hickory burning on the hearth. A table helda number of outspread maps and three books--the Bible, a dictionary, andNapoleon's "Maxims." General Jackson was seated on a small,rush-bottomed chair beside the table. By the window stood a soldier innondescript grey attire, much the worse for mud and brambles. "CaptainCleave," said the general, "were you ever on the Chesapeake and OhioCanal?"
"No, sir."
"Do you know the stretch of the Potomac north of us?"
"I have ridden over the country between Harper's Ferry and Bath."
"Do you know where is Dam No. 5?"
"Yes, sir."
"Come nearer, Gold," said the general. "Go on with your report."
"I counted thirty boats going up, general," said Allan. "All empty.There's a pretty constant stream of them just now. They'll get the coalat Cumberland and turn back toward Washington in about ten days. It isestimated that a thousand tons a day will go down the canal--some of itfor private use in Washington, but the greater part for the warships andthe factories. The flatboats carry a large amount of forage. The Yankeesare using them, too, to transport troops. There is no attempt to rebuildthe section of the Baltimore and Ohio that we destroyed. They seemwilling to depend upon the canal. But if Dam No. 5 were cut it would drythat canal like a bone for miles. The river men say that if anyconsiderable breach were made it could not be mended this winter. As forthe troops on the other side of the river--" He drew out a slip of paperand read from it: "'Yankees upon the Maryland side of the Potomac fromPoint of Rocks to Hancock--say thirty-five hundred men. Two thirds ofthis force above Dam No. 4. At Williamsport Colonel Leonard with threeregiments and several guns. At Four Locks a troop. At Dam No. 5 severalcompanies of infantry encamped. At Hancock a considerable force--perhapstwo regiments. A detachment at Clear Spring. Cavalry over against SleepyCreek, Cherry Run, and Sir John's Run. Concentration easy at any pointup and down the river. A system of signals both for the other side andfor any of their scouts who may have crossed to this. Troops reportedbelow Point of Rocks and at the mouth of the Monocacy. The remainder ofGeneral Banks's division--perhaps fifteen thousand men--in winterquarters at Frederick City.'--That is all I have to report, general."
"Very go
od," said Jackson. "Give me your memorandum. Captain Cleave--"
"Yes, sir."
Stonewall Jackson rose from the rush-bottomed chair and walked with hisslow stiff stride to the mantelpiece. From behind a china vase he took asaucer holding a lemon which had been cut in two, then, standing veryrigidly before the fire, he slowly and meditatively sucked the lemon.Cleave, beside the table, had a whimsical thought. The general, about toopen slightly the door of reticence and impart information, wasstimulating himself to the effort. He put the lemon down and returned tothe table. "Captain Cleave, while I am waiting for General Loring, Ipropose to break this dam--Dam No. 5."
"Yes, sir."
"I shall go almost immediately to Martinsburg, taking with me GeneralGarnett's brigade and two of the Rockbridge guns. It will be necessaryto cover the operation. The work may take several days. By the time thedam is broken General Loring will be up."
His eyes moved toward the mantel. Allan Gold stepped noiselessly acrossthe room and brought back the saucer with the lemon, setting it on thetable. "Thank you," said Jackson gently, and sucked the acid treasure."With this reinforcement I am going against Kelly at Romney. If Godgives us the victory there, I shall strike past Kelly at Rosecrans."
"I hope that He will give it, sir. That part of Virginia is worth makingan effort for."
"That is my opinion, sir. While I march toward Romney the government atWashington may thrust General Banks across the Potomac. I do not wanthim in my rear, nor between me and General Johnston." He again suckedthe lemon. "The Secretary of War writes that our spies report a clamourat Washington for some movement before spring. It is thought at Richmondthat General Banks has been ordered to cross the Potomac as soon aspracticable, effecting if possible a junction with Kelly and descendingupon Winchester; General McClellan at the same time to advance againstGeneral Johnston at Manassas. Maybe it is so, maybe not. Of one thing Iam sure--General McClellan will not move until General Banks is on thisside of the river. Yesterday Colonel Ashby captured a courier of Kelly'sbearing a letter to Banks. The letter, which demands an answer, asks toknow explicitly what are Banks's instructions from Washington."
He put the lemon down. "Captain Cleave, I very particularly wish to knowwhat are General Banks's instructions from Washington. Were Jarrow herehe would find out for me, but I have sent Jarrow on other business. Iwant to know within four days."
There was a moment's stillness in the room; then, "Very well, sir," saidCleave.
"I remember," said Jackson, "that you sent me the scout here. He doesgood service. He is at your disposal for the next few days." Drawing inkand paper toward him, he wrote a few lines. "Go to the adjutant foranything you may need. _Captain Cleave on Special Service._ Here, too,is the name and address of a Catholic priest in Frederick City. He maybe depended upon for some readiness of mind, and for good-will. That isall, I think. Good-night, captain. In four days, if you please. You willfind me somewhere between Martinsburg and the river."
"You spoke, sir," said Cleave, "of a captured dispatch from GeneralKelly. May I see it?"
Jackson took it from a box upon the table. "There it is."
"Do you object, sir, to its reaching General Banks?"
The other retook the paper, glanced over it, and gave it back. "No, notif it goes by a proper courier."
"Has the former courier been sent to Richmond?"
"Not yet." He wrote another line. "This, if you wish to see thecourier."
"That is all, sir?"
"That is all, captain. Within four days, near Martinsburg. Good-night."
The two soldiers saluted and left the room, going softly through thehall, past the door where the aide was now studying the Capture of Andreand out into the moonlight. They walked down the long board path to thegate, unlatched this, and turned their faces toward the camp. For somedistance they were as silent as the street before them; then, "If everyou had taught school," said Allan, "you would know how headings out ofreading books and sentences that you set for the children to copy have away of starting up before you at every corner. _The Post of Honour isthe Post of Danger._ I can see that in round hand. But what I can't seeis how you are going to do it."
"I want," said the other, "one half-hour quite to myself. Then I thinkI'll know. Here's the picket. The word's _Bethel_."
The Stonewall Brigade was encamped in the fields just without the town.It was early in the war and there were yet tents--long line of canvas"A's" stretching in the moonlight far over the rolling ground. Where thetents failed there had been erected tiny cabins, very rude, withabundant ventilation and the strangest chimneys. A few field officerswere quartered in the town and Jackson had with him there his permanentstaff. But captains and lieutenants stayed with the men. The general ofthem all ruled with a rod of iron. For the most part it swayed lightly,with a certain moral effect only over the head of the rank and file, butit grew to a crushing beam for the _officer_ who did not with alacrityhabitually attend to his every duty, great or small. The do-nothing, thepopinjay, the intractable, the self-important, the remonstrant, the _Ithought, sir_--the _It is due to my dignity, sir_--none of theseflourished in the Army of the Valley. The tendencies had been there, ofcourse; they came up like the flowers of spring, but each poor bloom asit appeared met an icy blast. The root beneath learned to send up to thesky a sturdier growth.
Company A, 65th Virginia, numbered in its ranks men who knew all aboutlog cabins. It was well lodged, and the captain's hut did it credit.Richard Cleave and Allan, entering, found a fire, and Tullius noddingbeside it. At their step he roused himself, rose, and put on anotherlog. He was a negro of sixty years, tall and hale, a dignified master offoraging, a being simple and taciturn and strong, with a love for everyclod of earth at Three Oaks where he had been born.
Cleave spoke. "Where is Lieutenant Breckinridge, Tullius?"
Tullius straightened himself. "Lieutenant Breckinridge is at thecolonel's, sah. An' Lieutenant Coffin, he's at the Debatin' Society inCompany C."
Cleave sat down before the pine table. "Give Allan Gold something toeat, and don't either of you speak to me for twenty minutes." He proppedhis head on his hands and stared at the boards. Allan seated himself ona box beside the fire. Tullius took from a flat, heated stone a batteredtin coffee-pot, poured into an earthenware cup some smoking mixture, andbrought it to the scout. "Hit ain't moh'n half chicory, sah," From animpromptu cupboard he brought a plate of small round cakes. "Mis'Miriam, she done mek 'em fer us."
Cleave spoke from the table. His voice was dreamy, his eyes fixed uponthe surface before him as though he were studying ocean depths."Tullius, give me a dozen coffee berries."
"Er _cup_ of coffee, you mean, Marse Dick?"
"No, coffee berries. Haven't you any there?"
Tullius brought a small tin box, tilted it, and poured on the tablesomething like the required number. "Thar's all thar is." He returned tohis corner of the fire, and it purred and flamed upon the crazy hearthbetween him and the scout. The latter, his rifle across his knees, nowwatched the flames, now the man at the table. Cleave had strung thecoffee berries along a crack between the boards. Now he advanced onesmall brown object, now retired another, now crossed them from one sideto the other. Following these manoeuvres, he sat with his chin uponhis hand for five minutes, then began to make a circle with the berries.He worked slowly, dropping point after point in place. The two ends met.He rose from the table. "That's all right. I am going to brigadeheadquarters for a little, Allan. Suppose you come along. There are somethings I want to know--those signals, for instance." He took up his hatand sword. "Tullius, you'll have Dundee saddled at four o'clock. I'llsee Lieutenant Breckinridge and the colonel. I won't be back until aftertaps. Cover the fire, but wait up for me."
He and Allan went out together. Tullius restored the coffee berries tothe tin box, and the box to the cupboard, sat down by the fire, and fellagain into a nodding dream of Three Oaks, of the garden, and of hisgrandchildren in the quarter.