CHAPTER XXIV
THE FOOT CAVALRY
Three armies had for their objective Strasburg in the Valley ofVirginia, eighteen miles below Winchester. One came from the northwest,under Fremont, and counted ten thousand. One came from the southeast,Shields's Division from McDowell at Fredericksburg, and numbered fifteenthousand. These two were blue clad, moving under the stars and stripes.The third, grey, under the stars and bars, sixteen thousand muskets, ledby a man on a sorrel nag, came from Harper's Ferry. Fremont, Indianfighter, moved fast; Shields, Irish born, veteran of the Mexican War,moved fast; but the man in grey, on the sorrel nag, moved infantry withthe rapidity of cavalry. Around the three converging armies rested oradvanced other bodies of blue troops, hovering, watchful of the chanceto strike. Saxton at Harper's Ferry had seven thousand; Banks atWilliamsport had seven thousand. Ord, commanding McDowell's seconddivision, was at Manassas Gap with nine thousand. King, the thirddivision, had ten thousand, near Catlett's Station. At Ashby's Gap wasGeary with two thousand; at Thoroughfare, Bayard with two thousand.
Over a hundred miles away, southeast, tree-embowered upon her sevenhills, lay Richmond, and at her eastern gates, on the marshyChickahominy were gathered one hundred and forty thousand men, blueclad, led by McClellan. Bronzed, soldierly, chivalrous, an able ifover-cautious general, he waited, irresolute, and at last postponed hisbattle. He would tarry for McDowell who, obeying orders from Washington,had turned aside to encounter and crush a sometime professor of naturalphilosophy with a gift for travelling like a meteor, for confusing likea Jack-o'-lantern, and for striking the bull's-eye of the moment like asilver bullet or a William Tell arrow. Between Richmond and the many andheavy blue lines, with their siege train, lay thinner lines ofgrey--sixty-five thousand men under the stars and bars. They, too,watched the turning aside of McDowell, watched Shields, Ord, King, andFremont from the west, trappers hot on the path of the man with the oldforage cap, and the sabre tucked under his arm! All Virginia watched,holding her breath.
Out of Virginia, before Corinth in Tennessee, and at Cumberland Gap, Armiesof the Ohio, of the Mississippi, of the West--one hundred and ten thousandin blue, eighty thousand in grey, Halleck and Beauregard--listened for newsfrom Virginia. "Has Richmond fallen?" "No. McClellan is cautious. Lee andJohnston are between him and the city. He will not attack until he isfurther strengthened by McDowell." "Where is McDowell?" "He was movingsouth from Fredericksburg. His outposts almost touched those of McClellan.But now he has been sent across the Blue Ridge to the Valley, there to puta period to the activities of Stonewall Jackson. That done, he will turnand join McClellan. The two will enfold Lee and Jackson--the AnacondaScheme--and crush every bone in their bodies. Richmond will fall and thewar end."
Tennessee watched and north Alabama. In Arkansas, on the White Riverwere twelve thousand men in blue, and, arrayed against them, sixthousand, white men and Indians, clad in grey. Far, far away, outeredges of the war, they, too, looked toward the east and wondered how itwent in Virginia. Grey and blue, Missouri, Louisiana, New Mexico,Arizona--at lonely railway or telegraph stations, at river landings,wherever, in the intervals between skirmishes, papers might be receivedor messages read, soldiers in blue or soldiers in grey asked eagerly"What news from Richmond?"--"Stonewall Jackson? Valley ofVirginia?"--"Valley of Virginia! I know!--saw it once. God's country."
At New Orleans, on the levees, in the hot streets, under old balconiesand by walled gardens, six thousand men in blue under Butler watched,and a sad-eyed captive city watched. From the lower Mississippi, fromthe blue waters of the Gulf, from the long Atlantic swells, the shipslooked to the land. All the blockading fleets, all the oldline-of-battle ships, the screw-frigates, the corvettes, the oldmerchant steamers turned warrior, the strange new iron-clads and mortarboats, engaged in bottling up the Confederacy, they all looked for thefall of Richmond. There watched, too, the ram-fitted river boats, thedouble-enders, lurking beneath Spanish moss, rocking beside canebrakes,on the far, sluggish, southern rivers. And the other ships, the navy alltoo small, the scattered, shattered, despairing and courageous shipsthat flew the stars and bars, they listened, too, for a last great cryin the night. The blockade-runners listened, the Gladiators, theCeciles, the Theodoras, the Ella Warleys faring at headlong peril to andfro between Nassau in the Bahamas and small and hidden harbours of thevast coast line, inlets of Georgia, Florida, Carolina. Danger flew withthem always through the rushing brine, but with the fall of Richmonddisaster might be trusted to swoop indeed. Then woe for all the waresbelow--the Enfield rifles, the cannon powder, the cartridges, thesaltpetre, bar steel, nitric acid, leather, cloth, salt, medicines,surgical instruments! Their outlooks kept sharp watch for disaster,heaving in sight in the shape of a row of blue frigates released frompatrol duty. Let Richmond fall, and the Confederacy, war andoccupation, freedom, life, might be gone in a night, blown fromexistence by McClellan's siege guns!
Over seas the nations watched. Any day might bring a packet withnews--Richmond fallen, fallen, fallen, the Confederacy vanquished, suingfor peace--Richmond not fallen, some happy turn of affairs for theSouth, the Peace Party in the North prevailing, the Confederacyestablished, the olive planted between the two countries! Anyhow,anyhow! only end the war and set the cotton jennies spinning!
Most feverishly of all watched Washington on the Potomac. "The latest?""It will surely fall to-day. The thing is absurd. It is a little city--""From the Valley? Jackson has turned south from Harper's Ferry. Shieldsand Fremont will meet at Strasburg long before the rebels get there.Together they'll make Jackson pay--grind the stonewall small!"
The Army of the Valley had its orders from Strasburg the night of thethirtieth. The main body moved at once, back upon Winchester, where itgathered up stragglers, prisoners, and the train of captured stores.Winder with the Stonewall Brigade, left to make a final feint atHarper's Ferry, was not in motion southward till much later. Of the mainarmy the 21st Virginia led the column, convoying prisoners and the prizeof stores. There were twenty-three hundred prisoners, men in blue,tramping sullenly. Stonewall Jackson had made requisition of all wagonsabout Winchester. They were now in line, all manner of wagons,white-covered, uncovered, stout-bodied, ancient, rickety, in everycondition but of fresh paint and new harness. Carts were brought, smallvans of pedlars; there were stranded circus wagons with gold scrolls.Nor did there lack vehicles meant for human freight. Old familycarriages, high-swung, capacious as the ark, were filled, not with womenand children, belles and beaux, but with bags of powder and boxes ofcartridges. Superannuated mail coaches carried blankets, oilcloths,sabres, shoes; light spring wagons held Enfield rifles; doctors' buggiesmedicine cases corded in with care. All these added themselves to theregular supply train of the army; great wagons marked C. S. A. in which,God knows! there was room for stores. The captures of the past daysfilled the vacancies; welcome enough were the thirty-five thousandpounds of bacon, the many barrels of flour, the hardtack, sugar, cannedgoods, coffee, the tea and strange delicacies kept for the sick. Morewelcome was the capture of the ammunition. The ordnance officers beamedlovingly upon it and upon the nine thousand excellent new small arms,and the prisoner Parrotts. There were two hundred beautiful wagonsmarked U. S. A.; the surgeons, too, congratulated themselves upon newambulances. Horses and mules that had changed masters might be restlessat first; but they soon knew the touch of experienced hands and turnedcontented up the Valley. A herd of cattle was driven bellowing intoline.
Seven miles in length, train and convoying troops emerged fromWinchester in the early light and began a rumbling, bellowing, singing,jesting, determined progress up the Valley pike. Ewell followed with hisbrigadiers--Taylor, Trimble, Elzey, Scott, and the Maryland Line. Theold Army of the Valley came next in column--all save the StonewallBrigade that was yet in the rear double-quicking it on the road fromHarper's Ferry. As far in advance moved Stonewall Jackson's screen ofcavalry, the Valley horsemen under Ashby, a supple, quick-travelling,keen-eyed, dare-devil horde, an effective cloud behind which
to executeintricate manoeuvres, a drawer-up of information like dew from everyby-road, field, and wood, and an admirable mother of thunderbolts. Ashbyand Ashby's men were alike smarting from a late rebuke, administered inGeneral Orders. They felt it stingingly. The Confederate soldierenthroned on high his personal honour, and a slur there was a slurindeed. Now the memory of the reprimand was a strong spur to endeavour.The cavalry meant to distinguish itself, and pined for a sight ofFremont.
The day was showery with strong bursts of sunshine between the slantingsummer rains. All along the great highway, in sun and shade, women,children, the coloured people, all the white men left by the drag-net ofthe war, were out in the ripening fields, by the roadside wall, beforegates, in the village streets. They wept with pride and joy, theylaughed, they embraced. They showered praises, blessings; theyprophesied good fortune. The young women had made bouquets and garlands.Many a favourite officer rode with flowers at his saddle bow. Otherwomen had ransacked their storerooms, and now offered delicate food onsalvers--the lavish, brave, straightforward Valley women, with the mengone to the war, the horses gone to the war, the wagons taken for need,the crops like to be unreaped and the fields to be unplanted, with theclothes wearing out, with supplies hard to get, with the children, theold people, the servants, the sick, the wounded on their hands, in theirhearts and minds! They brought food, blessings, flowers, "everything forthe army! It has the work to do." The colours streamed in the wetbreeze, glorious in shadow, splendid when the sun burst forth. Thelittle old bands played
In Dixie Land whar I was born in Early on one frosty mornin'! Look away, look away, look away, Dixie Land!
Long, steady, swinging tread, pace of the foot cavalry, the main columnmoved up the Valley pike, violet in the shadow, gold in the sun. Theten-minutes-out-of-an-hour halts were shortened to five minutes. Duringone of these rests Jackson came down the line. The men cheered him."Thirty miles to-day. You must do thirty miles to-day, men." He went by,galloping forward to the immense and motley convoy. The men laughed,well pleased with themselves and with him. "Old Jack's got to see if hislemons are all right! If we don't get those lemon wagons through safe toStaunton there'll be hell to pay! Go 'way! we know he won't call ithell!"
"The butcher had a little dog, And Bingo was his name.
B-i-n-g-o-go-! B-i-n-g-o-go! And Bingo was his name!"
"_Fall in!_ Oh, Lord, we just fell out!"
Advance, convoy, main column, camped that night around and in Strasburg,Strasburg jubilant, welcoming, restless through the summer night. Winderwith the Stonewall Brigade bivouacked at Newtown, twelve miles north. Hehad made a wonderful march. The men, asleep the instant they touched theearth, lay like dead. The rest was not long; between one and two thebugles called and the regiments were again in motion. A courier hadcome from Jackson. "_General Winder, you will press forward._"
Silent, with long, steady, swinging tread, the Stonewall moved up theValley. Before it, pale, undulating, mysterious beneath the stars, ranthe turnpike, the wonderful Valley road, the highway that had grownfamiliar to the army as its hand. The Army of the Valley endowed theValley pike with personality. They spoke of it as "her." They blamed herfor mud and dust, for shadeless, waterless stretches, for a habit shewas acquiring of furrows and worn places, for the aid which sheoccasionally gave to hostile armies, for the hills which she presented,for the difficulties of her bordering stone walls when troops must bedeployed, for the weeds and nettles, thistles, and briars, with whichshe had a trick of decking her sides, for her length. "You kin marchmost to Kingdom Come on this here old road!" for the heat of the sun,the chill of the frost, the strength of the blast. In blander moods theycaressed her name. "Wish I could see the old pike once more!"--"Ain'tany road in the world like the Valley pike, and never was! _She_ neverbehaved herself like this damned out-of-corduroy-into-mud-hole,bayonet-narrow, drunken, zigzag, world's-end-and-no-to-morrow cowtrack!"
It was not only the road. All nature had new aspects for the Confederatesoldier; day by day a deeper shade of personality. So much of him wasfarmer that he was no stranger to the encampment of the earth. He wasweather-wise, knew the soil, named the trees, could _orientate_ himself,had a fighting knowledge, too, of blight and drouth, hail, frost, highwind, flood, too little and too much of sun fire. Probably he hadthought that he knew all that was to be told. When he volunteered it wasnot with the expectation of learning any other manual than that of arms.As is generally the case, he learned that what he expected was but amask for what he did not expect. He learned other manuals, among themthat of earth, air, fire, and water. His ideas of the four underwentmodification. First of all he learned that they were combatants, activeparticipants in the warfare which he had thought a matter only of armiesclad in blue and armies clad in grey. Apparently nothing was passive,nothing neutral. Bewilderingly, also, nothing was of a steadfast faith.Sun, moon, darkness and light, heat and cold, snow, rain, mud, dust,mountain, forest, hill, dale, stream, bridge, road, wall, house,hay-rick, dew, mist, storm, everything!--they fought first on one sidethen on the other. Sometimes they did this in rapid succession,sometimes they seemed to fight on both sides at once; the only attitudethey never took was one immaterial to the business in hand. Moreoverthey were vitally for or against the individual soldier; now hisfriend, now his foe, now flattering, caressing, bringing gifts, nowsnatching away, digging pitfalls, working wreck and ruin. They werestronger than he, strong and capricious beyond all reckoning. Sometimeshe loved these powers; sometimes he cursed them. Indifference, only, wasgone. He and they were alike sentient, active, conscious, inextricablymingled.
To-night the pike was cool and hard. There were clouds above, but notheavy; streams of stars ran between. To either side of the road layfields of wheat, of clover, of corn, banded and broken by shadowyforest. Massanutton loomed ahead. There was a wind blowing. Togetherwith the sound of marching feet, the jingle of accoutrements, thestriking of the horses' hoofs against loose stones, the heavy noise ofthe guns in the rear, it filled the night like the roar of a distantcataract. The men marched along without speech; now and then a terseorder, nothing more. The main army was before them at Strasburg; theymust catch up. To the west, somewhat near at hand in the darkness, wouldbe lying Fremont. Somewhere in the darkness to the east was Shields.Their junction was unmade, Stonewall Jackson and his army passingbetween the upper and the nether millstone which should have joined tocrush.
The stars began to pale, the east to redden. Faintly, faintly the swelland roll of the earth gathered colour. A cock crew from some distantfarmhouse. The Stonewall swung on, the 65th leading, its colonel,Richard Cleave, at its head. The regiment liked to see him there; itloved him well and obeyed him well, and he in his turn would have diedfor his men. Undoubtedly he was responsible for much of the regiment'stone and temper. It was good stuff in the beginning, but something ofits firm modelling was due to the man now riding Dundee at its head. The65th was acquiring a reputation, and that in a brigade whose deeds hadbeen ringing, like a great bell, sonorously through the land. "The goodconduct of the 65th--" "The 65th, reliable always--" "The 65th with itsaccustomed courage--" "The disciplined, intelligent, and courageous65th--" "The gallantry of the 65th--"
The light strengthened; pickets were reached. They belonged to Taylor'sBrigade, lying in the woods to either side of the pike. The Stonewallpassed them, still figures, against the dawn. Ahead lay Strasburg, itschurch spires silver-slender in the morning air. Later, as the sunpushed a red rim above the hills, the brigade stacked arms in a fairgreen meadow. Between it and the town lay Taliaferro. Elzey and Campbellwere in the fields to the east. General Jackson and his staff occupied aknoll just above the road.
The Stonewall fell to getting breakfast--big tin cups of scaldingcoffee! sugar! fresh meat! double allowance of meal! They broiled themeat on sharpened sticks, using the skillets for batter bread; theygrinned at the sugar before the
y dropped it in, they purred over thecoffee. Mingling with the entrancing odours was the consciousness ofhaving marched well, fought well, deserved well. Down the pike, whereTaylor kept the rear, burst a rattle of musketry. The Stonewallscrambled to its feet. "What's that? Darn it all! the Virginia Reel'sbeginning!" An officer hurried by. "Sit down, boys. It's just aminuet--reconnoissance of Fremont and Dick Taylor! It's all right. ThoseLouisianians are damned good dancers!" A courier quitting the knollabove the pike gave further information. "Skirmish back there, near theCapon road. Just a feeler of Fremont's--his army's three miles overthere in the woods. Old Dick's with General Taylor. Don't need yourhelp, boys--thank you all the same! Fremont won't attack in force. OldJack says so--sitting up there on a hickory stump reading the Book ofKings!"
"All right," said the Stonewall. "We ain't the kind to go butting inwithout an invitation! We're as modest as we are brave. Listen! The bluecoats are using minies."
Down the pike, during an hour of dewy morning, the Louisiana Brigade andFremont's advance fired at each other. The woods hereabouts were dense.At intervals the blue showed; at intervals Ewell dispatched a regimentwhich drove them back to cover. "Old Dick" would have loved to follow,but he was under orders. He fidgeted to and fro on Rifle. "Old Jacksonsays I am not to go far from the pike! I want to go after those men. Iwant to chase them to the Rio Grande! I am sick of this fiddling about!Just listen to that, General Taylor! There's a lot of them in the woods!What's the good of being a major-general if you've got to stick close tothe pike? If Old Jackson were here he would say Go! Why ain't he here?Bet you anything you like he's sucking a lemon and holding morningprayer meeting!--Oh, here are your men back with prisoners! Now, you menin blue, what command's that in the woods? Eh?--What?" "_Von Bayern binich nach diesem Lande gekommen._" "_Am Rhein habe ich gehort dass vielbezahlt wird fur...._" "Take 'em away! Semmes, you go and tell GeneralJackson all Europe's here.--Mean you to go? Of course I don't mean youto go, you thundering idiot! Always could pick Caesar out of the crowd.When I find him I obey him, I don't send him messages. ----! ---- ----!They've developed sharpshooters. Send Wheat over there, GeneralTaylor--tell him to shake the pig-nuts out of those trees!"
Toward midday the army marched. All the long afternoon it moved to thesound of musketry up the Valley pike. There was skirmishing inplenty--dashes by Fremont's cavalry, repulsed by the grey, a shortstampede of Munford's troopers, driven up the pike and into the infantryof the rear guard, rapid recovery and a Roland for an Oliver. TheValley, shimmering in the June light, lay in anything but Sabbath calm.Farmhouse and village, mill, smithy, tavern, cross-roads store, heldtheir breath--Stonewall Jackson coming up the pike, holding Fremont offwith one hand while he passes Shields.
Sunset came, a splendid flare of colour behind the Great North Mountain.The army halted for the night. The Louisiana Brigade still formed therear guard. Drawn upon high ground to either side of the pike, itlighted no fires and rested on its arms. Next it to the south layWinder. The night was clear and dark, the pike a pale limestone gleambetween the shadowy hills. Hour by hour there sounded a clattering ofhoofs, squads of cavalry, reports, couriers, staff. There was, too, asense of Stonewall Jackson somewhere on the pike, alert with grey-blueeyes piercing the dark. Toward one o'clock firing burst out on thenorth. It proved an affair of outposts. Later, shots rang out close athand, Fremont having ordered a cavalry reconnoissance. The grey met itwith clangour and pushed it back. Wheat's battalion was orderednorthward and went swinging down the pike. The blue cavalry swarmedagain, whereupon the Louisianians deployed, knelt first rank, fired rearrank, rose and went forward, knelt, fired and dispersed the swarm. Froma ridge to the west opened a Federal gun. It had intent to rake thepike, but was trained too high. The shells hurtled overhead, explodinghigh in air. The cannonade ceased as suddenly as it had begun. Daybegan to break in violet and daffodil.
As the hours went on they became fiery hot and dry. The dust cloud washigh again over advance with great wagon train, over main column andrear. Water was scarce, the men horribly weary; all suffered. Sufferingor ease, pain or pleasure, there was no resting this day. Fremont, usingparallel roads, hung upon the right; he must be pushed back to themountains as they passed up the Valley pike. All morning blue cavalrymenaced the Stonewall; to the north a dense southward moving cloudproclaimed a larger force. Mid-day found Winder deployed on both sidesof the pike, with four guns in position. The Louisianians sent back toknow if they could help. "No--we'll manage." A minute later Jacksonappeared. Wherever matters drew suddenly to a point, there he wasmiraculously found. He looked at the guns and jerked his hand in theair. "General Winder, I do not wish an engagement here. Withdraw yourbrigade, sir, regiment by regiment. General Ashby is here. He will keepthe rear."
Ashby came at the moment with a body of horse out of the wood to theeast. He checked the black stallion, saluted and made his report. "Ihave burned the Conrad Store, White House and Columbia bridges, sir. IfShields wishes to cross he must swim the Shenandoah. It is much swollen.I have left Massanutton Gap strongly guarded."
"Good! good! General Winder, you will follow General Taylor. Tell themen that I wish them to press on. General Ashby, the march is now toproceed undisturbed."
The second of June burned onward to its close, through heat, dust,thirst, and relentlessly rapid marching. In the late afternoon occurreda monstrous piling up of thunder clouds, a whistling of wind, and agreat downpour of rain. It beat down the wheat and pattered like elfinbullets on the forest leaves. Through this fusillade the army came downto the west fork of the Shenandoah. Pioneers laid a bridge of wagons,and, brigade by brigade, the army crossed. High on the bank in the loudwind and dashing rain, Jackson on Little Sorrel watched the transit. Bydusk all were over and the bridge was taken up.
On the further shore Ashby now kept guard between Fremont and the hostin grey. As for Shields, he was on the far side of the Massanuttons,before him a bridgeless, swollen torrent and a guarded mountain pass.Before becoming dangerous he must move south and round the Massanuttons.Far from achieving junction, space had widened between Shields andFremont. The Army of the Valley had run the gauntlet, and in doing sohad pushed the walls apart. The men, climbing from the Shenandoah,saluting their general, above them there in the wind and the rain,thought the voice with which he answered them unusually gentle. Healmost always spoke to his troops gently, but to-night there was almosta fatherly tone. And though he jerked his hand into the air, it wasmeditatively done, a quiet salute to some observant commander up there.
Later, in the deep darkness, the army bivouacked near New Market.Headquarters was established in an old mill. Here a dripping courierunwrapped from a bit of cloth several leaves of the whitey-browntelegraph paper of the Confederacy and gave them into the general'shand.
Next morning, at roll call, each colonel spoke to his regiment. "Men!There has been a great battle before Richmond--at a place called SevenPines. Day before yesterday General Johnston attacked General McClellan.The battle raged all day with varying fortune. At sunset GeneralJohnston, in the thickest of the fight, was struck from his horse by ashell. He is desperately wounded; the country prays not mortally.General Lee is now in command of the Armies of Virginia. The battle wasresumed yesterday morning and lasted until late in the day. Each sideclaims the victory. Our loss is perhaps five thousand; we hold that theenemy's was as great. General McClellan has returned to his camp uponthe banks of the Chickahominy. Richmond is not taken.--The generalcommanding the Army of the Valley congratulates his men upon the partthey have played in the operations before our capital. At seven in themorning the chaplains of the respective regiments will hold divineservices."