III. STONEWALL JACKSON AND THE VALLEY IN obedience to orders, I marched my brigade to New Market, on May 21, 1862, and sought Jackson, whom I had never met. This officer by no means held the place in public estimation he subsequently attained. His march on Romney in the previous winter had resulted in nothing except to freeze and discontent his troops. This discontent was shared and expressed by the Government at Richmond, and Jackson resigned. The influence of Colonel Alek Boteler, seconded by that of the Governor of Virginia (Letcher), alone induced him to withdraw his resignation. A figure, perched on the topmost rail of a fence, overlooking the road and field, was pointed out as Jackson. Approaching, I saluted and declared my name and rank; then waited for a response. Before this came, I had time to see a pair of cavalry-boots covering feet of gigantic size, a mangy cap, with visor drawn low, a heavy, dark beard, and weary eyes-eyes I afterward saw filled with intense but never brilliant light. A low, gentle voice inquired the distance and road marched that day. "Six-and-twenty miles-Keazletown road." "You seem to have no stragglers?" "Never allow stragglers." "You must teach my people. They straggle badly." A bow in reply. Just then, my creoles started their band and a waltz. After a contemplative suck at a lemon, "Thoughtless fellows for serious work" came forth. I expressed a hope that the work would not be less well done because of the gayety. A return to the lemon gave me an opportunity to retire. Where Jackson got his lemons "no fellow could find out," but he was rarely without one. To live twelve miles from that fruit would have disturbed him as much as it did the witty dean. Quite late that night, General Jackson came to my camp-fire, where he remained some hours. He said we would move at dawn, asked a few questions about the marching of my men, which seemed to have impressed him, and then remained silent. If silence be golden, he was a "bonanza." He sucked lemons, ate hard-tack, and drank water, and, I imagine, his idea of the "whole duty of man" was praying and fighting. In the gray of the morning, as I was forming my column on the pike, Jackson appeared and gave the route north, which, from the situation of its camp, put my brigade in advance of the army. After moving some little time in this direction, the head of the column was turned short to the east, and took the road to Luray over Massanutten Gap. Jackson rode with me during the day. From time to time, a courier would gallop up, report and return toward Luray. Scarcely a word was spoken on the march. An ungraceful horseman, mounted on a sorry chestnut with a shambling gait, his huge feet, with out-turned toes, thrust into the stirrups, and such parts of his countenance as the low visor of his shocking cap failed to conceal wearing a wooden look, our new commander was not prepossessing. That night, we crossed the east branch of the Shenandoah, on a bridge near Luray, and camped near the stream. Here, after three long marches, we were but a short distance below the bridge at Conrad's Store-a point we had left several days before. I began to think that Jackson was a concealed, perhaps unconscious poet, and, as an ardent lover of Nature, desired to give strangers an opportunity to admire the beauties of his Valley. It seemed hard lines to be wandering, like sentimental travelers, about the country instead of gaining "kudos" on the Peninsula. Off the next morning, my command still in advance, and Jackson riding with me. The road ran north between the east bank of the river and the western base of Blue Ridge. Rain had fallen and softened it, so that the wagon-trains in the rear were delayed. Not long after mid-day we reached a wood extending from the mountain to the river. Just here, a mounted officer from the rear called Jackson's attention, who rode back with him. A moment later, there rushed out of the wood to meet us a young, rather well-looking woman afterward widely known as Belle Boyd. Breathless with speed and agitation, some little time elapsed before she found her voice. Then, with much volubility, she said we were near Front Royal -beyond the wood-that the town was filled with Federals, whose camp was on the west side of the river, where they had guns in position to cover the wagon-bridge, but none bearing on the railway-bridge below the former; that the Federals were ignorant of our approach, and believed that Jackson was west of Massanutten-near New Market and Harrisonburg; that General Banks, the Federal commander, was at Winchester, twenty miles northwest of Front Royal, where he was slowly concentrating his widely-scattered forces to meet Jackson's advance, which was expected some days later. All this she told with the precision of a staff-officer making a report, and it was true to the letter. Jackson was possessed of these facts before he left New Market, and based his movements on them, but, as he never told anything, it was news to me, and gave me an idea of the strategic value of Massanutten, pointed out, indeed, by Washington before the Revolution. There also dawned on me quite another view of our leader than the one from which I had been regarding him for two days past. Convinced of the correctness of the woman's statements, I hurried forward at "a double," hoping to surprise the enemy's idlers in the town, or swarm over the wagon-bridge with them and secure it. Doubtless this was rash, but I was immensely "cocky" about my brigade, and believed it would prove equal to any demand. Before we had cleared the wood, Jackson came galloping from the rear, followed by a company of horse. Halting, he ordered me to deploy my leading regiment as skirmishers on both sides of the road, and continue the advance-then passed on. We speedily came in sight of Front Royal. The enemy had taken the alarm, and his men were skurrying across the upper bridge to their camp, where troops could be seen forming. The situation of the village is surpassingly beautiful. It lies near the east bank of the Shenandoah, which just below unites all its waters, and looks directly on the northern peaks of Massanutten. Blue Ridge, with Manassas Gap-through which passes the railway—overhangs on the east, distant Alleghany bounds the horizon to the west, and down the Shenandoah the eye wanders over a fertile, well-farmed country. Two bridges spanned the river—a road or wagon bridge above, a railway some yards lower down. A fine pike led to Winchester, twenty miles. Another followed the river north, and from this many cross-roads united with the Valley pike at Winchester, and north and south of that place. The river, swollen by rain, was deep and turbulent, with strong current. The Federals were posted on the west bank-here somewhat higher than the opposite-and a short distance above the junction of waters, with batteries bearing more especially on the upper bridge. Under instructions, my brigade was drawn up in line, a little retired from the river, but overlooking it, the Federals and their guns in full view. So far, not a shot had been fired. I rode down to the river's brink to get a better look at the enemy through a field-glass, when my horse, heated by the march, stepped into the water to drink. Instantly a brisk fire was opened on me, bullets striking all around, and raising a little shower-bath. Like many a foolish fellow, I found it easier to get into than out of a difficulty. I had not yet led my command into action, and remembering that one must "strut" one's little part on the stage to the best advantage, sat my horse with all the composure I could muster. A provident camel, on the eve of a desert-journey, would not have laid in a greater supply of water than did my thoughtless beast. At last, he raised his head, looked placidly around, turned, and walked up the bank. This little incident was not without value, for my men welcomed me with a sudden cheer, upon which, as if in response, the enemy's guns opened, and having the range, inflicted some loss on my line. We had no guns up to reply, and in advance, as has been mentioned, had outmarched the troops behind us. Motionless as a statue, Jackson sat his horse some few yards away, and seemed lost in thought. Perhaps the circumstances mentioned some lines back had obscured his star. If so, a few short hours swept away the cloud, and it blazed, like Sirius, over the land. I approached him with the suggestion that the railway-bridge might be crossed by stepping on the cross-ties, as the enemy's guns bore less directly on it than on the upper bridge. He nodded approval. The Eighth Louisiana was on the right of my line, near at hand. Dismounting, Colonel Kelley led his regiment across, under a sharp musketry-fire. Several men fell, to disVOL. CXXVI.-NO. 261. 16 appear in the dark water beneath; but the movement continued with great rapidity, considering the difficulty of walking on ties, and Kelley, with his leading files, gained the shore; whereupon the enemy fired combustibles previously placed near the centre of the upper bridge. The loss of this structure would have seriously delayed us, as the railway-bridge was not floored; and I looked at Jackson, who was near by, watching Kelley's progress. He nodded at me again, and my command rushed at the bridge. Concealed by the cloud of smoke, the suddenness of the movement saved us from much loss, but it was rather a near thing. My horse and clothing were scorched, and some of the men burned their hands severely throwing brands into the river. We were soon over, and the enemy in full flight to Winchester, with the loss of camp, some guns, and prisoners. Just as I emerged from flames and smoke, Jackson was by my side. How he got there was a mystery, as the bridge was thronged with my men, going at "a double;" but I remember thinking his costume was improved by fire. We followed the enemy on the Winchester road, but to little purpose, as we had few cavalry over the river. Carried away by his ardor, my commissary, Major Davis, gathered a score of mounted orderlies and couriers, and followed on the track. A volley from the enemy's rear-guard laid him low on the road, shot through the head. We buried him in a field near the place of his fall. He was much beloved by the command, and many gathered quietly around the grave. As there was no chaplain at hand, I repeated such portions of the service for the dead as a long neglect of pious things enabled me to recall. Late in the night Jackson came out of the darkness and seated himself by my fire. He mentioned that I would move with him at dawn, then relapsed into silence. I fancied he looked at me kindly, and interpreted this into an approval of the conduct of my brigade. The events of the day, anticipations of the morrow, the death of Davis, drove away sleep, and I watched Jackson. For hours he sat silent and motionless, with eyes fixed on the fire. I took up the idea that he was inwardly praying, and he continued throughout the night. Off in the morning-Jackson leading the way-my brigade, a small body of horse, and a section of the Rockbridge (Virginia) Artillery, forming the column. I directed Major Wheat, with |