The Long Roll
1093, I believe?"
"Very probably, general. Has General Lee--"
"It has a commanding situation--an advantage which all of your
cathedrals do not possess. I liked the windows best at York. What do you
think, colonel?"
"I think that you are right, general. When your wars are over, I hope
that you will visit England again. I suppose that you cannot say how
soon that will be, sir?"
"No, sir. Only God can say that. I should like to see Ely and
Canterbury." He rose. "Gentlemen, it has been pleasant to meet you. I
hear the adjutant's call. If you would like to find out how my men
_drill_, Colonel Johnson may take you to the parade-ground."
Later, there arrived beneath the crimson gum four of Jeb Stuart's
officers, gallantly mounted and equipped, young and fine. To-day their
usual careless dash was tempered by something of important gravity; if
their eyes danced, it was beneath half-closed lids; they did not smile
outright, but their lips twitched. Behind them an orderly bore a long
pasteboard box. The foremost officer was Major Heros von Borcke, of
General Stuart's staff. All dismounted. Jackson came out of his tent.
The air was golden warm; the earth was level before the tent, and on the
carpet of small bright leaves was yet the table, the chair, the
camp-stool, and the boxes. It made a fine, out-of-door room of audience.
The cavalry saluted. Jackson touched the forage cap, and sat down. The
staff officer, simple, big, and genuine, stood forward. "Major Von
Borcke, is it not? Well, major, what is General Stuart about just now?"
"General, he is watching his old schoolmate, General McClellan. My
general, I come on a graceful errand, a little gift from General Stuart
bearing. He has so great an esteem and friendship for you, general; he
asks that you accept so slight a token of that esteem and friendship and
he would say affection, and he does say reverence. He says that from
Richmond he has for this sent--"
Major Heros von Borcke made a signal. The orderly advanced and placed
upon the pine table the box. The other cavalry officers stepped a little
nearer; two or three of Stonewall Jackson's military family came also
respectfully closer; the red gum leaves made a rustling underfoot.
"General Stuart is extremely kind," said Jackson. "I have a high esteem
for Jeb Stuart. You will tell him so, major."
Slowly, slowly, came off the lid. Slowly, slowly came away a layer of
silver paper. Where on earth they got--in Richmond in 1862--the gay box,
the silver paper, passes comprehension. The staff thought it looked
Parisian, and nursed the idea that it had once held a ball gown. Slowly,
slowly, out came the gift.
A startled sound, immediately suppressed, was uttered by the military
family. Lieutenant-General T. J. Jackson merely looked a stone wall. The
old servant Jim was now also upon the scene. "Fo' de Lawd!" said Jim.
"Er new nuniform!"
Fine grey cadet cloth, gold lace, silken facings, beautiful bright
buttons, sash, belt, gauntlets--the leaves rustled loudly, but a chuckle
from Jim in the background and a murmured "Dat are sumpin' like!" was
the only audible utterance. With empressement each article was lifted
from the box by Major Heros von Borcke and laid upon the pine boards
beneath Stonewall Jackson's eyes. The box emptied, Von Borcke, big,
simple, manly, gravely beaming, stepped back from the table. "For
General Jackson, with General Stuart's esteem and admiration!"
Stonewall Jackson, big, too, and to appearance simple, looked under the
forage cap, smiled, and with one lean brown finger touched almost
timidly the beautiful, spotless cadet cloth. "Major von Borcke, you will
give General Stuart my best thanks. He is, indeed, good. All this," he
gravely indicated the loaded table, "is much too fine for the hard work
I'd have to give it, and I shall have it put away for the present. But
you tell General Stuart, major, that I will take the best care of his
beautiful present, and that I will always prize it highly as a souvenir.
It is, I think, about one o'clock. You will stay to dinner with me, I
hope, major."
But the banks of the Opequon uttered a protest. "Oh, general!"--"My
general, you will hurt his feelings."--"General, just try it on, at
least!" "Let us have our way, sir, just this once! We have been right
good, haven't we? and we do so want to see you in it!"--"General Stuart
will certainly want to know how it fits--" "Please, sir,"--"_Gineral,
Miss Anna sholy would like ter see you in hit!_"
Ten minutes elapsed while the Opequon rippled by and the crimson gum
leaves drifted down, then somewhat bashfully from the tent came forth
Stonewall Jackson metamorphosed. Triumph perched upon the helms of the
staff and the visiting cavalry. "Oh!--Oh!--" "General Stuart will be so
happy!" "General, the review this afternoon! General, won't you review
us _that way_?"
He did. At first the men did not know him, then there mounted a wild
excitement. Suppressed with difficulty during the actual evolutions, it
burst into flower when the ranks were broken. The sun was setting in a
flood of gold; there hung a fairy light over the green fields and the
Opequon and the vivid woods. The place rang to the frolic shouting. It
had the most delighted sound. "Stonewall! Stonewall Jackson! Stonewall!
Stonewall! Old Jack! Old Jack! Old Jack!"
Old Jack touched his beautiful hat of a lieutenant-general. Little
Sorrel beneath him moved with a jerk of the head and a distended
nostril. The men noticed that, too. "He don't know him either! Oh, Lord!
Oh, Lord! Ain't life worth while? Ain't it grand?--Stonewall!
Stonewall!"
On went the gold October, passing at last in a rain and drift of leaves
into a russet November. The curls of wood smoke showed plainer down the
glades, the crows were cawing, the migratory birds going south, but the
days were yet mild and still, wrapped in a balm of pale sunshine, a
faint, purplish, Indian summer haze. The 2d Corps was hale and soberly
happy.
It was the chaplain's season. There occurred in the Army of Northern
Virginia a religious revival, a far-spread and lasting deepening of
feeling. For many nights in many forest glades there were "meetings"
with prayer and singing. "Old Hundred" floated through the air. From
tents and huts of boughs came the soldiers. They sat upon the earth,
thick carpeted now with the faded leaves, or upon gnarled, out-cropping
roots of oak and beech. Above shone the moon; there was a touch of frost
in the air. The chaplain had some improvised pulpit; a great fire, or
perhaps a torch fastened to a bough, gave light whereby to read the
Book. The sound of the voice, the sound of the singing, blended with the
voice of the Opequon rushing--all rushing toward the great Sea.
"Come, humble sinner, in whose breast
A thousand thoughts revolve--"
It made a low thunder, so many soldiers' voices. Always, on these
nights, in some glade or meadow, with some regiment or other, there was
found the commander of the 2d Corps. Beneath the cathedral roof of the
forest, or beneath the stars in the open, sat Stonewall Jackson,
worshipping the God of Battles. Undoubtedly he was really and deeply
happy. His place is on the Judean hills, with Joab and David and Abner.
Late in this November there came to him another joy. In North Carolina,
where his wife had gone, a child was born to him, his only child, a
daughter.
In the first half of October had occurred Jeb Stuart's brilliant
Monocacy raid, two days and a half within McClellan's lines. On the
twenty-sixth McClellan began the passage of the Potomac. He crossed near
Berlin, and Lee, assured now that the theatre of war would be east of
the Blue Ridge, dispatched Longstreet with the 1st Corps to Culpeper. On
the seventh of November McClellan was removed from the command of the
Army of the Potomac. It was given over to Burnside, and he took the
Fredericksburg route to Richmond.
The Army of the Potomac numbered one hundred and twenty-five thousand
men and officers and three hundred and twenty guns. At Washington were
in addition eighty thousand men, and up and down the Potomac twenty
thousand more. The Army of Northern Virginia in all, 1st and 2d Corps,
had seventy-two thousand men and officers and two hundred and
seventy-five guns. Lee called Stonewall Jackson to join Longstreet at
Fredericksburg.
On the twenty-second the 1st Corps quitted, amid smiles and tears, many
a "God keep you!" and much cheering, Winchester the beloved. Out swung
the long column upon the Valley pike. Advance and main and rear, horse
and foot and guns, Stonewall Jackson and his twenty-five thousand took
the old road. The men were happy. "Old road, old road, old road, howdy
do! How's your health, old lady? Haven't you missed us? Haven't you
missed us? We've missed _you_!"
It was Indian summer, violet, dream-like. By now there had been burning
and harrowing in the Valley; war had laid his mailed hand upon the
region. It was not yet the straining clutch of later days, but it was
bad enough. The Indian summer wrapped with a soft touch of mourning
purple much of desolation, much of untilled earth, and charred
roof-tree, and broken walls. The air was soft and gentle, lying balmy
and warm on the road and ragged fields, and the haze so hid the
distances that the column thought not so much of how the land was
scarred as of the memories that thronged on either side of the Valley
pike. "Kernstown! The field of Kernstown. There's Fulkerson's wall.
About five hundred years ago!"
Stonewall Jackson, riding in the van, may be supposed to have had his
memories, too. He did not express them. He was using expedition, and he
sent back orders. "Press forward, men! Press forward." He rode quietly,
forage cap pulled low; or, standing with Little Sorrel on some wayside
knoll, he watched for a while his thousands passing. Stuart's gay
present had taken the air but once. Here was the old familiar,
weather-worn array, leaf brown from sun and wind and dust and rain,
patched here and patched there, dull of buttons, and with the lace worn
off. Here were the old boots, the sabre, the forage cap; here were the
blue glint of the eye and the short "Good! good!" as the men passed. The
marching men shouted for him. He nodded, and having noted whatever it
was he had paused to note, shook Little Sorrel's bridle and stiffly
galloped to the van again.
Past Newtown, past Middletown, on to Strasburg--the Massanuttons loomed
ahead, all softly coloured yet with reds and golds. "Massanutton!
Massanutton!" said the troops. "We've seen you before, and you've seen
us before! Front Royal's at your head and Port Republic's at your feet."
"In Virginia there's a Valley,
Valley, Valley!
Where all day the war drums beat,
Beat, Beat!
And the soldiers love the Valley
Valley, Valley!
And the Valley loves the soldiers,
Soldiers, soldiers!"
Past Strasburg, past Tom's Brook, past Rude's Hill--through the still
November days, in the Indian summer weather, the old Army of the Valley,
the old Ewell's Division, the Light Division, D. H. Hill's Division,
moved up the Valley Pike. All were now the 2d Corps, Stonewall Jackson
riding at its head. The people--the people were mostly women and
children--flocked to the great highroad to bring the army things, to
wave it onward, to say "God bless you!"--"God keep you!"--"God make you
to conquer!"
The 2d Corps passed Woodstock, and Edenburg, and Mt. Jackson, and came
to New Market, and here it turned eastward. "Going to leave you,"
chanted the troops. "Going to leave you, old road, old road! Take care
of yourself till we come again!"