The Long Roll
We fired those trains, those stores, those sheltering sheds!
And then we burned three transports on Pamunkey
And shook the troops at White House from their beds!
"Loud roars across our path the swollen Chickahominy
'Plunge in, Confeds! you were not born to drown.'
We danced past White Oak swamp, we danced past Fighting Joseph
Hooker!
We rode round McClellan from his sole to his crown!
"There are strange, strange folk who like the Infantry!
Men have been found to love Artillery.
McClellan's quoted thus 'In every family
There should exist a gunboat'--ah, but we,
Whom all arms else do heap with calumny,
Saying, 'Daily those damned centaurs put us up a tree!'
We insist upon the virtues of the Cavalry!
"Now, friends, I'm going! It was a beautiful raid! I always liked Little
Mac. He's a gentleman, and he's got a fine army. Except for poor Latane
we did not lose a man. But I left a general behind me."
"A general? General who--"
Stuart gave his golden laugh. "General Consternation."
The sun slipped lower. Two horsemen came in by the Deep Run road and
passed rapidly eastward through the town. The afternoon was warm, but
the foremost wore a great horseman's cloak. It made all outlines
indefinite and hid any insignia of rank. There was a hat or cap, too,
pulled low. It was dusty; he rode fast and in a cloud, and there came no
recognition. Out of the town, on the Nine-Mile road, he showed the
officer of the guard who stopped him a pass signed "R. E. Lee" and
entered the Confederate lines. "General Lee's headquarters?" They were
pointed out, an old house shaded by oaks. He rode hither, gave his horse
to the courier with him, and spoke to the aide who appeared. "Tell
General Lee, some one from the Valley."
The aide shot a quick glance, then opened a door to the left. "General
Lee will be at leisure presently. Will you wait here, sir?"
He from the Valley entered. It was a large, simply furnished room, with
steel engravings on the walls,--the 1619 House of Burgesses, Spotswood
on the Crest of the Blue Ridge with his Golden Horseshoe Knights,
Patrick Henry in Old St. John's, Jefferson writing the Declaration of
Independence, Washington receiving the Sword of Cornwallis. The windows
were open to the afternoon breeze and the birds were singing in a
rosebush outside. There were three men in the room. One having a large
frame and a somewhat heavy face kept the chair beside the table with a
kind of granite and stubborn air. He rested like a boulder on a mountain
slope; marked with old scars, only waiting to be set in motion again to
grind matters small. The second man, younger, slender, with a short red
beard, leaned against the window, smelled the roses, and listened to the
birds. The third, a man of forty, with a gentle manner and very honest
and kindly eyes, studied the engravings. All three wore the stars of
major-generals.
The man from the Valley, entering, dropped his cloak and showed the same
insignia. D. H. Hill, leaving the engravings, came forward and took him
by both hands. The two had married sisters; moreover each was possessed
of fiery religious convictions; and Hill, though without the genius of
the other, was a cool, intelligent, and determined fighter. The two had
not met since Jackson's fame had come upon him.
It clothed him now like a mantle. The man sitting by the table got
ponderously to his feet; the one by the window left the contemplation of
the rosebush. "You know one another by name only, I believe, gentlemen?"
said D. H. Hill. "General Jackson--General Longstreet, General Ambrose
Powell Hill."
The four sat down, Jackson resting his sabre across his knees. He had
upon him the dust of three counties; he was all one neutral hue like a
faded leaf, save that his eyes showed through, grey-blue, intense
enough, though quiet. He was worn to spareness.
Longstreet spoke in his heavy voice. "Well, general, Fate is making of
your Valley the Flanders of this war."
"God made it a highway, sir. We must take it as we find it."
"Well," said A. P. Hill, smiling, "since we have a Marlborough for that
Flanders--"
Jackson shifted the sabre a little. "Marlborough is not my _beau ideal_.
He had circumstances too much with him."
An inner door opened. "The artillery near Cold Harbour--" said a voice,
cadenced and manly. In a moment Lee entered. The four rose. He went
straight to Stonewall Jackson, laid one hand on his shoulder, the other
on his breast. The two had met, perhaps, in Mexico; not since. Now they
looked each other in the eyes. Both were tall men, though Lee was the
tallest; both in grey, both thin from the fatigue of the field. Here the
resemblance ended. Lee was a model of manly beauty. His form, like his
character, was justly proportioned; he had a great head, grandly based,
a face of noble sweetness, a step light and dauntless. There breathed
about him something knightly, something kingly, an antique glamour,
sunny shreds of the Golden Age. "You are welcome, General Jackson," he
said; "very welcome! You left Frederickshall--?"
"Last night, sir."
"The army is there?"
"It is there, sir."
"You have become a name to conjure with, general! I think that your
Valley will never forget you." He took a chair beside the table. "Sit
down, gentlemen. I have called this council, and now the sun is sinking
and General Jackson has far to ride, and we must hasten. Here are the
maps."
The major-generals drew about the table. Lee pinned down a map with the
small objects upon the board, then leaned back in his chair. "This is
our first council with General Jackson. We wait but for the Army of the
Valley to precipitate certainly one great battle, perhaps many battles.
I think that the fighting about Richmond will be heavier than all that
has gone before." An aide entered noiselessly with a paper in his hand.
"From the President, sir," he said. Lee rose and took the note to the
window. The four at table spoke together in low tones.
"It is the most difficult ground in the world," said A. P. Hill. "You'll
have another guess-time of it than in your Valley, general! No broad
pike through the marshes of the Chickahominy!"
"Are there good maps?"
"No," said Longstreet; "damned bad."
Jackson stiffened. D. H. Hill came in hastily. "It's rather difficult to
draw them accurately with a hundred and ten thousand Yankees lying
around loose. They should have been made last year."
Lee returned. "Yes, the next ten days will write a page in blood." He
sighed. "I do not like war, gentlemen. Now, to begin again! We are
agreed that to defend Richmond is imperative. When Richmond falls the
Confederacy falls. It is our capital and seat of government. Here only
have we railroad communications with the far South. Here are our
arsenals and military manufactories, our depots of supply, our treasury,
our hospitals, our refugee women and children. The place is our heart,
and arm and brain must guard it. Leave Richmond and we must withdraw
from Virginia. Abandon Virginia, and we can on our part no longer
threaten the northern capital. Then General Jackson cannot create a
panic every other day, nor will Stanton then withdraw on every fresh
alarm a division from McClellan."
He leaned his head on his hand, while with the firm fingers of the other
he measured the edge of the table. "No! It is the game of the two
capitals, and the board is the stretch of country between. To the end
they will attempt to reach Richmond. To the end we must prevent that
mate. Let us see their possible roads. Last year McDowell tried it by
Manassas, and he failed. It is a strategic point,--Manassas. There may
well be fighting there again. The road by Fredericksburg ... they have
not tried that yet, and yet it has a value. Now the road that McClellan
has taken,--by sea to Fortress Monroe, and so here before us by the
York, seeing that the Merrimac kept him from the James. It is the best
way yet, though with a modification it would be better! There is a key
position which I trust he'll not discover--"
"He won't," said D. H. Hill succinctly. "The fairies at his cradle
didn't give him intuition, and they made him extremely cautious. He's a
good fellow, though!"
Lee nodded. "I have very genuine respect for General McClellan. He is a
gentleman, a gallant soldier, and a good general." He pushed the map
before him away, and took another. "Of late Richmond's strongest defence
has been General Jackson in the Valley. Well! McDowell and Fremont and
Banks may be left awhile to guard that capital which is so very certain
it is in danger. I propose now to bring General Jackson suddenly upon
McClellan's right--"
Jackson, who had been holding himself with the rigidity of a warrior on
a tomb, slightly shifted the sabre and drew his chair an inch nearer the
commander-in-chief. "His right is on the north bank of the
Chickahominy--"
"Yes. General Stuart brought me much information that I desired. Fitz
John Porter commands there--the 5th Army Corps--twenty-five thousand
men. I propose, general, that you bring your troops as rapidly as
possible from Frederickshall to Ashland, that from Ashland you march by
the Ashcake road and Merry Oaks Church to the Totopotomoy Creek road and
that, moving by this to Beaver Dam Creek, you proceed to turn and
dislodge Porter and his twenty-five thousand, crumpling them back upon
McClellan's centre--here." He pointed with a quill which he took from
the ink-well.
"Good! good! And the frontal attack?"
"General A. P. Hill and his division will make that. The batteries on
the Chickahominy will cover his passage of the bridge. General
Longstreet will support him. General Magruder with General Huger and the
reserve artillery will be left before Richmond. They will so demonstrate
as to distract General McClellan's attention from the city and from his
right and General Porter. General Stuart will take position on your line
of march from Ashland, and General D. H. Hill will support you."
"Good! good! This is the afternoon of the twenty-third."
"Yes. Frederickshall is forty miles from this point--" He touched the
map again. "Now, general, when can you be here?"
"Thursday morning, the twenty-sixth, sir."
"That is very soon."
"Time is everything in war, sir."
"That is perfectly true. But the time is short and the manoeuvre
delicate. You and your troops are at the close of a campaign as arduous
as it is amazing. The fatigue and the strain must be great. You and
General Hill are far apart and the country between is rough and
unmapped. Yet victory depends on the simultaneous blow."
Jackson sat rigid again, his hand stiffly placed upon the sabre. "It is
not given to man to say with positiveness what he can do, sir. But it
is necessary that this right be turned before McClellan is aware of his
danger. Each day makes it more difficult to conceal the absence of my
army from the Valley. Between the danger of forced marching and the
obvious danger that lies in delay, I should choose the forced marching.
Better lose one man in marching than five in a battle not of our
selecting. A straw may bring failure as a straw may bring victory. I may
fail, but the risk should be taken. Napoleon failed at Eylau, but his
plan was correct."
"Very well," said Lee. "Then the morning of the twenty-sixth be it!
Final orders shall await you at Ashland."
Jackson rose. "Good! good! By now my horses will have been changed. I
will get back. The army was to advance this morning to Beaver Dam
Station."
He rode hard through the country all night, it being the second he had
spent in the saddle. Beaver Dam Station and the bivouacking Army of the
Valley saw him on Tuesday morning the twenty-fourth. "Old Jack's back