THE SHADES OF THE WILDERNESS
A STORY OF LEE'S GREAT STAND
by JOSEPH A. ALTSHELER
FOREWORD
"The Shades of the Wilderness" is the seventh volume of the Civil War
Series, of which the predecessors have been "The Guns of Bull Run,"
"The Guns of Shiloh," "The Scouts of Stonewall," "The Sword of
Antietam", "The Star of Gettysburg" and "The Rock of Chickamauga." The
romance in this story reverts to the Southern side and deals with the
fortunes of Harry Kenton and his friends. It takes them on the retreat
from Gettysburg, gives the hero a short period of social life in
Richmond, describes the great battles of the Wilderness and
Spottsylvania, and ends with the deadlock in the trenches before
Petersburg.
THE CIVIL WAR SERIES
VOLUMES IN THE CIVIL WAR SERIES
THE GUNS OF BULL RUN.
THE GUNS OF SHILOH.
THE SCOUTS OF STONEWALL.
THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM.
THE STAR OF GETTYSBURG.
THE ROCK OF CHICKAMAUGA.
THE SHADES OF THE WILDERNESS.
THE TREE OF APPOMATTOX.
PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS IN THE CIVIL WAR SERIES
HARRY KENTON, A Lad Who Fights on the Southern Side.
DICK MASON, Cousin of Harry Kenton, Who Fights on the Northern Side.
COLONEL GEORGE KENTON, Father of Harry Kenton.
MRS. MASON, Mother of Dick Mason.
JULIANA, Mrs. Mason's Devoted Colored Servant.
COLONEL ARTHUR WINCHESTER, Dick Mason's Regimental Commander.
COLONEL LEONIDAS TALBOT, Commander of the Invincibles,
a Southern Regiment.
LIEUTENANT COLONEL HECTOR ST. HILAIRE, Second in Command of the
Invincibles.
ALAN HERTFORD, A Northern Cavalry Leader.
PHILIP SHERBURNE, A Southern Cavalry Leader.
WILLIAM J. SHEPARD, A Northern Spy.
DANIEL WHITLEY, A Northern Sergeant and Veteran of the Plains.
GEORGE WARNER, A Vermont Youth Who Loves Mathematics.
FRANK PENNINGTON, A Nebraska Youth, Friend of Dick Mason.
ARTHUR ST. CLAIR, A Native of Charleston, Friend of Harry Kenton.
TOM LANGDON, Friend of Harry Kenton.
GEORGE DALTON, Friend of Harry Kenton.
BILL SKELLY, Mountaineer and Guerrilla.
TOM SLADE, A Guerrilla Chief.
SAM JARVIS, The Singing Mountaineer.
IKE SIMMONS, Jarvis' Nephew.
AUNT "SUSE," A Centenarian and Prophetess.
BILL PETTY, A Mountaineer and Guide.
JULIEN DE LANGEAIS, A Musician and Soldier from Louisiana.
JOHN CARRINGTON, Famous Northern Artillery Officer.
DR. RUSSELL, Principal of the Pendleton School.
ARTHUR TRAVERS, A Lawyer.
JAMES BERTRAND, A Messenger from the South.
JOHN NEWCOMB, A Pennsylvania Colonel.
JOHN MARKHAM, A Northern Officer.
JOHN WATSON, A Northern Contractor.
WILLIAM CURTIS, A Southern Merchant and Blockade Runner.
MRS. CURTIS, Wife of William Curtis.
HENRIETTA CARDEN, A Seamstress in Richmond.
DICK JONES, A North Carolina Mountaineer.
VICTOR WOODVILLE, A Young Mississippi Officer.
JOHN WOODVILLE, Father of Victor Woodville.
CHARLES WOODVILLE, Uncle of Victor Woodville.
COLONEL BEDFORD, A Northern Officer.
CHARLES GORDON, A Southern Staff Officer.
JOHN LANHAM, An Editor.
JUDGE KENDRICK, A Lawyer.
MR. CULVER, A State Senator.
MR. BRACKEN, A Tobacco Grower.
ARTHUR WHITRIDGE, A State Senator.
HISTORICAL CHARACTERS
ABRAHAM LINCOLN, President of the United States.
JEFFERSON DAVIS, President of the Southern Confederacy.
JUDAH P. BENJAMIN, Member of the Confederate Cabinet.
U. S. GRANT, Northern Commander.
ROBERT E. LEE, Southern Commander.
STONEWALL JACKSON, Southern General.
PHILIP H. SHERIDAN, Northern General.
GEORGE H. THOMAS, "The Rock of Chickamauga."
ALBERT SIDNEY JOHNSTON, Southern General.
A. P. HILL, Southern General.
W. S. HANCOCK, Northern General.
GEORGE B. McCLELLAN, Northern General.
AMBROSE E. BURNSIDE, Northern General.
TURNER ASHBY, Southern Cavalry Leader.
J. E. B. STUART, Southern Cavalry Leader.
JOSEPH HOOKER, Northern General.
RICHARD S. EWELL, Southern General.
JUBAL EARLY, Southern General.
WILLIAM S. ROSECRANS, Northern General.
SIMON BOLIVAR BUCKNER, Southern General.
LEONIDAS POLK, Southern General and Bishop.
BRAXTON BRAGG, Southern General.
NATHAN BEDFORD FORREST, Southern Cavalry Leader.
JOHN MORGAN, Southern Cavalry Leader.
GEORGE J. MEADE, Northern General.
DON CARLOS BUELL, Northern General.
W. T. SHERMAN, Northern General.
JAMES LONGSTREET, Southern General.
P. G. T. BEAUREGARD, Southern General.
WILLIAM L. YANCEY, Alabama Orator.
JAMES A. GARFIELD, Northern General, afterwards President of
the United States.
And many others
IMPORTANT BATTLES DESCRIBED IN THE CIVIL WAR SERIES
BULL RUN
KERNSTOWN
CROSS KEYS
WINCHESTER
PORT REPUBLIC
THE SEVEN DAYS
MILL SPRING
FORT DONELSON
SHILOH
PERRYVILLE
STONE RIVER
THE SECOND MANASSAS
ANTIETAM
FREDERICKSBURG
CHANCELLORSVILLE
GETTYSBURG
CHAMPION HILL
VICKSBURG
CHICKAMAUGA
MISSIONARY RIDGE
THE WILDERNESS
SPOTTSYLVANIA
COLD HARBOR
FISHER'S HILL
CEDAR CREEK
APPOMATTOX
CONTENTS
I. THE SOUTHERN RETREAT
II. THE NORTHERN SPY
III. THE FLOODED RIVER
IV. A HERALD TO LEE
V. THE DANGEROUS ROAD
VI. TESTS OF COURAGE
VII. IN THE WAGON
VIII. THE CROSSING
IX. IN SOCIETY
X. THE MISSING PAPER
XI. A VAIN PURSUIT
XII. IN WINTER QUARTERS
XIII. THE COMING OF GRANT
XIV. THE GHOSTLY RIDE
XV. THE WILDERNESS
XVI. SPOTTSYLVANIA
THE SHADES OF THE WILDERNESS
CHAPTER I
THE SOUTHERN RETREAT
A train of wagons and men wound slowly over the hills in the darkness
and rain toward the South. In the wagons lay fourteen or fifteen
thousand wounded soldiers, but they made little noise, as the wheels
sank suddenly in the mud or bumped over stones. Although the vast
majority of them were young, boys or not much more, they had learned to
be masters of themselves, and they suffered in silence, save when some
one, lost in fever, uttered a groan.
But the chief sound was a blended note made by the turning of wheels,
and the hoofs of horses sinking in the soft earth. The officers gave
but few orders, and the cavalrymen who rode on either flank looked
solicitously into the wagons now and then to see how their wounded
friends fared, though they seldom spoke. The darkness they did not
mind, because they were used to it, and the rain and the coolness were
a relief, after three days of the fiercest battle the American
continent had ever known, fought in the hottest days that the troops
could recall.
Thus Lee's army drew its long length from the fatal field of
Gettysburg, although his valiant brigades did not yet know that the
clump of trees upon Cemetery Hill had marked the high tide of the
Confederacy. All that memorable Fourth of July, following the close of
the battle they had lain, facing Meade and challenging him to come on,
confident that while the invasion of the North was over they could beat
back once more the invasion of the South.
They had no word of complaint against their great commander, Lee. The
faith in him, which was so high, remained unbroken, as it was destined
to remain so to the last. But men began to whisper to one another, and
say if only Jackson had been there. They mourned anew that terrible
evening in the Wilderness when Lee had lost his mighty lieutenant, his
striking arm, the invincible Stonewall. If the man in the old slouch
hat had only been with Lee on Seminary Ridge it would now be the army
of Meade retreating farther into the North, and they would be pursuing.
That belief was destined to sink deep in the soul of the South, and
remain there long after the Confederacy was but a name.
The same thought was often in the mind of Harry Kenton, as he rode near
the rear of the column, whence he had been sent by Lee to observe and
then to report. It was far after midnight now, and the last of the
Southern army could not leave Seminary Ridge before morning. But Harry
could detect no sign of pursuit. Now and then, a distant gun boomed,
and the thunder muttered on the horizon, as if in answer. But there
was nothing to indicate that the Army of the Potomac was moving from
Gettysburg in pursuit, although the President in Washington, his heart
filled with bitterness, was vainly asking why his army would not reap
the fruits of a victory won so hardly. Fifty thousand men had fallen
on the hills and in the valleys about Gettysburg, and it seemed, for
the time, that nothing would come of such a slaughter. But the
Northern army had suffered immense losses, and Lee and his men were
ready to fight again if attacked. Perhaps it was wiser to remain
content upon the field with their sanguinary success. At least, Meade
and his generals thought so.
Harry, toward morning came upon St. Clair and Langdon riding together.
Both had been wounded slightly, but their hurts had not kept them from
the saddle, and they were in cheerful mood.
"You've been further back than we, Harry," said St. Clair. "Is Meade
hot upon our track? We hear the throb of a cannon now and then."
"It doesn't mean anything. Meade hasn't moved. While we didn't win we
struck the Yankees such a mighty blow that they'll have to rest, and
breathe a while before they follow."
"And I guess we need a little resting and breathing ourselves," said
Langdon frankly. "There were times when I thought the whole world had
just turned itself into a volcano of fire."
"But we'll come back again," said St. Clair. "We'll make these
Pennsylvania Dutchmen take notice of us a second time."
"That's the right spirit," said Langdon. "Arthur had nearly all of his
fine uniform shot off him, but he's managed to fasten the pieces
together, and ride on, just as if it were brand new."
But Harry was silent. The prescient spirit of his famous great
grandfather, Henry Ware, had descended upon his valiant great grandson.
Hope had not gone from him, but it did not enter his mind that they
should invade Pennsylvania again.
"I'm glad to leave Gettysburg," he said. "More good men of ours have
fallen there than anywhere else."
"That's true," said St. Clair, "but Marse Bob will win for us, anyhow.
You don't think any of these Union generals here in the East can whip
our Lee, do you?"
"Of course not!" said Happy Tom. "Besides, Lee has me to help him."
"How are Colonel Talbot and Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire?" asked
Harry.
"Sound asleep, both of 'em," replied St. Clair. "And it's a strange
thing, too. They were sitting in a wagon, having resumed that game of
chess which they began in the Valley of Virginia, but they were so
exhausted that both fell sound asleep while playing. They are sitting
upright, as they sleep, and Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire's thumb and
forefinger rest upon a white pawn that he intended to move."
"I hope they won't be jarred out of their rest and that they'll sleep
on," said Harry. "Nobody deserves it more."
He waved a hand to his friends and continued his ride toward the rear.
The column passed slowly on in silence. Now and then gusts of rain
lashed across his face, but he liked the feeling. It was a fillip to
his blood, and his nerves began to recover from the tremendous strain
and excitement of the last four days.
Obeying his orders he rode almost directly back toward the field of
Gettysburg from which the Southern forces were still marching. A
friendly voice from a little wood hailed him, and he recognized it at
once as that of Sherburne, who sat his horse alone among the trees.
"Come here, Harry," he said.
"Glad to find you alive, Sherburne. Where's your troop?"
"What's left of it is on ahead. I'll join the men in a few minutes.
But look back there!"
Harry from the knoll, which was higher than he had thought, gazed upon
a vast and dusky panorama. Once more the field of Gettysburg swam
before him, not now in fire and smoke, but in vapors and misty rain.
When he shut his eyes he saw again the great armies charging on the
slopes, the blazing fire from hundreds of cannon and a hundred thousand
rifles. There, too, went Pickett's brigades, devoted to death but never
flinching. A sob burst from his throat, and he opened his eyes again.
"You feel about it as I do," said Sherburne. "We'll never come back
into the North."
"It isn't merely a feeling within me, I know it."
"So do I, but we can still hold Virginia."
"I think so, too. Come, we'd better turn. There goes the field of
Gettysburg. The rain and mist have blotted it out."
The panorama, the most terrible upon which Harry had ever looked,
vanished in the darkness. The two rode slowly from the knoll and into
the road.
"It will be daylight in an hour," said Sherburne, "and by that time the
last of our men will be gone."
"And I must hasten to our commander-in-chief," said Harry.
"How is he?" asked Sherburne. "Does he seem downcast?"
"No, he holds his head as high as ever, and cheers the men. They say
that Pickett's charge was a glorious mistake, but he takes all the
blame for it, if there is any. He doesn't criticize any of his
generals."
"Only a man of the greatest moral grandeur could act like that. It's
because of such things that our people, boys, officers and all, will
follow him to the death."
"Good-by, Sherburne," said Harry. "Hope I'll see you again soon."
He urged his horse into a faster gait, anxious to overtake Lee and
report that all was well with the rear guard. He noticed once more,
and with the greatest care that long line of the wounded and the
unwounded, winding sixteen miles across the hills from Gettysburg to
Chambersburg, and his mind was full of grave thoughts. More than two
years in the very thick of the greatest war, then known, were
sufficient to make a boy a man, at least in intellect and
responsibility.
Harry saw very clearly, as he rode beside the retreating but valiant
army that had failed in its great attempt, that their role would be the
defensive. For a little while he was sunk in deep depression. Then
invincible youth conquered anew, and hope sprang up again. The night
was at the darkest, but dawn was not far away. Fugitive gusts of wind
drenched him once more, but he did not mind it, nor did he pay any
attention to the occasional growl of a distant gun. He was strong in
the belief that Meade would not pursue--at least not yet. A general
who had just lost nearly one-third of his own army was not in much
condition to follow his enemy.
He urged his horse to increased speed, and pressed on toward the head
of the column. The rain ceased and cool puffs of wind came out of the
east. Then the blackness there turned to gray, which soon deepened into
silver. Through the silver veil shot a bolt of red fire, and the sun
came over the hills.
Although the green world had been touched with brown by the hot sun of
July it looked fresh and beautiful to Harry. The brown in the morning
sunlight was a rosy red, and the winds of dawn were charged with life.
His horse, too, felt the change and it was easy now to force him into a
gallop toward a fire on a low hill, which Harry felt sure had been
built to cook breakfast for their great commander.
As he approached he saw Lee and his generals standing before the blaze,
some eating, and others drinking. An orderly, near by, held the
commander's famous horse, Traveller, and two or three horses belonging
to the other generals were trying to find a little grass between the
stony outcrops of the hills. Harry felt an overwhelming curiosity, but
he kept it in restraint, dismounting at a little distance, and
approaching on foot.
He could not observe much change in the general's appearance. His
handsome gray suit was as neat as ever, and the three stars, the only
marks of his rank that he wore, shone untarnished upon his collar. The
dignified and cheerful manner that marked him before Gettysburg marked
him also afterward. To Harry, so young and so thoroughly charged with
the emotions of his time and section, he was a figure to be approached
with veneration.
He saw the stalwart and bearded Longstreet and other generals whom he
knew, among them the brilliant Stuart in his brilliant plumage, but
rather quiet and subdued in manner now, since he had not come to
Gettysburg as soon as he was needed. Harry hung back a little, fearing
lest he might be regarded as thrusting himself into a company so much
his superior in rank, but Lee saw him and beckoned to him.
"I sent you back toward Gettysburg to report on our withdrawal,
Lieutenant Kenton," he said.
"Yes, sir. I returned all the way to the field. The last of our
troops should be leaving there just about now. The Northern army had
made no preparation for immediate pursuit."
"Your report agrees with all the others that I have received. How long
have you been without sleep?"
"I don't know, sir," he said at last. "I can't remember. Maybe it has
been two or three days."
Stuart, who held a cup of coffee in his hand, laughed. "The times have
been such that there are generals as well as lieutenants," he said,
"who can't remember when they've slept."
"You're exhausted, my lad," said Lee gravely and kindly, "and there's
nothing more you can do for us just now. Take some breakfast with us,
and then you must sleep in one of the wagons. An orderly will look
after your horse."
Lee handed him a cup of coffee with his own hand, and Harry, thanking
him, withdrew to the outer fringe of the little group, where he took
his breakfast, amazed to find how hungry he was, although he had not
thought of food before. Then without a word, as he saw that the
generals were engrossed in a conference, he withdrew.
"You'll find Lieutenant Dalton of the staff in the covered wagon over
there," said the orderly who had taken his horse. "The general sent
him to it more'n two hours ago."
"Then I'll be inside it in less than two minutes," said Harry.
But with rest in sight he collapsed suddenly. His head fell forward of
its own weight. His feet became lead. Everything swam before his
eyes. He felt that he must sleep or die. But he managed to drag
himself to the wagon and climbed inside. Dalton lay in the center of
it so sound asleep that he was like one dead. Harry rolled him to one
side, making room for himself, and lay down beside him. Then his eyes
closed, and he, too, slept so soundly that he also looked like one dead.
He was awakened by Dalton pulling at him. The young Virginian was
sitting up and looking at Harry with curiosity. He clapped his hands
when the Kentuckian opened his eyes.
"Now I know that you're not dead," he said. "When I woke up and found
you lying beside me I thought they had just put your body in here for
safekeeping. As that's not the case, kindly explain to me and at once
what you're doing in my wagon."
"I'm waking up just at present, but for an hour or two before that I
was sleeping."
"Hour or two? Hour or two? Hear him! An orderly who I know is no
liar told me that you got in here just after dawn. Now kindly lift
that canvasflap, look out and tell me what you see."
Harry did as he was told, and was amazed. The same rolling landscape
still met his eyes, and the sun was just about as high in the sky as it
was when he had climbed into the wagon. But it was in the west now
instead of the east.
"See and know, young man!" said Dalton, paternally. "The entire day
has elapsed and here you have lain in ignorant slumber, careless of
everything, reckless of what might happen to the army. For twelve
hours General Lee has been without your advice, and how, lacking it, he
has got this far, Heaven alone knows."
"It seems that he's pulled through, and, since I'm now awake, you can
hurry to him and tell him I'm ready to furnish the right plans to stop
the forthcoming Yankee invasion."
"They'll keep another day, but we've certainly had a good sleep, Harry."
"Yes, a provision or ammunition wagon isn't a bad place for a wornout
soldier. I remember I slept in another such as this in the Valley of
Virginia, when we were with Jackson."
He stopped suddenly and choked. He could not mention the name of
Jackson, until long afterward, without something rising in his throat.
The driver obscured a good deal of the front view, but he suddenly
turned a rubicund and smiling face upon them.
"Waked up, hev ye?" he exclaimed. "Wa'al it's about time. I've looked
back from time to time an' I wuzn't at all shore whether you two
gen'rals wuz alive or dead. Sometimes when the wagon slanted a lot you
would roll over each other, but it didn't seem to make no diffunce.
Pow'ful good sleepers you are."
"Yes," said Harry. "We're two of the original Seven Sleepers."
"I don't doubt that you are two, but they wuz more'n seven."
"How do you know?"
"'Cause at least seven thousand in this train have been sleepin' as
hard as you wuz. I guess you mean the 'rig'nal Seventy Thousand
Sleepers."
Harry's spirits had returned after his long sleep. He was a lad again.
The weight of Gettysburg no longer rested upon him. The Army of
Northern Virginia had merely made a single failure. It would strike
again and again, as hard as ever.
"It's true that we've been slumbering," he said, "but we're as wide
awake now as ever, Mr. Driver."
"My name ain't Driver," said the man.
"Then what is it?"
"Jones, Dick Jones, which I hold to be a right proper name."
"Not romantic, but short, simple and satisfying."
"I reckon so. Leastways, I've never wanted to change it. I'm from
No'th Calliny, an' I've been followin' Bobby Lee a pow'ful long
distance from home. Fine country up here in Pennsylvany, but I'd
ruther be back in them No'th Calliny mountains. You two young gen'rals
may think it's an easy an' safe job drivin' a wagon loaded with
ammunition. But s'pose you have to drive it right under fire, as you
most often have to do, an' then if a shell or somethin' like it hits
your wagon the whole thing goes off kerplunk, an' whar are you?"
"It's a sudden an' easy death," said Dalton, philosophically.
"Too sudden an' too easy. I don't mind tellin' you that seein' men
killed an' wounded is a spo't that's beginnin' to pall on me. Reckon
I've had enough of it to last me for the next thousand years. I've
forgot, if I ever knowed, what this war wuz started about. Say, young
fellers, I've got a wife back thar, a high-steppin', fine-lookin' gal
not more'n twenty years old--I'm just twenty-five myself, an' we've got
a year-old baby the cutest that wuz ever born. Now, when I wuz lookin'
at that charge of Pickett's men, an' the whole world wuz blazin' with
fire, an' all the skies wuz rainin' steel and lead, an' whar grass
growed before, nothin' but bayonets wuz growin' then, do you know what
I seed sometimes?"
"What was it?" asked Harry.
"Fur a secon' all that hell of fire an' smoke an' killin' would float
away, an' I seed our mountain, with the cove, an' the trees, an' the
green grass growin' in it, an' the branch, with the water so clear you
could see your face in it, runnin' down the center, an' thar at the
head of the cove my cabin, not much uv a buildin' to look at, no
towerin' mansion, but just a stout two-room log cabin that the snows
an' hails of winter can't break into, an' in the door wuz standin' Mary
with the hair flyin' about her face, an' her eyes shinin', with the
little feller in her arms, lookin' at me 'way off as I come walkin'
fast down the cove toward 'em, returnin' from the big war."
There was a moment's silence, and Dalton said gruffly to hide his
feelings:
"Dick Jones, by the time this war is over, and you go walking down the
cove toward your home, a man with mustache and side whiskers will come
forward to meet you, and he'll be that son of yours."
But Dick Jones cheerfully shook his head.
"The war ain't goin' to last that long," he said confidently, "an' I
ain't goin' to git killed. What I saw will come true, 'cause I feel it
so strong."
"There ought to be a general law forbidding a man with a young wife and
baby to go to a war," said Harry.
"But they ain't no sich law," said Dick Jones, in his optimistic tone,
"an' so we needn't worry 'bout it. But if you two gen'rals should
happen along through the mountains uv western No'th Calliny after the
war I'd like fur you to come to my cabin, an' see Mary an' the baby an'
me. Our cove is named Jones' Cove, after my father, an' the branch that
runs through it runs into Jones' Creek, an' Jones' Creek runs into the
Yadkin River an' our county is Yadkin. Oh, you could find it plumb
easy, if two sich great gen'rals as you wuzn't ashamed to eat sweet
pertaters an' ham an' turkey an' co'n pone with a wagon driver like me."
Harry saw, despite his playful method of calling them generals, that he
was thoroughly in earnest, and he was more moved than he would have
been willing to confess.
"Too proud!" he said. "Why, we'd be glad!"
"Mebbe your road will lead that way," said Jones. "An' ef you do, jest
remember that the skillet's on the fire, an' the latch string is
hangin' outside the do'."
The allusion to the mountains made Harry's mind travel far back, over
an almost interminable space of time now, it seemed, when he was yet a
novice in war, to the home of Sam Jarvis, deep in the Kentucky
mountains, and the old, old woman who had said to him as he left: "You
will come again, and you will be thin and pale, and in rags, and you
will fall at the door. I see you coming with these two eyes of mine."
A little shiver passed over him. He knew that no one could penetrate
the future, but he shivered nevertheless, and he found himself saying
mechanically:
"It's likely that I'll return through the mountains, and if so I'll
look you up at that home in the cove on the brook that runs into Jones'
Creek."
"That bein' settled," said Jones, "what do you gen'rals reckon to do
jest now, after havin' finished your big sleep?"
"Your wagon is about to lose the first two passengers it has ever
carried," replied Harry. "Orderlies have our horses somewhere. We
belong on the staff of General Lee."
"An' you see him an' hear him talk every day? Some people are pow'ful
lucky. I guess you'll say a lot about it when you're old men."
"We're going to say a lot about it while we're young men. Good-by, Mr.
Jones. We've been in some good hotels, but we never slept better in
any of them than we have in this moving one of yours."
"Good-by, you're always welcome to it. I think Marse Bob is on ahead."
The two left the wagon and took to a path beside the road, which was
muddy and rutted deeply by innumerable hoofs and wheels. But grass and
foliage were now dry after the heavy rains that followed the Battle of
Gettysburg, and the sun was shining in late splendor. The army, taking
the lack of pursuit and attack as proof that the enemy had suffered as
much as they, if not more, was in good spirits, and many of the men
sang their marching songs. A band ahead of them suddenly began to play
mellow music, "Partant Pour La Syrie," and other old French songs. The
airs became gay, festive, uplifting to the soul, and they tickled the
feet of the young men.
"The Cajun band!" exclaimed Harry. "It never occurred to me that they
weren't all dead, and here they are, playing us into happiness!"
"And the Invincibles, or what's left of them, won't be far away," said
Dalton.
They walked on a little more briskly and beside them the vast length of
the unsuccessful army still trailed its slow way back into the South.
The sun was setting in uncommon magnificence, clothing everything in a
shower of gold, through which the lilting notes of the music came to
Harry and Dalton's ears. Presently the two saw them, the short, dark
men from far Louisiana, not so many as they had been, but playing with
all the fervor of old, putting their Latin souls into their music.
"And there are the Invincibles just ahead of them!" exclaimed Dalton.
"The two colonels have left the wagon and are riding with their men.
See, how erect they sit."
"I do see them, and they're a good sight to see," said Harry. "I hope
they'll live to finish that chess game."
"And fifty years afterward, too."
A shout of joy burst from the road, and a tall young man, slender, dark
and handsome, rushed out, and, seizing the hands of first one and then
the other, shook them eagerly, his dark eyes glittering with happy
surprise.
"Kenton! Dalton!" he exclaimed. "Both alive! Both well!"
It was young Julien de Langeais, the kinsman of Lieutenant-Colonel
Hector St. Hilaire, and he too was unhurt. The lads returned his grasp
warmly. They could not have kept from liking him had they tried, and
they certainly did not wish to try.
"You don't know how it rejoices me to see you," said Julien, speaking
very fast. "I was sad! very sad! Some of my best friends have
perished back there in those inhospitable Pennsylvania hills, and while
the band was playing it made me think of the homes they will never see
any more! Don't think I'm effusive and that I show grief too much, but
my heart has been very heavy! Alas, for the brave lads!"
"Come, come, de Langeais," said Harry, putting his hand on his
shoulder. "You've no need to apologize for sorrow. God knows we all
have enough of it, but a lot of us are still alive and here's an army
ready to fight again, whenever the enemy says the word."
"True! True!" exclaimed de Langeais, changing at once from shadow to
sunshine. "And when we're back in Virginia we'll turn our faces once
more to our foe!"
He took a step or two on the grass in time to the music which was now
that of a dance, and the brilliant beams of the setting sun showed a
face without a care. Invincible youth and the invincible gayety of the
part of the South that was French were supreme again. Dalton, looking
at him, shook his Presbyterian head. Yet his eyes expressed admiration.
"I know your feelings," said Harry to the Virginian.
"Well, what are they?"
"You don't approve of de Langeais' lightness, which in your stern code
you would call levity, and yet you envy him possession of it. You
don't think it's right to be joyous, without a care, and yet you know
it would be mighty pleasant. You criticize de Langeais a little, but
you feel it would be a gorgeous thing to have that joyous spirit of
his."
Dalton laughed.
"You're pretty near the truth," he said. "I haven't known de Langeais
so very long, but if he were to get killed I'd feel that I had lost a
younger brother."
"So would I."
Two immaculate youths, riding excellent horses, approached them, and
favored them with a long and supercilious stare.
"Can the large fair person be Lieutenant Kenton of the staff of the
commander-in-chief?" asked St. Clair.
"It can be and it is, although we did not think to see him again so
soon," replied Happy Tom Langdon, "and the other--I do not allude to de
Langeais--is that spruce and devout young man, Lieutenant George
Dalton, also of the staff of the commander-in-chief."
"Why do we find them in such humble plight, walking on weary feet in a
path beside the road?"
"For the most excellent reason in the world, Arthur."
"And what may that reason be, Tom?"
"Because at last they have come down to their proper station in life,
just as surely as water finds its level."
"But we'll not treat them too sternly. We must remember that they also
serve who walk and wait."
But St. Clair and Langdon, their chaff over, gave them happy greeting,
and told them that the two colonels would be rejoiced to see them
again, if they could spare a few minutes before rejoining their
commander.
"And here is an orderly with both your horses," said St. Clair, "so,
under the circumstances, we'll sink our pride and let you ride with us."
De Langeais, with a cheerful farewell until the next day, returned to
his command, and Harry and Dalton, mounting, were in a few minutes
beside the Invincibles. Colonel Leonidas Talbot and Lieutenant-Colonel
Hector St. Hilaire turned their horses from the road into the path and
saluted them with warmth.
"We caught a glimpse of you just after our departure, Harry," said
Colonel Talbot, "but we did not know what had happened since. There is
always a certain amount of risk attending the removal of a great army."
"I am glad, Leonidas, that you used the word 'removal' to describe our
operations after our great victory at Gettysburg," said
Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire. "I have been feeling about for the
right word or phrase myself, but you have found it first."
"Do you think it was a victory, sir?" asked Harry.
"Undoubtedly. We have won several vast and brilliant triumphs, but
this is the greatest of them all. We have gone far into the enemy's
country, where we have struck him a terrible blow, and now, of our own
choice--understand it is of our own choice--we withdraw and challenge
him to come and repeat on our own soil our exploit if he can. It is
like a skilled and daring prize fighter who leaps back and laughingly
bids his foe come on. Am I not right, Leonidas?"
"Neither Aristotle nor Plato was ever more right, Hector, old friend.
Usually there is more to a grave affair than appears upon the surface.
We could have gone on, after the battle, to Philadelphia, had we
chosen, but it was not alone a question of military might that General
Lee had to decide. He was bound to give weight to some very subtle
considerations. You boys remember your Roman history, do you not?"
"Fragments of it, sir," replied Harry.
"Then you will recall that Hannibal, a fine general, to be named
worthily with our great Lee so far as military movements are concerned,
after famous victories over greatly superior numbers of Romans, went
into camp at Capua, crowded with beauty, wine and games, and the
soldiers became enervated. Their fiber was weakened and their bodies
softened. They were quicker to heed the call to a banquet than the
call to arms."
"Unless it was the arms of beauty, Leonidas."
"Well spoken, Hector. The correction is most important, and I accept
it. But to take up again the main thread of my discourse. General Lee
undoubtedly had the example of the Carthaginian army and Capua in mind
when he left Gettysburg and returned toward the South. Philadelphia is
a great city, far larger and richer than any in our section. It is
filled with magnificent houses, beautiful women, luxury of every
description, ease and softness. Our brave lads, crowned with mighty
exploits and arriving there as conquerors, would have been received
with immense admiration, although we are official enemies. And the
head of youth is easily turned. The Army of Northern Virginia,
emerging from Philadelphia, to achieve the conquest of New York and
Boston would not be the army that it is to-day. It would lack some of
that fire and dash, some of the extraordinary courage and tenacity
which have enabled it to surpass the deeds of the veterans of Hannibal
and Napoleon."
"But, sir, I've heard that the people of Philadelphia are mostly
Quakers, very sober in dress and manner."
"Harry, my lad, when you've lived as long as I have you will know that
a merry heart may beat beneath a plain brown dress, and that an ugly
hood cannot wholly hide a sweet and saucy face. The girls--God bless
'em--have been the same in all lands since the world began, and will
continue so to the end. While this war is on you boys cannot go
a-courting, either in the North or South. Am I not right, Hector, old
friend?"
"Right, as always, Leonidas. I perceive, though, that the sun is about
to set; not a new thing, I admit, but we must not delay our young
friends, when the general perhaps needs them."
"Well spoken again, Hector. You are an unfailing fount of wisdom. Good
night, my brave lads. Not many of the Invincibles are left, but every
one of them is a true friend of you both."
As they rode across the darkening fields Harry and Dalton knew that the
colonel spoke the truth about the Invincibles.
"I like a faith such as theirs," said Dalton.
"Yes, it can often turn defeat into real victory."
They quickly found the general's headquarters, and as usual, whenever
the weather permitted, he had made arrangements to sleep in the open
air, his blankets spread upon soft boughs. Harry and Dalton, having
slept all day, would be on night duty, and after supper they sat at a
little distance, awaiting orders.
Coolness had come with the dark. A good moon and swarms of bright
stars rode in the heavens, turning the skies to misty silver, and
softening the scars of the army, which now lay encamped over a great
space. Lee was talking with Stuart, who evidently had just arrived
from a swift ride, as an orderly near by was holding his horse, covered
with foam. The famous cavalryman was clothed in his gorgeous best.
His hat was heavy with gold braid, and the broad sash about his waist
was heavy with gold, also. Dandy he was, but brilliant cavalryman and
great soldier too! Both friend and foe had said so.
Harry, sitting on the grass, with his back against a tree, watched the
two generals as they talked long and earnestly. Now and then Stuart
nervously switched the tops of his own high riding boots with the
little whip that he carried, but the face of Lee, revealed clearly in
the near twilight, remained grave and impassive.
After a long while Stuart mounted and rode away, and Sherburne, who had
been sitting among the trees on the far side of the fire, came over and
joined Harry and Dalton. He too was very grave.
"Do you know what has happened?" he said in a low tone to the two lads.
"Yes, there was a big battle at Gettysburg, and as we failed to win it
we're now retreating," replied Harry.
"That's true as far as it goes, but it's not all. We've heard--and the
news is correct beyond a doubt--that Grant has taken Vicksburg and
Pemberton's army with it."
"Good God, Sherburne, it can't be so!"
"It shouldn't be so, but it is! Oh, why did Pemberton let himself be
trapped in such a way! A whole army of ours lost and our greatest
fortress in the West taken! Why, the Yankee men-of-war can steam up
the Mississippi untouched, all the way from the Gulf to Minnesota."
Harry and Dalton were appalled, and, for a little while, were silent.
"I knew that man Grant would do something terrible to us," Harry said
at last. "I've heard from my people in Kentucky what sort of a general
he is. My father was at Shiloh, where we had a great victory on, but
Grant wouldn't admit it, and held on, until another Union army came up
and turned our victory into defeat. My cousin, Dick Mason, has been
with Grant a lot, and I used to get a letter from him now and then,
even if he is in the Yankee army. He says that when Grant takes hold
of a thing he never lets go, and that he'll win the war for his side."
"Your cousin may be right about Grant's hanging on," said Dalton with
sudden angry emphasis, "but neither he nor anybody else will win this
war for the Yankees. We've lost Vicksburg, and an army with it, and
we've retreated from Gettysburg, with enough men fallen there to make
another army, but they'll never break through the iron front of Lee and
his veterans."
"Hope you're right," said Sherburne, "but I'm off now. I'm in the
saddle all night with my troop. We've got to watch the Yankee cavalry.
Custer and Pleasanton and the rest of them have learned to ride in a
way that won't let Jeb Stuart himself do any nodding."
He cantered off and the lads sat under the trees, ready for possible
orders. They saw the fire die. They heard the murmur of the camp
sink. Lee lay down on his bed of boughs, other generals withdrew to
similar beds or to tents, and the two boys still sat under the trees,
waiting and watching, and never knowing at what moment they would be
needed.