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Дата написания1970-01-01
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The sentinel looked again at the quiet man on the horse, put his fingers to his lips and blew loudly. An officer emerged from the woods and said:

“What is it, Felton?”

Then he glanced at the man on the horse and started violently.

“General Jackson!” he exclaimed.

The sentinel turned pale, but said nothing.

“Yes, I’m General Jackson,” said the general, “and I ride with this lieutenant of my staff on an errand. But both of you must swear to me that you have not seen me.”

Then he turned to the sentinel.

“You did right to stop us,” he said. “I wish that all our sentinels were as faithful as you.”

Then while the man glowed with gratitude, he and Harry rode on. Jackson was in deep thought and did not speak. Harry, a little awed by this strange ride, looked up at the trees and the dusky heavens. He heard the far hoot of an owl, and he shivered a little. What if a troop of Northern cavalry should suddenly burst upon them. But no troop of the Northern horse, nor horse of any kind, appeared. Instead, Jackson’s own horse began to pant and stumble. Soon he gave out entirely.

It was not yet day, but dimly to the right they saw the roof of a house among some trees. It was a poor Virginia farm that did not have horses on it, and Jackson suggested to Harry that they wake up the people and secure two fresh mounts.

The commander of an army and his young aide walked a little distance down a road, entered a lawn, drove off two barking dogs, and knocked loud on the front door of the house with the butts of their riding whips. A head was at last thrust out of an upper window, and a sleepy and indignant voice demanded what they wanted.

“We’re two officers from General Jackson’s army riding on important duty,” replied the general, in his usual mild tones. “Our horses have broken down and we want to obtain new ones.”

“What’s your names? What’s your rank?” demanded the gruff voice.

“We cannot give our names.”

“Then clear out! You’re frauds! If I find you hanging about here I’ll shoot at you, and I tell you for your good that I’m no bad shot.”

The shutter of the window closed with a bang, but the two dogs that had been driven off began to bark again at a safe distance. Harry glanced at his general.

“Isn’t that a stable among the trees?” asked Jackson.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then we’ll find our horses there. Get the other two and bring them here.”

Harry obeyed promptly, and they opened the stable, finding good horses, of which they selected the two best to which they changed their saddles and bridles.

“We’ll leave our own horses for our inhospitable friends,” said General Jackson, “and he’ll not suffer by the exchange.”

Mounting the fresh horses they rode rapidly, and, after the coming of the dawn, Harry saw that they were approaching Richmond, and he guessed now what was coming.

General Jackson had in his pocket a pass sent to him by General Lee, and they swiftly went through the lines of pickets, and then on through Richmond. People were astir in the streets of the Southern capital, and many of them saw the bearded man in an old uniform and a black slouch hat riding by, accompanied by only a boy, but not one of them knew that this was Stonewall Jackson, whose fame had been filling their ears for a month past. Nor, if they had known him would they have divined how much ill his passage boded to the great army of McClellan.

They went through Richmond and on toward the front. Midday passed, and at three o’clock they reached the house in which Lee had established his headquarters.

“Who is it?” asked a sentinel at the door.

“Tell General Lee that General Jackson is waiting.”

The sentinel hurried inside, General Jackson and his aide dismounted, and a moment later General Lee came out, extending his hand, which Jackson clasped. The two stood a moment looking at each other. It was the first time that they had met in the war, but Harry saw by the glance that passed that each knew the other a man, not an ordinary man, nor even a man of ten thousand, but a genius of the kind that appears but seldom. It was all the more extraordinary that the two should appear at the same time, serving together in perfect harmony, and sustaining for so long by their united power and intellect a cause that seemed lost from the first.

It was not any wonder that Harry gazed with all his eyes at the memorable meeting. He knew Jackson, and he was already learning much of Lee.

He saw in the Confederate commander-in-chief a man past fifty, ruddy of countenance, hair and beard short, gray and thick, his figure tall and powerful, and his expression at once penetrating and kind. He was dressed in a fine gray uniform, precise and neat.

Such was Robert Edward Lee, and Harry thought him the most impressive human being upon whom he had ever looked.

“General Jackson,” said General Lee, “this is a fortunate meeting. You have saved the Confederacy.”

General Jackson made a gesture of dissent, but General Lee took him by the arm and they went into the house. General Jackson turned a moment at the door and motioned to Harry to follow. The boy went in, and found himself in a large room. Three men had risen from cane chairs to meet the visitor. One, broad of shoulders, middle-aged and sturdy, was Longstreet. The others more slender of figure were the two Hills.

The major generals came forward eagerly to meet Jackson, and they also had friendly greetings for his young aide. Lee handed them glasses of milk which they drank thirstily.

“You’ll find an aide of mine in the next room,” said General Lee to Harry. “He’s a little older than you are but you should get along together.”

Harry bowed and withdrew, and the aide, Charlie Gordon, gave him a hearty welcome. He was three or four years Harry’s senior, something of a scholar, but frank and open. When they had exchanged names, Gordon said:

“Stretch out a bit on this old sofa. You look tired. You’ve been riding a long distance. How many miles have you come?”

“I don’t know,” replied Harry, as he lay luxuriously on the sofa, “but we started at one o’clock this morning and it is now three o’clock in the afternoon.”

“Fourteen hours. It’s like what we’ve been hearing of Stonewall Jackson. I took a peep at him from the window as you rode up.”

“I suppose you didn’t see much but dust.”

“They certainly tell extraordinary things of General Jackson. It can’t be possible that all are true!”

“It is possible. They’re all true—and more. I tell you, Gordon, when you hear anything wonderful about Stonewall Jackson just you believe it. Don’t ask any questions, or reasons but believe it.”

“I think I shall,” said Gordon, convinced, “but don’t forget, Kenton, that we’ve got a mighty man here, too. You can’t be with General Lee long without feeling that you’re in the presence of genius.”

“And they’re friends, not jealous of each other. You could see that at a glance.”

“The coming of Jackson is like dawn bursting from the dark. I feel, Kenton, that McClellan’s time is at hand.”

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