The Scouts of Stonewall: The Story of the Great Valley CampaignAltsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
History
The Scouts of Stonewall: The Story of the Great Valley Campaign
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Juvenile fiction
Jackson now out of the way, the main portion of the army under Banks was
directed to march eastward to Manassas, while a heavy detachment still
more than double Jackson's in numbers remained in the valley. Meanwhile
McClellan, with his right flank clear, was going by sea to Richmond,
goaded to action at last by the incessant demands of a people which had
a right to expect much of his great and splendidly equipped army.
Harry was with Stonewall Jackson when the news of these movements
reached them, brought by Philip Sherburne, who, emulating his commander,
Turner Ashby, seemed never to rest or grow weary.
“General Banks is moving eastward to cover the eastern approaches to
Washington,” said the young captain, “while General Shields with 12,000
men is between us and Winchester.”
“So,” said Jackson. Sherburne looked at him earnestly, but he gave no
sign.
“Ride back to your chief and tell him I thank him for his vigilance and
to report to me promptly everything that he may discover,” said Jackson.
“You may ride with him also, Mr. Kenton, and return to me in an hour
with such news as you may have.”
Harry went gladly. Sometimes he longed to be at the front with Turner
Ashby, there where the rifles were often crackling.
“What will he do? Will he turn now?” said Sherburne anxiously to Harry.
“I heard General Jackson say that he would never hold another council
of war, and he's keeping his word. Nobody knows his plans, but I think
he'll attack. I feel quite sure of it, captain.”
They came soon to a field in which Turner Ashby was sitting on a
horse, examining points further down the valley with a pair of powerful
glasses. Sherburne reported briefly and Ashby nodded, but did not take
the glasses from his eyes. Harry also looked down the valley and his
strong sight enabled him to detect tiny, moving figures which he knew
were those of Union scouts and skirmishers.
Despite his youth and the ardor of battle in his nostrils, Harry felt
the tragedy of war in this pleasant country. It was a noble landscape,
that of the valley between the blue mountains. Before him stretched low
hills, covered here and there with fine groups of oak or pine without
undergrowth. Houses of red brick, with porticoes and green shutters,
stood in wide grounds. Most of them were inhabited yet, and their owners
always brought information to the soldiers of the South, never to those
of the North.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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