“General Ashby!” he cried to the first man he saw. “Where is he? I’ve a message from General Jackson!”
The soldier pointed to a figure on horseback but a short distance away, and Harry galloped up.
“General Jackson asks you to press the enemy harder!” he said to Ashby. “He wishes him to be driven in rapidly!”
A faint flush came into the brown cheeks of Ashby.
“He shall he obeyed,” he replied. “We’re about to charge in full force! Hold, young man! You can’t go back now! You must charge with us!”
He put his hand on Harry’s rein as he spoke, and the boy saw that a strong force of Northern cavalry had now appeared in the fields directly between him and his general. Ashby turned the next instant to a bugler at his elbow and exclaimed fiercely:
“Blow! Blow with all your might!”
The piercing notes of the charge rang forth again and again. Ashby, shouting loudly and continuously and waving his sword above his head, galloped forward. His whole cavalry force galloped with him and swept down upon the defenders.
Nor did Ashby lack support. The Acadians led by Taylor swung forward on a run, and a battery, coming at the double quick, unlimbered and opened fire. Jackson had directed all, he had brought up the converging lines, and the whole Northern rear guard, two thousand cavalry, some infantry and a battery, were caught. Just before them lay the little village of Middletown, and in an instant they were driven into its streets, where they were raked by shot and shell from the cannon, while the rifles of the cavalry and of the Louisiana troops swept them with bullets.
Again the Northern soldiers, brave and tenacious though they might be, could make no stand against the terrible rush of Jackson’s victorious and superior numbers. They had no such leading as their foes. The man, the praying professor, was proving himself everything.
As at Front Royal, the Northern force was crushed. It burst from the village in fragments, and fled in many directions. But Jackson urged on the pursuit. Ashby’s cavalry charged again and again, taking prisoners everywhere.
The people of Middletown, as red-hot for the South as were those of Front Royal, rushed from their houses and guided the victors along the right roads. They pointed where two batteries and a train of wagons were fleeing toward Winchester, and Ashby, with his cavalry, Harry still at his elbow, raced in pursuit.
CHAPTER X. WINCHESTER
Ashby’s troopers put the armed guard of the wagons to flight in an instant, and then they seized the rich pillage in these wagons. They were not yet used to the stern discipline of regular armies and Ashby strove in vain to bring most of them back to the pursuit of the flying enemy. Harry also sought to help, but they laughed at him, and he had not yet come to the point where he could cut down a disobedient soldier. Nor had the soldiers reached the point where they would suffer such treatment from an officer. Had Harry tried such a thing it is more than likely that he would have been cut down in his turn.
But the delay and similar delays elsewhere helped the retreating Northern army. Banks, feeling that the pursuit was not now so fierce, sent back a strong force with artillery under a capable officer, Gordon, to help the rear. The scattered and flying detachments also gathered around Gordon and threw themselves across the turnpike.
Harry felt the resistance harden and he saw the pursuit of the Southern army slow up. The day, too, was waning. Shadows were already appearing in the east and if Jackson would destroy Banks’ army utterly he must strike quick and hard. Harry at that moment caught sight of the general on the turnpike, on Little Sorrel, the reins lying loose on the horse’s neck, his master sitting erect, and gazing at the darkening battlefield which was spread out before him.
Harry galloped up and saluted.
“I could not come back at once, sir,” he said, “because the enemy was crowded in between Ashby and yourself.”
“But you’ve come at last. I was afraid you had fallen.”