Jackson meant to pass around his enemy’s right, crossing the Bull Run Mountain at Thoroughfare Gap, then strike the railway in Pope’s rear. Longstreet, one of the heaviest hitters of the South, meanwhile was to worry Pope incessantly along the line of the Rappahannock, and when Jackson attacked they were to drive him toward the northeast and away from McClellan.
The hot August night was one of the most momentous in American history, and the next few days were to see the Union in greater danger than it has ever stood either before or since. Perhaps it was not given to the actors in the drama to know it then, but the retrospect shows it now. The North had not attained its full fighting strength, and the genius of the two great Southern commanders was at the zenith, while behind them stood a group of generals, full of talent and fearless of death.
Jackson had been directly before Sulphur Springs where Dick lay with the division to which he belonged. But Jackson, under cover of the darkness, had slipped away and the division of Longstreet had taken its place so quietly that the Union scouts and spies, including Shepard himself, did not know the difference.
Jackson’s army marched swiftly and silently, while that of Pope slept. The plan of Lee was complicated and delicate to the last degree, but Jackson, the mainspring in this organism, never doubted that he could carry it out. His division soon left the rest of the army far behind, as they marched steadily on over the hills, the fate of the nation almost in the hollow of their hands.
The foot cavalry of Jackson were proud of their ability that night. They carried only three days’ rations, expecting to feed off the enemy at the end of that time. Near midnight they lay down and slept a while, but long before dawn they were in line again marching over the hills and across the mountains. There were skirmishers in advance on either side, but they met no Union scouts. The march of Jackson’s great fighting column was still unseen and unsuspected. A single Union scout or a message carried by a woman or child might destroy the whole plan, as a grain of dust stops all the wheels and levers of a watch, but neither the scout, the woman nor the child appeared.
Toward dawn the marching Southerners heard far behind them the thunder of guns along the Rappahannock. They knew that Longstreet had opened with his batteries across the river, and that those of Pope were replying. The men looked at one another. There was a deep feeling of excitement and suspense among them. They did not know what all this marching meant, but they had learned to trust the man who led them. He had led them only to victory, and they did not doubt that he was doing so again.
The march never paused for an instant. On they went, and the sound of the great guns behind them grew fainter and fainter until it faded away. Where were they going? Was it a raid on Washington? Were they to hurl themselves upon Pope’s rear, or was there some new army that they were to destroy?
Up swept the sun and the coolness left by the storm disappeared. The August day began to blaze again with fierce burning heat, but there was no complaint among Jackson’s men. They knew now that they were on one of his great turning movements, on a far greater scale than any hitherto, and full of confidence, they followed in the wake of Little Sorrel.
In the daylight now Jackson had scouts and skirmishers far in front and on either flank. They were to blaze the way for the army and they made a far out-flung line, through which no hostile scout could pass and see the marching army within. At the close of the day they were still marching, and when the sun was setting Jackson stood by the dusty roadside and watched his men as they passed. For the first time in that long march they broke through restraint and thundering cheers swept along the whole line as they took off their caps to the man whom they deemed at once their friend and a very god of war. The stern Jackson giving way so seldom to emotion was heard to say to himself: