Joseph A Altsheler – Civil War 05 – Star Of Gettysburg. Chapter 3, 4
CHAPTER III. JACKSON MOVES
It was impossible for Harry to restrain a vivid feeling of exultation. He was in the open, and he was leaving the Northern cavalry far behind. Nor was it likely that any further enemy would appear now between him and Jackson’s army. Chance had certainly favored him. What a glorious goddess Chance was when she happened to be on your side! Then everything fell out as you wished it. You could not go wrong.
The horse he rode was even better than the one he had lost, and a pair of splendid pistols in holsters lay across the saddle. He could account for two enemies if need be, but when he looked back he saw no pursuers in sight, and he slowed his pace in order not to overtax the horse.
Not long afterwards he saw the Southern pickets belonging to the vanguard of the Invincibles. St. Clair himself was with them, and when he saw Harry he galloped forward, uttering a shout.
St. Clair had known of the errand upon which Harry had gone with Sherburne, and now he was alarmed to see him riding back alone, worn and covered with dust.
“What’s the matter, Harry?” he cried, “and where are the others?”
“Nothing’s the matter with me, and I don’t know where the others are. But, Arthur, I’ve got to see General Jackson at once! Where is he?”
Harry’s manner was enough to impress his comrade, who knew him so well.
“This way,” he said. “Not more than four or five hundred yards. There, that’s General Jackson’s tent!”
Harry leaped from his horse as he came near and made a rush for the tent. The flap was open, but a sentinel who stood in front put up his rifle, and barred the way. A low monotone came from within the tent.
“The General’s praying,” he said. “I can’t let you in for a minute or two.”
Harry took off his hat and stood in silence while the two minutes lasted. All his haste was suddenly gone from him. The strong affection that he felt for Jackson was tinged at times with awe, and this awe was always strongest when the general was praying. He knew that the prayer was no affectation, that it came from the bottom of his soul, like that of a crusader, asking forgiveness for his sins.
The monotone ceased, the soldier took down his rifle which was held like a bar across the way, and Harry, entering, saluted his general, who was sitting in the half light at a table, reading a little book, which the lad guessed was a pocket Bible.
Harry saluted and Jackson looked at him gravely.
“You’ve come back alone, it seems,” he said, “but you’ve obeyed my instructions not to come without definite news?”
“I have, sir.”
“What have you seen?”
“We saw the main army of General McClellan crossing the Potomac at Berlin. He must have had there a hundred thousand men and three or four hundred guns, and others were certainly crossing elsewhere.”
“You saw all this with your own eyes?”
“I did, sir. We watched them for a long time. They were crossing on a bridge of boats.”
“You are dusty and you look very worn. Did you come in contact with the enemy?”
“Yes, sir. Many of their horsemen were already on this side of the river, and this morning I was pressed very hard by a troop of their cavalry. I gained a wood, but just at the edge of it my horse was killed by a chance shot.”
“Your horse killed? Then how could you escape from cavalry?”
“Chance favored me, sir. I dodged them for a while in the woods and underbrush, helped by gullies here and there, and when I came to the edge of the wood only a single horseman was near me. I hid behind a tree and knocked him out of the saddle as he was riding past.”
“I hope you did not kill him.”
“I did not. He was merely stunned. He will have a headache for a day or two, and then he will be as well as ever. I jumped on his horse and galloped here as straight and fast as I could.”