The Star of Gettysburg: A Story of Southern High Tide, Joseph A. Altsheler [best value ebook reader txt] 📗

Culpeper was a tiny place, a court house and not much more, but now its eager and joyous citizens welcomed a great army. Although Hill and his corps were yet back watching Hooker, fifty thousand veterans were gathered at the village. Soon they would be seventy thousand or more, and Culpeper rejoiced yet again. The women and children—the men were but few, gone to the war—were never too tired to seek glimpses of the famous generals, whom they regarded as their champions. Stuart, in his brilliant uniform, at the head of his great cavalry command, appealed most to the young, and his gay spirit and frank manners delighted everybody. They paid little attention to the Northern cavalry and infantry on the other side of the Rappahannock, knowing that Hooker's main army was yet far away, and feeling secure in the protection of Lee and his victorious army.

Harry slept heavily that night, wearied by the long ride. He, Dalton and two other young officers had been assigned to a small tent, but, taking their blankets, they slept under the stars. Harry seldom cared for a roof now on a dry, warm night. He had become so much used to hardships and unlimited spaces that he preferred his blankets and the free breezes that blew about the world. It was a long time after the war before he became thoroughly reconciled to bedrooms in warm weather.

He was aroused the next morning by Dalton, who pulled him by his feet out of his blankets.

"Stick your head in a pail of water," said Dalton, "and get your breakfast as soon as you can. Everything is waiting on you."

"How dare you, George, drag me by the heels that way? I was marching down Broadway in New York at the head of our conquering army, and millions of Yankees were pointing at me, all saying with one voice: 'That's the fellow that beat us.' Now you've spoiled my triumph. And what do you mean by saying that everything is waiting for me?"

"Our army, as you know, is spectacular only in its achievements, but to-day we intend to have a little splendor. The commander-in-chief is going to review Jeb Stuart's cavalry. For dramatic effect it's a chance that Stuart won't miss."

"That's so. Just tell 'em I'm coming and that the parade can begin."

Harry bathed his face and had a good breakfast, but there was no need to hurry. Jeb Stuart, as Dalton had predicted, was making the most of his chance. He was going not only to parade, but to have a mock battle as well. As the sun rose higher, making the June day brilliant, General Lee and his staff, dressed in their best, rode slowly to a little hillock commanding a splendid view of a wide plain lying east of Culpeper Court House.

General Lee was in a fine uniform, his face shaded by the brim of the gray hat which pictures have made so familiar. His cavalry cape swung from his shoulders, but not low enough to hide the splendid sword at his belt. His face was grave and his whole appearance was majestic. If only Jackson were there, riding by his side! Harry choked again.

Lee sat on his white horse, Traveler, and above him on a lofty pole a brilliant Confederate flag waved in the light wind. Harry and Dalton, as the youngest, took their modest places in the rear of the group of staff officers, just behind Lee, and looked expectantly over the plain. They saw at the far edge a long line of horsemen, so long, in fact, that the eye did not travel its full distance. Nearer by, all the guns of "Stuart's Horse Artillery" were posted upon a hill.

Harry's heart began to beat at the sight—mimic, not real, war, but thrilling nevertheless. A bugle suddenly sounded far away, its note coming low, but mellow. Other bugles along the line sang the same tune, and then came rolling thunder, as ten thousand matchless horsemen, led by Stuart himself, charged over the plain straight toward the hill on which Lee sat on his horse.

The horsemen seemed to Harry to rise as if they were coming up the curve of the earth. It was a tremendous and thrilling sight. The hoofs of ten thousand horses beat in unison. Every man held aloft his sabre, and the sun struck upon their blades and glanced off in a myriad brilliant beams. Harry glanced at Lee and he saw that the blue eyes were gleaming. He, too, sober and quiet though he was, felt pride as the Murat of the South led on his legions.

The cavalrymen, veering a little, charged toward the guns on the hill, and they received them with a discharge of blank cartridges which made the plain shake. Back and forth the mimic battle rolled, charge and repulse, and the smoke of the firing drifted over the plain. But the wild horsemen wheeled and turned, always keeping place with such superb skill that the officers and the infantry looking on burst again and again into thunderous applause.

The display lasted some time. When it was over and the smoke and dust were settling, General Lee and his staff rode back to their quarters, the young officers filled with pride at the spectacle and more confident than ever that their coming invasion of the North would be the final triumph.

Northern cavalry, on the other side of the river, had heard the heavy firing and they could not understand it. Could their forces following Lee on the right bank be engaged in battle with him? They had not heard of any such advance by their own men, yet they plainly heard the sounds of a heavy cannonade, and it was a matter into which they must look. They had disregarded sharp firing too often before and they were growing wary. But with that wariness also came a daring which the Union leaders in the east had not usually shown hitherto. They had a strong cavalry force in three divisions on the other side of the river, and the commanders of the divisions, Buford, Gregg and Duffie, with Pleasanton over all, were forming a bold design.

Events were to move fast for Harry, much faster than he was expecting. He was sent that night with a note to Stuart, who went into camp with his ten thousand cavalry and thirty guns on a bare eminence called Fleetwood Hill. The base of the hill was surrounded by forest, and not far away was a little place called Brandy Station. Harry was not to return until morning, as he had been sent late with the message, and after delivering it to Stuart he hunted up his friend Sherburne.

He found the captain sitting by a low campfire and he was made welcome. Sherburne, after the parade and sham battle, had cleaned the dust from his uniform and he was now as neat and trim as St. Clair himself.

"Sit down, Harry," he said with the greatest geniality. "Here, orderly, take his horse, but leave him his blankets. You'll need the blankets to-night, Harry, because you bunk with us in the Inn of the Greenwood Tree. We've got a special tree, too. See it there, the oak with the great branches."

"I'll never ask anything better in summer time, provided it doesn't rain," said Harry.

"Wasn't that a fine parade?" Sherburne ran on. "And this is the greatest cavalry force that we've had during the war. Why, Stuart can go anywhere and do anything with it. A lot of Virginia scouts under Jones are watching the fords, and we've got with us such leaders as Fitz Lee, Robertson, Hampton and the commander-in-chief's son, W. H. F. Lee—why should a man be burdened with three initials? We can take care of any cavalry force that the Yankees may send against us."

"I've noticed in the recent fighting," said Harry, "that the Northern cavalrymen are a lot better than they used to be. Most of us were born in the saddle, but they had to learn to ride. They'll give us a tough fight now whenever we meet 'em."

"I agree with you," said Sherburne, "but they can't beat us. You can ride back in the morning, Harry, and report to the commander-in-chief that he alone can move us from this position. Listen to that stamping of hoofs! Among ten thousand horses a lot are likely to be restless; and look there at the hilltop where thirty good guns are ready to turn their mouths on any foe."

"I see them all," said Harry, "and I think you're right. I'll ride back peaceably to General Lee in the morning, and tell him that I left ten thousand cavalrymen lying lazily on the grass, and ten thousand horses eating their heads off near Brandy Station."

"But to-night you rest," said one of the young officers. "Do you smoke?"

"I've never learned."

"Well, I don't smoke either unless we get 'em from the Yankees. Here's what's left of a box that we picked up near the Chancellor House. It may have belonged to Old Joe Hooker himself, but if so he'll never get it back again."

He distributed the cigars among the smokers, who puffed them with content. Meanwhile the noises of the camp sank, and presently Harry, taking his blankets and saying good night, went to sleep in the Inn of the Greenwood Tree.

Harry was a fine sleeper. One learns to be in long campaigns. Most of those about him slept as well, and the ten thousand horses, which had been ridden hard in the great display during the day, also sank into quiet. The restless hoofs ceased to move. Now and then there was a snort or a neigh, but the noise was slight on Fleetwood Hill or in the surrounding forests.

A man came through the thickets soon after midnight and moved with the greatest caution toward the hill on which the artillery was ranged. He was in neither blue nor gray, just the plain garb of a civilian, but he was of strong figure and his smoothly shaven face, with its great width between the eyes and massive chin, expressed character and uncommon resolution.

The intruder—he was obviously such, because he sought with the minutest care to escape observation—never left the shelter of the bushes. He had all the skill of the old forest runners, because his footsteps made no sound as he passed and he knew how to keep his figure always in the shadows until it became a common blur with them.

His was a most delicate task, in which discovery was certain death, but he never faltered. His heart beat steadily and strong. It was an old risk to him, and he had the advantage of great natural aptitude, fortified by long training in a school of practice where a single misstep meant death.

The sharp eyes of the spy missed nothing. He counted the thirty pieces of artillery on the hill. He estimated with amazing accuracy the number of Stuart's horsemen. He saw a thousand proofs that the heavy firing he had heard in the course of the day was not due to battle with Northern troops. Although he stopped at times for longer looks, he made a wide circuit about the Confederate camp, and he was satisfied that Stuart, vigilant and daring though he might be, was not expecting an enemy.

Shepard's heart for the first time beat a little faster. He had felt as much as any general the Northern defeats and humiliations in the east, but, like officers and soldiers, he was not crushed by them. He even felt that the tide might be about to turn. Lee, invading the North, would find before him many of the difficulties which had faced the Northern generals attacking the South. Shepard, a man of supreme courage, resolved that he would spare no effort in the service to which he had devoted himself.

He spent fully four hours in the thickets, and then, feeling that he had achieved his task, bore away toward the river. Taking off his coat and belt with pistols in it, and fastening them about his neck, he swam with bold strokes to the other side of the stream. However, had anyone been on the watch at that very point, it was not likely that he would have been seen. It was the approach of dawn and heavy mists were rising on the Rappahannock, as they