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Blushes showed through the tan of his cheeks, and the soldiers, who would not have dared to disobey a single word of his on the battlefield, now ran joyously among the woods and bushes. Harry and the other three lads, being on Jackson's staff, hid discreetly behind the log as he passed, but they heard the thunder of the cheering following him down the road. It was in truth a most singular scene.
Jackson, who was to be of social assistance; an artist by the name of Earl, who resided at the White House throughout Jackson's two Administrations, engaged continually in painting portraits of the General; and, finally, the faithful Major Lewis, whose intention was merely to attend the inauguration and then return to his plantation.
He felt that, in a sense, he was leading in this great reinforcement himself, and he looked back with intense satisfaction at the powerful column marching so swiftly along the turnpike. They came late in the day to Jackson's pickets, and then they saw his army, scattered through the fields on either side of the road. Harry rejoiced once more in the grand appearance of the new division.
"Very artistic," Gino said. "And this too." He held up a knight from Jackson's chess set which was laid out on a table beneath the painting. He spun the piece slowly between his thumb and forefinger. "Jackson made those," Joe said. "Very nice. Do you play chess, Joe?" "Yes, but . . . " "How about a game?" Joe didn't want to play.
The long delay between the commencement of Jackson's movement until we heard the thunder of his guns immediately in our front and in rear of the enemy, was taken up in conjecturing, "what move was next." All felt that it was to be no retreat, and as we failed to advance, the mystery of our inactivity was more confounding. Early next morning, however, the battle began in earnest.
Towards the San Cosme Gate several of the younger officers, a lieutenant by name Ulysses Grant amongst the foremost, followed the enemy with such men as they could collect, and Jackson's guns were soon abreast of the fighting line. His teams had been destroyed by the fire of the Mexican batteries. Those of his waggons, posted further to the rear, had partially escaped.
As they could not turn back to fight those troublesome cannon, the column turned farther away and forced a road through a new path. It seemed now that Jackson's march was discovered and that the whole Northern army might press in between him and Lee. Harry's heart rose in his throat and he looked at his general. But Jackson rode calmly on.
Some of Jackson's troops early in the night began climbing around the steep cliffs that overlook the Shenandoah, and by daylight took possession of the heights opposite to those occupied by Walker's Division. But all during the day, while we were awaiting the signal of Jackson's approach, we heard continually the deep, dull sound of cannonading in our rear.
But in 1860, when friends reproached him for the lack of "Old Hickory" Jackson's sternness, he replied nobly: "I am just as God made me, and cannot change." The little "court" of the White House wrangling about a fit title for the Chief, that of "excellency" not being taken as sufficient, one disputant suggested that the Dutch one of "high mightiness" might fit.
The column moved on, but cautiously, with a strong feeling that it, in its turn, was being watched with muskets thrown forward. Then suddenly came recognition. "Grey grey! See the flag! They're ours! See " Rumour broke into jubilant shouting. "It's the head of Jackson's column! It's the Valley men! Hurrah! Hurrah! Stonewall! Stonewall Jackson! Yaaaih! Yaaaaaihhhh! 'Hello, boys!
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