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Updated: May 4, 2025
The life was calm in so humble a corner which offered nothing to the invader or marauder of the time, but yet was so much within the universal conditions of war that the next-door neighbour, so to speak, the adjacent village of Maxey, held for the Burgundian and English alliance, while little Domremy was for the King.
Claude and David were billeted at the edge of the town, with the woman who had given Captain Maxey his first information, when they marched in yesterday morning. Their hostess told them, at their mid-day breakfast, that the old dame who was shot in the square, and the little girl, were to be buried this afternoon. Claude decided that the Americans might as well have their funeral at the same time.
The brigadier Maxey Gregg the regimental, the company officers, with shouts, with appeals, with waved swords, strove to stop the rout. The command rallied, then broke again. Hell was in the wood, and the men's faces were grey and drawn. "We must rally those troops!" said Lee, and galloped forward. He came into the midst of the disordered throng. "Men, men! Remember your State Do your duty!"
William A. Wallace of Pennsylvania, an extreme partisan, but an agreeable gentleman and loyal friend, took the place of John Scott. Allen T. Caperton, an estimable man who had served in the Confederate Senate, now succeeded Arthur L. Boreman of West Virginia. Samuel B. Maxey of Texas, a graduate of West Point, succeeded J. W. Flanagan. Charles W. Jones of Florida succeeded Abijah Gilbert.
When, early in May, Pemberton began to feel the weight of Grant's pressure, he called on Gardner for reinforcements; thus Rust and Buford marched to the relief of Vicksburg on the 4th of May, Gregg followed on the 5th, and Maxey on the 8th.
The road to Maxey was a very lonely one, part of it a narrow footpath along the mere, and the superstition of the neighbourhood connected strange tales of horror and weird fancy with the locality.
Another shot, and Captain Maxey fell on one knee, blushed furiously and sprang up, only to fall again, ashy white, with the leg of his trousers going red. "There it is, to the left!" Hicks shouted, pointing. They saw now. From a closed house, some distance down a street off the square, smoke was coming. It hung before one of the upstairs windows. The Captain's orderly dragged him into a wineshop.
His good friend and master, Francis Gregory, wondering at the haggard look of the lad, thought he was going to have another attack of the tertiary ague, and spoke to his parents; but John, in his silent mood, said it was nothing, and begged to be left alone. So they let him have his way, and he continued his weekly errands to Maxey, with the same result as before.
Maxey's family were poor folk from Mississippi, who had settled in Nemaha county, and he was very ambitious, not only to get on in the world, but, as he said, to "be somebody." His life at the University was a feverish pursuit of social advantages and useful acquaintances. His feeling for the "right people" amounted to veneration. After his graduation, Maxey served on the Mexican Border.
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