The Star of Gettysburg: A Story of Southern High Tide

It was dark now and he gazed toward the North, where the stars already twinkled serenely in the sky. It seemed to him that their army was about to enter some vast, illimitable space, swarming with unknown enemies. He felt for a little while a deep depression. But it was partly physical. His exertions of the day had been tremendous, and the intense excitement, too, had almost overcome him. The watchful Dalton noticed his condition, and wisely said nothing, allowing his pulses to regain their normal beat.

It was nearly an hour before his nerves became quiet, and then he sank into a heavy sleep. In the morning youth had reasserted itself, both physically and mentally. His doubts and apprehensions were gone. The unconquerable Army of Northern Virginia was merely marching again to fresh triumphs.

Although Hooker now understood Lee's movement, and was pushing more troops forward on his side of the Rappahannock, the Southern general, with his eye ever on his main object, did not cease his advance. He had turned his back on Washington, and nothing, not even formidable irruptions like that of Pleasanton, could make him change his plan.

The calls from the Valley of Virginia became more frequent and urgent. Messengers came to Lee, begging his help. Milroy at Winchester, with a strong force, was using rigorous measures. The people claimed that he had gone far beyond the rules of war. Jackson had come more than once to avenge them, and now they expected as much of Lee.

They did not appeal in vain. Harry saw Lee's eyes flash at the reports of the messengers, and he himself took a dispatch, the nature of which he knew, to Ewell, who was in advance, leading Jackson's old corps. Ewell, strapped to his horse, had regained his ruddiness and physical vigor. Harry saw his eyes shine as he read the dispatch, and he knew that nothing could please him more.

"You know what is in this, Lieutenant Kenton?" he said, tapping the paper.

"I do, sir, and I'm sorry I can't go with you."

"So am I; but as sure as you and I are sitting here on our horses, trouble is coming to Mr. Milroy. Some friends of yours in the little regiment called the Invincibles are just beyond the hill. Perhaps you'd like to see them."

Harry thanked him, saluted, and rode over the hill, where he found the two colonels, St. Clair and Langdon riding at the head of their men. The youths greeted him with a happy shout and the colonels welcomed him in a manner less noisy but as sincere.

"The sight of you, Harry, is good for any kind of eyes," said Colonel Talbot. "But what has brought you here?"

"An order from General Lee to General Ewell."

"Then it must be of some significance."

"It is, sir, and since it will be no secret in a few minutes, I can tell you that this whole corps is going to Winchester to take Milroy. I wish I could go with you, Colonel, but I can't."

"You were at Brandy Station, and we weren't," said St. Clair quietly. "It's our turn now."

"Right you are, Arthur," said Langdon. "I mean to take this man Milroy with my own hands. I remember that he gave us trouble in Jackson's time. He's been licked once. What right has he to come back into the Valley?"

"He's there," said Harry, "and they say that he's riding it hard with ironshod hoofs."

"He won't be doing it by the time we see you again," said St. Clair confidently as they rode away.

Harry did not see them again for several days, but when Ewell's division rejoined the main army, all that St. Clair predicted had come to pass. St. Clair himself, with his left arm in a sling, where it was to remain for a week, gave him a brief and graphic account of it.

"All the soldiers in the army that he had once led knew how Old Jack loved that town," he said, "and they were on fire to drive the Yankees away from it once more. We marched fast. We were the foot cavalry, just as we used to be; and, do you know, that Cajun band was along with our brigade, as lively as ever. The Yankees had heard of our coming, but late. They had already built forts around Winchester, but they didn't dream until the last moment that a big force from Lee's army was at hand. Their biggest fort was on Applepie Ridge, some little distance from Winchester. We came up late in the afternoon and had to rest a while, as it was awful hot. Then we opened, with General Ewell himself in direct command there. Old Jube Early had gone around to attack their other works, and we were waiting to hear the roaring of his guns.

"We gave it to 'em hot and heavy. General Ewell was on foot—that is, one foot and a crutch—and you ought to have seen him hopping about among the falling cannon balls, watching and ordering everything. Sunset was at hand, with Milroy fighting us back and not dreaming that Early was coming on his flank. Then we heard Early's thunder. In a few minutes his men stormed the fort on the hill next to him and turned its guns upon Milroy himself.

"It was now too dark to go much further with the fighting, and we waited until the next morning to finish the business. But Milroy was a slippery fellow. He slid out in the night somehow with his men, and was five miles away before we knew he had gone. But we followed hard, overtook him, captured four thousand men and twenty-three cannon and scattered the rest in every direction. Wasn't that a thorough job?"

"Stonewall Jackson would never have let them escape through his cordon and get a start of five miles."

"That's so, Harry, Old Jack would never have allowed it. But then, Harry, we've got to remember that there's been only one Stonewall Jackson, and there's no more to come."

"You're telling the whole truth, St. Clair, and if General Ewell did let 'em get away, he caught 'em again. It was a brilliant deed, and it's cleared the Valley of the enemy."

"Our scouts have reported that some of the fugitives have reached Pennsylvania, spreading the alarm there. I suppose they'll be gathering troops in our front now. What's the news from Hooker, Harry?"

"He's moving northwest to head us off, but I don't think he has any clear idea where we're going."

"Where are we going, Harry?"

"It's more than I can tell. Maybe we're aiming for Philadelphia."

"Then there'll be a big stir among the Quakers," said Happy Tom.

"It doesn't matter, young gentlemen, where we're going," said Colonel Talbot, who heard the last words. "It's our business to be led, and we know that we're in the hands of a great leader. And we know, too, that whatever dangers he leads us into, he'll share them to the full. Am I not right, Hector?"

"You speak the full truth, Leonidas."

"Aye, aye, sir," said Harry. "It's sufficient for us to follow where General Lee leads."

"But we need a great victory," said Colonel Talbot. "We've had news from the southwest. The enemy has penetrated too far there. That fellow Grant is a perfect bulldog. They say he actually means to take our fortress of Vicksburg. He always hangs on, and that's bad for us. If we win this war, we've got to win it with some great stroke here in the east."

"You speak with your usual penetration and clearness, Leonidas," said Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire, and then the two rode on, side by side, firm, quiet figures.

Now came days when suspense and fear hung heavy over the land. The sudden blow out of the dark that had destroyed Milroy startled the North. The fugitives from his command told alarming stories of the great Southern force that was advancing. The division of Hill, watching Hooker on the Rappahannock, also dropped into the dark where Lee's main army had already gone. The Army of the Potomac took up its march on a parallel line to the westward, but it was never able to come into close contact with the Army of Northern Virginia. There were clouds of skirmishers and cavalry between.

Undaunted by his narrow escape at Brandy Station, Stuart showed all his old fire and courage, covering the flanks and spreading out a swarm of horsemen who kept off the Northern scouts. Thus Lee was still able to veil his movements in mystery, and the anxious Hooker finally sent forward a great force to find and engage Stuart's cavalry. Stuart, now acting as a rear guard, was overtaken near the famous old battlefield of Manassas. For a long time he fought greatly superior numbers and held them fast until nightfall, when the Northern force, fearing some trap, fell back.

Harry had been sent back with two other staff officers, and from a distance he heard the crash and saw the flame of the battle. But he had no part in it, merely reporting the result late in the night to his general, who speedily pressed on, disregarding what might occur on his flanks or in his rear, sure that his lieutenants could attend to all dangers there.

The days were full of excitement for Harry. While he remained near Lee, the far-flung cavalry continually brought in exciting reports. As Harry saw it, the North was having a taste of what she had inflicted on the South. The news of Milroy's destruction, startling enough in itself, had been magnified as it spread on the wings of rumor. The same rumor enlarged Lee's army and increased the speed of his advance.

Sherburne, recovered from his slight wound, was the most frequent bringer of news. There was not one among all Stuart's officers more daring than he, and he was in his element now, as they rode northward into the enemy's country. He told how the troopers had followed Milroy's fugitives so closely that they barely escaped across the Potomac, and then how the Unionists of Maryland had fled before the gray horsemen.

Sherburne did not exaggerate. Hitherto the war had never really touched the soil of any of the free states, but now it became apparent that Pennsylvania, the second state of the Union in population, would be invaded. Excitement seized Harrisburg, its capital, which Lee's army might reach at any time. People poured over the bridges of the Susquehanna and thousands of men labored night and day to fortify the city.

Jenkins, a Southern cavalry leader, was the first to enter Pennsylvania, his men riding into the village of Greencastle, and proceeding thence to Chambersburg. While the telegraph all over the North told the story of his coming, and many thought that Lee's whole army was at hand, Jenkins turned back. His was merely a small vanguard, and Lee had not yet drawn together his whole army into a compact body.

The advance of Lee with a part of his army was harassed moreover by the Northern cavalry, which continued to show the activity and energy that it had displayed so freely at Pleasanton's battle with Stuart. Harry, besides bearing messages for troops to come up, often saw, as he rode back and forth, the flame of firing on the skyline, and he heard the distant mutter of both rifle and cannon fire. Some of these engagements were fierce and sanguinary. In one, more than a thousand men fell, a half to either side.

Harry was shot at several times on his perilous errands, and once he had a long gallop for safety. Then Lee stopped a while at the Potomac, with his army on both sides of the river. He was waiting to gather all his men together before entering Pennsylvania. Already they were in a country that was largely hostile to them, and now Harry saw the difficulty of getting accurate information. The farmers merely regarded them with lowering brows and refused to say anything about Union troops.

Harry had parted company for the time with his friends of the Invincibles. They were far ahead with Ewell, while he and Dalton remained with Lee on the banks of the Potomac. Yet the delay was not as long as it seemed to him. Soon they took up their march and advanced on a long line across the neck of Maryland into Pennsylvania, here a region of fertile soil, but with many stony outcrops. The little streams were numerous, flowing down to the rivers, and horses and men alike drank thirstily at them, because the weather was now growing hot and the marching was bad.

It was near the close of the month when Harry learned that Hooker had been relieved of the command of the Army of the Potomac at his own request, and that he had been succeeded by Meade.

"Do you know anything about Meade?" he asked Dalton.

"He's been one of the corps commanders against us," replied the Virginian, "and they say he's cautious. That's all I know."

"I think it likely that we'll find out before long what kind of a general he is," said Harry thoughtfully. "We can't invade the North without having a big battle."

The corps of Hill and Longstreet were now joined under the personal eye of Lee, who rode with his two generals. Ewell was still ahead. Finally they came to Chambersburg, which the Southern advance had reached earlier in the month, and Lee issued an order that no devastation should be committed by his troops, an order that was obeyed.

Harry and Dalton walked a little through the town, and menacing looks met them everywhere.

"We've treated 'em well, but they don't like us," he said to Dalton.

"Why should they? We come as invaders, as foes, not as friends. Did our people in the Virginia towns give the Yankees any very friendly looks?"

"Not that I've heard of. I suppose you can't make friends of a people whom you come to make war on, even if you do speak kind words to them."

"Is General Stuart here?" asked Dalton.

"No, he's gone on a great raid with his whole force. I suppose he's going to sweep up many detachments of the enemy."

"And meanwhile we're going on to Harrisburg, the capital of Pennsylvania."

"But it seems to me that Stuart ought to be with us."

"Maybe he's gone to find out just where the Army of the Potomac is. We've lost Meade, and Meade has lost us. Some prisoners that we've brought in say that nobody in the North knows just where our army is, although all know that it's in Pennsylvania."

But that night, while Harry was at General Lee's headquarters, a scout arrived with news that the Army of the Potomac was advancing upon an almost parallel line and could throw itself in his rear. Other scouts came, one after another, with the same report. Harry saw the gravity with which the news was received, and he speedily gathered from the talk of those about him that Lee must abandon his advance to the Pennsylvania capital and turn and fight, or be isolated far from Virginia, the Southern base.

Stuart and the cavalry were still absent on a great raid. Lee's orders to Stuart were not explicit, and the cavalry leader's ardent soul gave to them the widest interpretation. Now they felt the lack of his horsemen, who in the enemy's country could have obtained abundant information. A spy had brought them the news that the Army of the Potomac had crossed the Potomac and was marching on a parallel line with them, but at that point their knowledge ended. The dark veil, which was to be lifted in such a dramatic and terrible manner, still hung between the two armies.

The weather turned very warm, as it was now almost July. So far as the heat was concerned Harry could not see any difference between Pennsylvania and Kentucky and Virginia. In all three the sun blazed at this time of the year, but the country was heavy with crops, now ripening fast. It was a region that Harry liked. He had a natural taste for broken land with slopes, forests, and many little streams of clear water. Most of the fields were enclosed in stone fences, and the great barns and well-built houses indicated prosperous farmers.

He and Dalton rode up to one of these houses, and, finding every door and window closed, knocked on the front door with a pistol butt. They knew it was occupied, as they had seen smoke coming from the chimney.

"This house surely belongs to a Dutchman," said Dalton, meaning one of those Pennsylvanians of German descent who had settled in the rich southeast of Pennsylvania generations ago.

"I fear they don't know how to talk English," said Harry.

"They can if they have to. Hit that door several times more, Harry, and hit it hard. They're a thrifty people, and they wouldn't like to see a good door destroyed."

Harry beat a resounding tattoo until the door was suddenly thrown open and the short figure of a man of middle years, chin-whiskered and gray, but holding an old-fashioned musket in his hands, confronted them.

"Put down that gun, Herr Schneider! Put it down at once!" said Dalton, who had already levelled his pistol.

The man was evidently no coward, but when he looked into Dalton's eye, he put the musket on the floor.

Harry, still sitting on his horse—they had ridden directly up to the front door—saw a stalwart woman and several children hovering in the dusk of the room behind the man. He watched the whole group, but he left the examination to Dalton.

"I want you to tell me, Herr Schneider, the location of the Army of the Potomac, down to the last gun and man, and what are the intentions of General Meade," said Dalton.

The man shook his head and said, "Nein."

"Nine!" said Dalton indignantly. "General Meade has more than nine men with him! Come, out with the story! All those tales about the rebels coming to burn and destroy are just tales, and nothing more. You understand what I'm saying well enough. Come, out with your information!"

"Nein," said the German.

"All right," said Dalton in a ferocious tone. "After all, we are the rebel ogres that you thought we were."

He turned toward his comrade and, with his back toward the German, winked and said:

"What do you think I'd better do with him?"

"Oh, kill him," replied Harry carelessly. "He's broad between the eyes and there's plenty of room there for a bullet. You couldn't miss at two yards."

The German made a dive toward his musket, but Dalton cried sharply:

"Hands up or I shoot!"

The German straightened himself and, holding his hands aloft, said:

"You would not kill me in the shelter uf mein own house?"

"Well, that depends on the amount of English you know. It seems to me, Herr Schneider, that you learned our language very suddenly."

"I vas a man who learns very fast when it vas necessary. Mein brain vorks in a manner most vonderful ven I looks down the barrel of a big pistol."

"This pistol is a marvelous stimulant to a good education."

"How did you know mein name vas Schneider?"

"Intuition, Herr Schneider! Intuition! We Southern people have wonderful intuitive faculties."

"Vell, it vas not Schneider. My name vas Jacob Onderdonk."

Harry laughed and Dalton reddened.

"The joke is on me, Mr. Onderdonk," said Dalton. "But we're here on a serious errand. Where is General Meade?"

"I haf not had my regular letter from General Meade this morning. Vilhelmina, you are sure ve haf noddings from General Meade?"

"Noddings, Jacob," she said.

Dalton flushed again and muttered under his breath.

"We want to know," he said sharply, "if you have seen the Army of the Potomac or heard anything of it."

A look of deep sadness passed over the face of Jacob Onderdonk.

"I haf one great veakness," he said, "one dot makes my life most bitter. I haf de poorest memory in de vorld. Somedimes I forget de face of mein own Vilhelmina. Maybe de Army uf de Potomac, a hundred thousand men, pass right before my door yesterday. Maybe, as der vedder vas hot, that efery one uf dem hundred thousand men came right into der house und take a cool drink out uf der water bucket. But I cannot remember. Alas, my poor memory!"

"Then maybe Wilhelmina remembers."

"Sh! do not speak uf dot poor voman. I do not let her go out uf der house dese days, as she may not be able to find der vay back in again."

"We'd better go, George," said Harry. "I think we only waste time asking questions of such a forgetful family."

"It iss so," said Onderdonk; "but, young Mister Rebels, I remember one thing."

"And what is that?" asked Dalton.

"It vas a piece of advice dot I ought to gif you. You tell dot General Lee to turn his horse's head and ride back to der South. You are good young rebels. I can see it by your faces. Ride back to der South, I tell you again. We are too many for you up here. Der field uf corn iss so thick und so long dot you cannot cut your way through it. Your knife may be sharp and heavy, but it vill vear out first. Do I not tell the truth, Vilhelmina, mein vife?"

"All your life you haf been a speaker of der truth, Hans, mein husband."

"I think you're a poor prophet, Mr. Onderdonk," said Dalton. "We recognize, however, the fact that we can't get any information out of you. But we ask one thing of you."

"Vat iss dot?"

"Please to remember that while we two are rebels, as you call them, we neither burn nor kill. We have offered you no rudeness whatever, and the Army of Northern Virginia is composed of men of the same kind."

"I vill remember it," said Onderdonk gravely, and as they saluted him politely, he returned the salute.

"Not a bad fellow, I fancy," said Harry, as they rode away.

"No, but our stubborn enemy, all the same. Wherever our battle is fought we'll find a lot of these Pennsylvania Dutchmen standing up to us to the last."

Harry and Dalton rejoined the staff, bringing with them no information of value, and they marched slowly on another day, camping in the cool of the evening, both armies now being lost to the anxious world that waited and sought to find them.

Lee himself, as Harry gathered from the talk about him, was uncertain. He did not wish a battle now, but his advance toward the Susquehanna had been stopped by the news that the Army of the Potomac could cut in behind. The corps of Ewell had been recalled, and Harry, as he rode to it with a message from his general, saw his old friends again. They were in a tiny village, the name of which he forgot, and Colonel Talbot and Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire, sitting in the main room of what was used as a tavern in times of peace, had resumed the game of chess, interrupted so often. Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire was in great glee, just having captured a pawn, and Colonel Talbot was eager and sure of revenge, when Harry entered and stated that he had delivered an order to General Ewell to fall back yet farther.

"Most untimely! Most untimely!" exclaimed Colonel Talbot, as they rapidly put away the board and chessmen. "I was just going to drive Hector into a bad corner, when you came and interrupted us."

"You are my superior officer, Leonidas," said Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire, "but remember that this superiority applies only to military rank. I assert now, with all respect to your feelings, that in regard to chess it does not exist, never has and never will."

"Opinions, Hector, are—opinions. Time alone decides whether they are or are not facts. But our corps is to fall back, you say, Harry? What does it signify?"

"I think, Colonel, that it means a great battle very soon. It is apparent that General Lee thinks so, or he would not be concentrating his troops so swiftly. The Army of the Potomac is somewhere on our flank, and we shall have to deal with it."

"So be it. The Invincibles are few but ready."

Harry rode rapidly back to Lee with the return message from Ewell, and found him going into camp on the eve of the last day of June. The weather was hot and scarcely any tents were set, nearly everybody preferring the open air. Harry delivered his message, and General Lee said to him, with his characteristic kindness:

"You'd better go to sleep as soon as you can, because I shall want you to go on another errand in the morning to a place called Gettysburg."

Gettysburg! Gettysburg! He had never heard the name before and it had absolutely no significance to him now. But he saluted, withdrew, procured his blankets and joined Dalton.

"The General tells me, George, that I'm to go to Gettysburg," he said. "What's Gettysburg, and why does he want me to go there?"

"I'm to be with you, Harry, and we're both going with a flying column, in order that we may report upon its conduct and achievements. So I've made inquiries. It's a small town surrounded by hills, but it's a great center for roads. We're going there because it's got a big shoe factory. Our role is to be that of shoe buyers. Harry, stick out your feet at once!"

Harry thrust them forward.

"One sole worn through. The heel gone from the other shoe, and even then you're better off than most of us. Lots of the privates are barefooted. So you needn't think that the role of shoe buyer is an ignominious one."

"I'll be ready," said Harry. "Call me early in the morning, George. We're a long way from home, and the woods are not full of friends. Getting up here in these Pennsylvania hills, one has to look pretty hard to look away down South in Dixie."