CHANCELLORSVILLE  
Harry and Dalton sat down on a tiny hillock and waited while the two generals carried on their long conference, to which now and then they summoned McLaws, Anderson, Pender and other division or brigade commanders. The two lads even then felt the full import of that memorable night.
 
Nature herself had stripped away all softness, leaving only sternness and desolation for the terrible drama which was about to be played in the Wilderness. The night was dark, and to Harry's imaginative mind the forest turned to some vast stretch of the ancient, primitive world.
 
Naturally cheerful and usually alive with the optimism of youth, the air seemed to him that night to be filled with menacing signals. Often he started at familiar sounds. The clank of arms to which he had been so long used sent a chill down his spine. As the campfires died, the gloom that hung over the Wilderness became for him heavier and more ominous.
 
"What's the matter, Harry?" asked Dalton, catching a glimpse of his face in the moonlight.
 
"I don't know, George. I suppose this war is getting on my nerves. I must be looking too much into the future. Anyway, I'm oppressed to-night, and I don't know what it is that's oppressing me so much."
 
"I don't feel that way. Maybe I'm becoming blunted. But the generals are talking a long time."
 
"I suppose they have need to do a lot of talking, George. You know how small our army is, and we can't rush Hooker behind the strong intrenchments they say he has thrown up. Oh, if only Longstreet and his corps were back with us!"
 
"Well, Longstreet and his men are not here, and we'll have to do the best we can without them. Hold up your head, Harry. Lee and Jackson will find a way."
 
While Lee and Jackson and their generals conferred, another conference was going on three miles away at the Chancellor House in the depths of the Wilderness. Hooker, a brave man, who had proved his courage more than once, was bewildered and uneasy. He lacked the experience in supreme command in which his great antagonist, Lee, was so rich. The field telegraph had broken down just before sunset, and his subordinates, Sedgwick and Reynolds, brave men too, who had divisions elsewhere, were vague and uncertain in their movements. Hooker did not know what to expect from them.
 
Some of the generals, chafing at retreat before a force which they knew to be smaller than their own, wanted to march out and attack in the morning. Hooker, suddenly grown prudent, awed perhaps by his great responsibilities, wished to contract his camp and build intrenchments yet stronger. He compromised at last amid varying counsels, and decided to hold his present intrenched lines along their full length. His gallant officers on the extended right and left were indignant at the thought of withdrawing before the enemy, sure that they could beat him back every time.
 
But there were bolder spirits at the Southern headquarters, three miles away. Lee and Jackson always saw clearly and were always able to decide upon a course. Besides, their need was far more desperate. The Southern army did not increase in numbers. Victories brought few new men to its standards. Winning, it held its own, and losing, it lost everything. Before it stood the Army of the Potomac, outnumbering it two to one, and behind that army stood a great nation ready to pour forth more men by the hundreds of thousands and more money by the hundreds of millions to save the union.
 
Harry, leaning against a bush, fell into a light doze, from which Dalton aroused him bye and bye. But the habit of war made him awake fully and instantly. Every faculty was alive. He arose to his feet and saw that Lee and Jackson were just parting. A faint moon shone over the Wilderness, revealing but little of the great army which lay in its thickets.
 
"I fancy that the plan which will give us either victory or defeat is arranged," said Dalton.
 
But neither Harry nor Dalton was called, and bye and bye they sank into another doze. They were awakened toward morning by Sherburne, who stood before them holding his horse by the bridle. The horse was wet with foam, and it was evident that he had been ridden far and hard.
 
"What is it?" asked Harry, springing to his feet. "I've been riding with General Stuart," replied Sherburne, who looked worn and weary, but nevertheless exultant. "How many miles we've ridden I'll never know, but we've been along the whole Northern front and around their wings. With the help of Fitz Lee we've discovered their weak point. The Northern left, fortified in the thickets, is impossible. We'd merely beat ourselves to pieces against it; but their right has no protection at all, that is, no trenches or breastworks. I thought you boys might be wanted presently, and, as I saw you sleeping here, I've awakened you. Look down there and you'll see something that I think the Northern army has cause to dread."
 
Harry and Dalton looked at a little open space in the center of which Lee and Jackson sat, having met for another talk, each on an empty cracker box, taken from a heap which the Northern army had left behind when it withdrew the day before. The generals faced each other and two or three men were standing by. One of them was a major named Hotchkiss, whom Harry knew.
 
Harry and Dalton did not hear the words said, but one of those present subsequently told them much that was spoken at this last and famous conference. A man named Welford had recently cut a road toward the northwest through the Wilderness in order that he might haul wood and iron ore to a furnace that he had built. He had certainly never dreamed of the far more important purpose to which this road would be put, but he had been found at his home by Hotchkiss, the major, and, zealous for the South, he had given him the information that was of so much value. He had also volunteered to guide the troops along his road and he had marked it on a map which the major carried.
 
"What is your report, Major Hotchkiss?" asked General Lee.
 
The major took a cracker box from the heap, put it between the two generals, and spread his map upon it, pointing to Welford's road. The two generals studied it attentively, and then Lee asked Jackson what he would suggest. Jackson traced the road with his finger and replied that he would like to follow it with his whole corps and fall upon the Northern flank. He suggested that he leave his commander with only a small force to make a noisy demonstration in the Northern front, while Jackson was executing his great turning movement.
 
Lee considered it only a few moments and agreed. Then he wrote brief and crisp instructions, and when he finished, General Jackson rose to his feet, his face illumined with eagerness. He was absolutely confident that he would succeed in the daring deed he was about to undertake.
 
"It's over," said Dalton. "Whatever it is, we start on it at once."
 
Jackson beckoned to all his staff, and soon Harry, Dalton and the others were busy carrying orders for a great march that Jackson was about to begin. Many of these orders related to secrecy. The ranks were to be kept absolutely close and compact. If anybody straggled he was to receive the bayonet.
 
The Invincibles were in the vanguard. Harry and Dalton were near, behind Jackson. Harry could speak now and then with his friends.
 
"It's the Second Manassas over again, isn't it, Harry?" said St. Clair.
 
"If it is, why do we seem to be marching away from the enemy?"
 
"I don't know any more than you do. But I take it that when Stonewall Jackson draws back from the enemy he merely does it in order to make a bigger jump. We all know that."
 
The dark South Carolinian, Bertrand, was riding just in front of them. Now he turned suddenly and said:
 
"St. Clair, we're about to go into a great battle, and I've felt for some time that I provoked the quarrel with you. I'm sorry and I apologize."
 
St. Clair looked astonished, but he was not one to refuse so manly an advance.
 
"That's so, Captain, we did have a quarrel," he said, "but I had forgotten it. It's not necessary for anybody to apologize where there's no rancor."
 
He took Bertrand's hand in a hearty grasp, which Bertrand returned with equal vigor. Then the captain pushed his horse and rode a little ahead of them.
 
"Now, that was a singular thing," said Dalton, who came of a deeply religious family, "and to my mind it was predestined."
 
"Predestined?"
 
"Yes, predestined! Decreed! Captain Bertrand is going to die. He'll be killed in the coming battle. He was moved to make up the quarrel which he forced on St. Clair because of his approaching fate, although he does not know of it himself."
 
"Come, come, George! So much battle has keyed your mind too highly."
 
But Dalton shook his head and remained resolute in his belief.
 
Harry's confidence returned with action and the glorious flush of a May morning. They had started after dawn. A splendid sun was rising in a sky of satin blue. It even gilded the somber foliage of the Wilderness, and the spirits of all the men in the great corps rose.
 
Jackson stopped presently with his staff and let some of the regiments file past him. General Lee was awaiting him there and the two talked briefly. Harry saw that both were firm and confident. It was rare with him, but Jackson's face was flushed and his eyes shining. He lingered for only a few moments, and then rode on with his column. Lee's eyes followed him, but he and his great lieutenant had spoken together for the last time.
 
Now they settled into silence, save for the marching sounds, of which the most dominant was the rumbling of the artillery. But all the men in the great column knew that they were embarked upon some mighty movement. Very few asked themselves what it was. Nor did they care. They put their faith in the great leader who had always led them to victory. He could lead them where he chose.
 
A light wind arose and the bushes and scrub forest of the Wilderness moved gently like the surface of a lake. But that forest, as dense as ever, extended on all sides of them and hid the tens of thousands who marched in its shade.
 
Harry presently heard the rolling of artillery fire and the distant crash of rifles behind them. But he knew that it was Lee with the minor portion of his army making the demonstration in Hooker's front, deceiving him into the belief that he was about to be attacked by the whole Southern army, while Jackson with his main force was making the wide circuit under cover of the Wilderness in order to fall like a thunderbolt upon his flank.
 
Harry admired the daring of his two leaders, and at the same time he trembled with apprehension. They had split their force, already far smaller, in the face of the foe. Suppose that foe, with his army of splendid fighters, should come suddenly from his intrenchments and attack either division. Surely the Northern scouts and spies were in the thickets. So great a movement as this could not escape their attention. It would be impossible for a large army to pass on that journey of many miles around Hooker and not one of the hundred thousand men he had in the Wilderness bring him a word of it.
 
They might be discovered by one of the balloons, and Harry strained his eyes toward the far Rappahannock. He saw a black speck floating in the sky, which he thought to be one of the balloons, and he felt a little dread, but in a moment he realized that Jackson's army was as completely hidden by the Wilderness from any such possible observer as if a blanket lay over it. Then he dismissed all thoughts of balloons and rode on in silence beside Dalton.
 
Now he listened to the roar behind them. It had the violence of a great battle, but he noticed that the sounds neither advanced nor retreated. He smiled a little. Lee was still amusing Hooker, but it was a grim amusement.
 
A long time passed. Although the army could not move fast in the Wilderness, its march was steady. The roar of Lee's attack had become subdued, but Harry knew that the effect was due only to distance. His trained ear told him that the demonstration in Hooker's front, instead of decreasing, had increased in vigor. It was assuming the proportions of a real battle, and with thickets and forests to obscure sight, Hooker might well believe that the whole Southern army was yet in front of him.
 
The onward march had become rhythmic now. It was to Harry like the regular throbbing of a pulse. The tread of many men, the beat of horses' hoofs, and the clanking of guns melted into one musical note. The sun crept slowly up, gilding thickets and forests with pure gold. The sky was still an unbroken blue, save for the little white clouds that floated in its bosom. The breeze of that May morning was wonderfully crisp and fresh. It came tingling with life to the thousands, so many of whom were about to die.
 
It seemed to Harry as they went on through the thickets of the Wilderness that the union scouts would never discover them, but Northern troops on an open eminence of Hazel Grove had seen a long column moving away through the thickets and made report of it to the Northern generals. But these leaders did not understand it. They had not grasped the great daring of Jackson's march.
 
They believed that Lee was merely extending his lines, but an hour before noon a battery opened fire from a hill upon the marching Confederate column. Harry and Dalton heard shrapnel whizzing over their heads. After the first involuntary shiver they regained the calm of youthful veterans and rode on in silence.
 
But the fire of the Northern artillery was damaging, even at great range. Shells and shrapnel sprayed showers of steel over the column. Men were killed and others wounded. 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.
 
The curiosity of the union generals in regard to that marching column increased. Several of them appealed to Hooker to let them advance in force and see what it was. Sickles was allowed to go out with a strong division, but instead of reaching Jackson he was confronted by a portion of Lee's force, thrown forward to meet him, and the battle was so fierce that Sickles was compelled to send for help. A formidable force came and drove the Southern division before it, but the vigilant Jackson, informed by his scouts of what was happening behind him, turned his rear guard to meet the attack, and Sickles was driven off a second time with great loss. Then Jackson's men quickly rejoined him and they continued their march, the vanguard, in fact, never having stopped.
 
Harry took no part in this, but from a distance he saw much of it. Once more he admired the surpassing alertness and vigor of Jackson, who never seemed to make a mistake, a man who was able while on a great march to detach men for the help of his chief, while never ceasing to pursue his main object.
 
The Northern forces, although they had fought bravely, retreated, and the great movement that was going on remained hidden from them. The gap between Lee and Jackson was growing wider, but they did not know it was there. Hooker's retreat with his great army into the Wilderness had given his enemies a chance to befog and bewilder him.
 
Harry's supreme confidence returned. All things seemed possible to his chief, and once more they were marching, unimpeded. It was now much past noon, and they turned into a new road, leading north through the thickets.
 
"It scarcely seems possible that we can pass around a great army in this way," said Dalton; "but, Harry, I'm beginning to believe the general will do it."
 
"Of course he will," said Harry. "It's Old Jack's chief pleasure to do impossible things. He leaves the possible to ordinary men. See him. He didn't even stop to look back while our rear guard returned to help drive off the Yankees."
 
The sun was near the zenith and the afternoon grew warm. They had come upon hard, dry paths, and under the tread of the army great clouds of dust arose, but it did not float high in the air, the thick boughs of the trees and bushes catching it. But as it hovered so close to the ground it made the breathing of the soldiers difficult and painful. It rasped their throats, and soon they began to burn with the heat. Many fell exhausted beside the paths, but they were helped by their comrades or were put into the wagons, and the long column of steel never ceased to wind onward.
 
Near the middle of the afternoon, when they were about to cross the western extension of the plank road, a young cavalry officer galloped up and rode straight for Jackson. It was Fitzhugh Lee, whose services were great at Chancellorsville. His glowing face showed that he brought news of great importance.
 
As he saluted, General Jackson checked his horse and Harry heard his general ask:
 
"You bring news. What is it?"
 
"I do, sir," responded young Lee eagerly. "I have something to show you. A great Northern force is only a short distance away, and it does not suspect your advance at all. If you will come with me to the crest of a little hill here, I can show them to you."
 
Jackson never hesitated a moment, signing to Harry to follow him, evidently meaning to use him as a courier, if need arose. The three then turned and rode through the bushes toward the hill, and Harry's heart beat so hard that it gave him an actual physical pain when he looked down on the sight below. He glanced at Jackson and saw that his face was flushed and his eyes glowing.
 
They were gazing upon a great Northern force which was to protect Hooker's right. Its first lines were only three or four hundred yards away. There were breastworks and other lines of defense running far through the forest, positions that were formidable, but not manned at this moment by riflemen or cannoneers. Rifles were stacked neatly behind the intrenchments, extending in a long line as far as they could see. Thousands of soldiers were sitting on the grass and among the bushes, some asleep, some playing games, while others were cooking, reading newspapers sent from the North, and some were singing. It was a picture of idleness and ease in a camp, and not one among them suspected that thirty thousand veterans of the South, led by Stonewall Jackson himself, were within rifle shot, hidden under the vast canopy of the Wilderness.
 
Harry drew a deep breath, and then another. It was extraordinary, unbelievable, but it was true. He looked again at Jackson and saw that his eyes were still burning with blue fire. The general gazed for five minutes, but never said a word. Then he turned and rode down the hill, and swiftly the word was passed through the army that they would soon be upon the enemy.
 
"What is it, Harry?" asked St. Clair eagerly, as Harry rode along the lines with a message for a general for whom he was looking.
 
"They're just over there," replied Harry, nodding toward his right.
 
"And they don't know we're here?"
 
"They don't dream it."
 
"And Lee and Jackson have got 'em in the trap again?"
 
"It looks like it."
 
Then Harry was gone with his message. And he bore other messages, and like most of those he had borne earlier, their burden was secrecy and silence. He never forgot any detail of that memorable day. Years afterwards he could shut his eyes at any time and see the eve of Chancellorsville in all its vivid colors, thirty thousand Southern troops lying hidden in the thickets, General Jackson, followed by himself and two other aides, riding upon the hill again and taking one more look at the unsuspecting enemy below, the spreading out of the cavalry like a curtain between them and Howard's corps to keep even a single stray Northern picket or scout from seeing the mortal danger at hand, and then Jackson dismounting and, seated on a stump, writing to Lee that he was on the enemy's flank and would attack as soon as possible. Harry was in fear lest the general should choose him to carry back the dispatch, as he wished to stay with the corps and see what happened, but the duty was assigned to another man.
 
Confidence meanwhile reigned in the union army. In the morning Hooker had ridden around his whole line, and cheers received him as he came. Scouts had brought him word that Jackson was moving, and he had taken note of the encounter with the rearguard of Stonewall's force. But as that force continued its march into the deep forest and disappeared from sight, the brave and sanguine Hooker was confirmed in his opinion that the whole Southern army was retreating. His belief was so firm that he sent a dispatch to Sedgwick, commanding the detached force near Fredericksburg, to pursue vigorously, as the enemy was fleeing in an effort to save his train.
 
While Hooker was writing this dispatch the "fleeing enemy," led by the greatest of Lee's lieutenants, lay in full force on his flank, almost within rifle-shot, preparing with calmness and in detail for one of the greatest blows ever dealt in war. Truly no soldiers ever deserved higher praise than those of the Army of the Potomac, who, often misled and mismanaged by second-rate men, grew better and better after every defeat, and never failed to go into battle zealous and full of courage.
 
It seemed almost incredible to Harry, who had twice looked down upon them, that the whole union right should remain ignorant of Jackson's presence. Twenty-eight regiments and six batteries strong, the Northern troops were now getting ready to cook their suppers, and there was much laughter and talk as they looked around at the forest and wondered when they would be sent in pursuit of the fleeing enemy. Six of the regiments were composed of men born in Germany, or the sons of Germans, drawn from the great cities of the North, little used to the forests and thickets and having the stiffness of Germans on parade. They were at the first point of exposure, and they were certainly no match for the formidable foe who was creeping nearer and nearer.
 
Not all the country here was in forest. There were some fields, a little wooden cottage on a hill, and in the fields a small house of worship called the Wilderness Church. It was the little church of Shiloh and the Dunkard church of Antietam over again.
 
Harry and Dalton in the front of the lines often saw the gleam of Northern guns and Northern bayonets through the foliage, but there was still no sign that anyone in the Northern right flank dreamed of their presence. Evidently the unconscious thousands there thought that all chance of battle had passed until the morrow. The sun was already going down the western heavens, and behind them in the Wilderness the first shadows were gathering.
 
Jackson's troops were filled with confidence and exultation. As they formed for battle among the trees and bushes they too talked, and with the freedom of republican troops, who fight all the better for it, they chaffed the young officers, especially the aides, as they passed. Harry received the full benefit of it.
 
"Sit up straight in the saddle, sonny. Don't dodge the bullets!"
 
"You haven't told the Yanks that we're comin'."
 
"Will me that hoss if you get shot. I always did like a bay boss."
 
"Tell old Hooker that we jest had to arrange a surprise party for him."
 
"Tell 'em to make way there in front. We want to git into the fuss before it's all over."
 
"Tell Old Jack I'm here and that he can begin the battle."
 
Harry smiled, and sometimes chaffed back. They were boys together. Most of the troops in either army were very young. He recognized that all this talk was the product of exuberant spirits, and officers much older than he, chaffed in a like manner, took it in the same way.
 
But as they drew nearer, orders that all noise should cease were given, and officers were ready to enforce them. But there was little need for sternness. The soldiers themselves understood and obeyed. They were as eager as the officers to achieve a splendid triumph, and it remains a phenomenon of history how a great army came creeping, creeping within rifle shot of another, and its presence yet remained unknown.
 
The Southern lines now stretched for a long distance through the forest, cutting across a turnpike, down which the muzzles of four heavy guns pointed. The cavalry, not far away, were holding back their magnificent horses. Harry saw Sherburne on their flank nearest to him, and a smile of triumph passed between them. Off in the forest the strong division of A. P. Hill was advancing, the sound of their coming audible to the South but not to the North.
 
For an hour and a half the formation of the Southern army went on. Despite the danger of discovery, present every moment, Jackson was resolved to perfect his preparations for the attack. He was calm, methodical, and showed no emotion now, however much he may have felt it. Harry rode back and forth, sometimes with him and sometimes alone, carrying messages. He expected every instant to hear the crack of some Northern scout's rifle and his shout of alarm, but the incredible not only happened—it kept on happening. There was not a single Northern skirmisher in the bushes. The only sounds that came from their camp to the Southern scouts were the clatter of dishes and the laughter of youths who knew that no danger was near.
 
The sun was far down the western arch, and it seemed to Harry for a moment or two that no battle might occur that day, but a glance at Jackson and his incessant activity showed him he was mistaken. The arrangements were now almost complete. In front were the skirmishers, then the first line, and a little behind it the second line, and then Hill with the third line. Although they stood in thick forest, the lines were even and regular, despite trees and bushes.
 
The Invincibles were in the second line. Owing to the density of the forest, the two colonels and their young staff officers had dismounted. Harry passed them, and Colonel Talbot said to him:
 
"Do you know when we'll advance, Harry?"
 
"It can't be much longer. What time is it, Colonel?"
 
Colonel Talbot opened his watch, looked carefully at the face, and as he closed it again and put it back in his pocket, he replied gravely:
 
"It's five forty-five o'clock of a memorable afternoon, Harry."
 
"It's true, Leonidas," said Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire, "and whatever happens to us, it will be a pleasure to us both to know, even beyond the grave, that we have served long under the Christian soldier and great genius, Stonewall Jackson."
 
"You'll both go through it," said Harry. "I know you'll be with us when our victorious army goes over the Long Bridge and enters Washington."
 
St. Clair and Langdon stood near, but said nothing. Harry saw that they were enveloped by the mystery, the vastness and the terrible grandeur of the occasion. So he said nothing to them, but rode back toward his commander. Then he glanced again at the sun and saw that it was low, filling all the western heavens with bars of red and yellow and gold. He looked once again at that formidable line of battle, stretching in either direction through the forest farther than he could see, the soldiers eager, excited and straining hard at the hand that held them there so firmly. It seemed now that nothing was left to be done, and the time had grown to six o'clock in the evening.
 
Jackson turned to Rodes, who commanded the first line of battle, just in the rear of the skirmishers, and said:
 
"Are you ready, General?"
 
"Aye, aye, sir."
 
"Then charge," said Jackson.
 
Rodes nodded toward the leader of the skirmishers, who gave the word. A powerful man put a glittering brazen bugle to his throat and blew a long, mellow note that was heard far through the forest. It was followed by a shout poured from thirty thousand throats, the guns in the turnpike fired a terrible volley straight into the union camp, and then the whole army of Jackson, line upon line, rushed from the thickets and hurled itself upon its foe.
 
The Northern army was paralyzed for a moment. Never was surprise more sudden and terrific. Brave as anybody, the union men rushed to their arms, but there was no time to use them. The flood was upon them and overwhelmed them. The German regiments were cut to pieces in an instant, and the demoralized survivors retreated into the mass. Elsewhere a battery was manned and stopped for a moment the Southern advance, but only for a moment. It, too, was overwhelmed by the Southern artillery which rushed forward, firing as fast as the cannoneers could load and reload.
 
Jackson himself was with his artillery, shouting to them and encouraging them, and Harry, trying to follow him, found it hard to keep clear of the guns. The second and third lines of the Southern army pressed forward with the first, and the terrific impact overwhelmed everything. The Northern officers showed supreme courage in their attempt to stem the rout. Everyone on horseback was either killed or wounded, and their bravery and self-sacrifice were in vain. Nothing could stem the relentless tide that poured upon them. Harry had never before seen the Southern troops so exultant. Jackson's march of a whole day, unseen, almost by the side of the enemy, and then his sudden attack upon his right flank, made their battle rush fierce and irresistible. They might be stayed for a few moments, but they swept on and on, carrying before them the blue brigades.
 
The scene, while extraordinarily vivid to Harry, was nevertheless wild and confused. The fire of the cannon and rifles on a long line was so rapid and terrific that he was almost blinded by the incessant blaze, which was like one solid sheet of flame. The dense smoke gathered once more among the bushes and trees and the forest was filling with a tremendous shouting.
 
Harry kept as close as he could to his general, who was now in the very heart of the conflict. But it was a difficult task. His clothing was torn by bushes and briars, and boughs whipped him across the face. Now and then in a rift in the smoke he beheld a terrible sight. The ground was covered with the arms and blankets and tents of the union army. Ahead of them were great masses of men, retreating and jammed among the wagons. The horses, many of them wounded, were running about, neighing in pain and terror. Officers, their uniforms often red from wounds, were rushing everywhere, seeking to stay the panic.
 
Yet the union officers at last succeeded in getting some order out of the chaos. A battery was rallied on a hill and threw a sleet of steel on the charging men in gray. Some of the seasoned infantry regiments were managing to form a line and they were beginning to send back a rifle fire. Harry felt that the resistance in front of them was hardening a little.
 
But as usual the eye of Jackson saw everything, even through the flame and smoke and confusion of a battle fought in dense forests and thickets.
 
He galloped up the turnpike himself, his staff hot at his heels, and shouting to the gunners and pointing forward, he urged on the artillery. Then he rode among the infantry, and they, as eager as he, rushed on at increased speed. Yet the Northern resistance was still hardening. Some of the German regiments atoned for their earlier panic by reforming and making a brave resistance. Other regiments formed behind a breastwork.
 
"They are going to make a bold stand," shouted Harry to Dalton.
 
"But it will not help them," the Virginian replied.
 
The Southern battle front, which for a few minutes had lost cohesion, now swelled higher than ever. Led by Jackson in person, nearly all the officers in front sword in hand, the whole division with a mighty shout charged. Harry saw the Invincibles in the first line, the two colonels, one on either flank, waving their swords and their faces young again with the battle fire. But it was only a glimpse. Then they were lost from his sight in the fire and smoke.
 
There could be no sufficient defense against the charge of such a foe, numerous, prepared and wild with victory. They swept over the breastwork, they seized the cannon, they took prisoners, and before them they swept the right wing of the union army in irreparable rout and confusion. Harry had not seen its like in the whole war, nor was he destined to see it again. An entire corps had been annihilated. The Wilderness was filled with the fragments of regiments seeking to join the main force with Hooker at Chancellorsville.
 
Harry thought Jackson would stop. They were now in the deep woods. The sun was almost gone. The shadows from the east had crept over the whole sky, and it was already dark among the dense thickets of the Wilderness. An hour had passed since the first rush, and few generals would have had the daring to push on in the forest, dark already and rapidly growing darker. But Jackson was one of the few. He continued to urge on his men, and he sent his staff officers galloping back and forth to help in the task. There was a road in the very rear of Hooker. He intended to seize it, and he was resolved before the night closed down utterly to plant himself so firmly against the very center of the union army that Hooker's complete defeat in the morning would be sure.
 
The bugles sang the charge again all along the Southern line, and in the dying twilight, lit by the flame of cannon and rifles, they swept forward, driving all resistance before them.
 
It was one of the most appalling moments in the history of a nation which has had to win its way with immense toil and through many dangers. Hooker, brave, not lacking in ability, but far from being a match for the extraordinary combination that faced him, two men of genius working in perfect harmony, had been sitting with two of his staff officers on the portico of the Chancellor House. He was serene and confident. He knew the courage of his soldiers and their numbers. The cannonade in his front had died down. He was a full-faced man, ruddy and stalwart, and with his powerful army of veterans he felt equal to anything. There was nothing to indicate that the Southern army was not in full retreat, as he had stated in his dispatch earlier in the day. The thought of Jackson had passed out of his mind for the time, because his long columns, he was sure, were marching farther and farther away.
 
Hooker, as the cool of the later afternoon, so pleasant after the heat of the day, came on, felt an increase of satisfaction. All his great forces would be massed in the morning. Now and then he heard in the east the far sound of cannon like muttering thunder on the horizon, but after a while it ceased entirely. He heard that distant thunder in the south, too, but it passed farther and farther away, and he felt sure that it came from his valiant guns hanging on the rear guard of the retreating Jackson.
 
One wonders what must be the feelings of a man who, sitting in apparent security, is suddenly plunged into a terrible pit. Commanders less able than Hooker have had better luck. What had he to fear? With one hundred and thirty thousand veterans of the Army of the Potomac within call, almost any other general in his place would have felt a like security. But he had not fathomed fully the daring and skill of the two men who confronted him.
 
It is related that on the approach of that memorable evening there was a remarkable peace and quiet at the Chancellor House itself. Hooker was conversing quietly with his aides. Officers inside the house were copying orders. The distant mutter of the guns that came now and then was harmonious and rather soothing. The east was already darkening and it seemed that a quiet sun would set over the Wilderness.
 
The cannonade in the south seemed to pass into a new direction, but the officers at the Chancellor House did not give it much attention. Hooker was still quiet and confident. Suddenly a terrific crash of cannon fire came from a point in the northwest. It was followed by another and then others, so swiftly that they merged. It never ceased for an instant and it rapidly rolled nearer. Hooker and his officers leaped to their feet and gazed appalled at the forest whence came those ominous sounds. An officer ran upon the plank road and took a look through his glasses.
 
"Good God!" he cried, as he turned quickly back. "Here they come!"
 
Down the road was pouring a mass of fugitives, and they brought with them news that did not suffer in the telling, either in magnitude or color. Stonewall Jackson and the bulk of the rebel army had suddenly fallen on their wing, they said, and he and his men were hard upon their heels. Hooker passed in a moment from the certainty of victory to the certainty that his army must fight for its very existence. Yet he and his generals showed presence of mind and great courage in the crisis, bringing forward troops rapidly and, above all, massing the superb artillery.
 
Harry Kenton, his horse shot under him, again............