28. XXVIII.
THE COUNCIL OF WAR.
On the next day, a council of war assembled at General
Johnston's head-quarters, near Bunker's Hill.
An advance of the enemy was expected at any moment. Every
thing made such a movement probable. The enemy already had
armies in the field when the Confederacy had only detachments;
and news had just arrived of two affairs in which they had struck
a heavy blow at the dawning hopes of the South. General Pegram
had been compelled to surrender at Rich Mountain, and
General Garnett was defeated and killed at Carrick's Ford, in
Western Virginia—the enemy rode upon the summit of the
wave of success.
They would undoubtedly, now, push forward with their two
armies at Washington and in the Valley. Stuart had harassed
their foraging parties and pickets incessantly with his three
hundred cavalry, and Johnston had faced them in line of battle
every day; but it was very plain that, when once their great
forces were in motion, every resource of generalship would be
needed to oppose their predominance in numbers. Above all, a
thorough co-operation must be secured between the column
under Johnston and that under Beauregard at Manassas.
I rode with Colonel Jackson to head-quarters, and waited,
conversing with the staff as usual, while the council of war took
place. While thus engaged, I was summoned to attend General
Johnston.
I found him seated at a table, surrounded by his chief officers
in full uniform, and wearing their sabres. Jackson was quietly
examining a map; Stuart was drumming upon the table, and
reflecting.
I saluted, and waited to be addressed.
“Captain,” said General Johnston, in his measured voice, “you
are suggested as a competent person to carry an important communication
to General Beauregard at Manassas, and explain to
him the situation of affairs here. Have you a good horse?”
“Yes, sir.”
“When can you set out?”
“In half an hour.”
“At daylight will do, but lose no time on the road. Here is
the dispatch—it embraces the main points. I depend upon your
good sense and judgment to reply accurately to General Beauregard's
questions.”
I bowed and took the dispatch.
“Any further instructions, General?”
“That is all.”
I saluted and withdrew.
Half an hour afterward Jackson came out and mounted his
horse, holding in his hand a large envelope, which evidently
covered an “official document.” It seemed to embarrass him,
and he said:
“Captain, will you carry this?”
I took it, but said: “I may forget and take it to Manassas with
me, Colonel, when, in case it is important”—
“It is not important. You may read it.”
I opened the paper, and glanced at it. It was Jackson's appointment
as Brigadier-General.
He was riding on absently, in deep thought.
