52. LII.
A NIGHT ADVENTURE.
Stretching myself on the ground, under a tree, I fell soundly
asleep, like the rest; but a little after midnight I felt a hand on
my shoulder, and, opening my eyes, saw General Jackson.
“I wish you to ride with me, Major.”
I buckled on my belt, threw my cape over my shoulders, and
mounted my horse, which stood ready saddled near.
“I can get no intelligence from the front,” said the General,
as we rode on through the darkness, “but something tells me
that General Banks has discovered our presence here, and is
retreating.”
“It is more than probable, General.”
“I am going to see.”
And pushing on rapidly over the deserted roads, we came to
Ashby's cavalry picket, in command of a lieutenant.
“Where is General Ashby?”
“To the left, on the road to Strasburg, General.”
“True. Is there any thing in front of you?”
“Nothing, General—this is the outside picket.”
“Good.”
And the General rode by the vedette, with the words:
“Don't fire on me as I come back.”
I followed, and we rode on some distance in silence.
“Ashby is obeying his orders to keep a good lookout on the
road from Strasburg to Front Royal, to prevent the retreat of
the enemy in that direction,” the General now said, half to himself;
“but I think the danger is here.”
We rode on in silence, following the country road, now passing
through wide fields, now under the shade of forests.
From time to time Jackson checked his horse and listened.
At the third pause of this description, we distinctly heard a
distant rumbling, resembling that caused by artillery or wagons
moving over the hard surface of a turnpike.
“I knew it!” were the quick words of the General; “but let
us be certain.”
And, galloping rapidly toward the sound, we reached a hill
separated by a narrow valley from the elevated ground over
which ran the Valley turnpike.
The sound had become a continuous jarring rumble of wheels,
jingling of artillery chains, clash of hoofs, and that low shuffling
sound which comes from large bodies of infantry in motion.
Against the sky, beyond the hill, we clearly made out the long,
dark lines of infantry, cavalry, artillery, and wagons. General
Banks was retreating upon Winchester.
Jackson wheeled his horse, and dug the spur into his side.
“Come, Major!” he exclaimed, with unwonted excitement,
“no time is to be lost!”
As he spoke, the shrill neigh of a horse was heard from a clump
of woods on the left, and at the next moment a scouting party
of Federal cavalry, moving on the flank of their column, appeared
in the road.
“Halt!” was the quick order of the officer at their head, as
we darted off.
A sudden volley succeeded; and the carbine balls whistled
around.
No response followed the order to halt—then was heard the
furious clash of hoofs behind us. The cavalry was in hot pursuit.
In five minutes they were so close that I heard the heavy
breathing of their horses.
“Halt! halt!” came again, accompanied by a volley of imprecations
from the officer behind.
I replied by firing at him, but without striking him.
It was now obvious that, unless we left the road, we would
inevitably be captured, and I said as much to the General.
“Well,” was his brief response, in the quick, curt tone which
characterized him, “let us leave it.”
“Shall we try that stone wall, General?”
“Yes.”
I cleared the wall, and the General followed, receiving a volley
as he rose to the leap. We had got over, and were in a field;
[ILLUSTRATION]
GEN. JACKSON'S ESCAPE.—p. 188.
[Description: 519EAF. Illustration page, which depicts Major Sully and General Jackson escaping on horses. The horses are in the process of jumping over a small stone wall.]
but the wall was instantly torn down, and the whole detachment
scrambled over, and pressed forward as hotly as before.
All at once a by-road, leading into the woods, appeared in
front, and we struck into this at a headlong gallop.
“Halt! who goes there!” suddenly cried a voice in front,
which I recognized as Ashby's.
“Friends!”
And, reaching his side, I pointed to the Federal cavalry about
two hundred yards behind.
Ashby recognized the General, understood all at a glance, and,
by a movement as quick as thought, drew up his small escort on
the side of the road, beneath the shadow of the trees.
The next moment the Federal cavalry thundered by, and, as
their rear passed him, Ashby gave the ringing order:
“Charge!”
A volley was poured into the Federal detachment, throwing
them into the wildest disorder—Ashby charged them sabre in
hand—and in three minutes the whole party were captured.
Jackson seemed to have forgotten the whole affair in a moment
after the cessation of the firing.
“General,” he said, with great animation, “the enemy are retreating
rapidly toward Winchester. Get your entire command
together, and move toward Middletown, on the left of the main
body. Major, is your horse fresh?”
“Perfectly, General.”
“Go back and tell my column to move forward at once! I
wish General Ewell to advance by the Newtown road—the rest
by the way we came to-night. Lose no time! General, get
your cavalry here quickly!”
I have rarely seen Jackson more animated. I went at full
speed to carry the order, and, at the same moment, Ashby's
couriers were seen scattering in every direction to concentrate
the cavalry at the point ordered.
The General's directions were promptly sent to the different
commanders, and in an hour the whole army was in motion—
one column, under Ewell, advancing as ordered, by the road to
Nowtown—the other directly toward Middletown.
Jackson took personal command of the latter, and at daylight
reached the hill which we had reconnoitred from during the
night. The road in front was black with General Banks's army
in full retreat. Jackson had struck the columns in transitu.
