| "Old Grimes is dead, that good old man, Whom we shall see no more! He wore a grey Confederate coat All buttoned down before—" |
"Don't like it that way? All right—"
| "He wore a blue damn-Yankee coat All buttoned down before—" |
The Stonewall Brigade passed a new-made grave in a small graveyard, from which the fence had been burned. A little further on they came to a burned smithy; the blacksmith's house beside it also a ruin, black and charred. On a stone, between two lilac-bushes, sat a very old man. Beside him stood a girl, a handsome creature, dark and bright-cheeked. "Send them to hell, boys, send them to hell!" quavered the old man. The girl raised a sweet and vibrant voice: "Send them to hell, men, send them to hell!"
"We'll do our best, ma'am, we'll do our best!" answered the Stonewall.
The sun mounted high. They were moving now through thick woods, broken by deep creeks and bits of swamp. All about were evidences enough that an army had travelled before them, and that that army was exceedingly careless of its belongings. All manner of impediments lay squandered; waste and ruin were everywhere. Sometimes the men caught an odour of burning meat, of rice and breadstuffs. In a marshy meadow a number of wrecked, canvas-topped wagons showed like a patch of mushrooms, giant and dingy. In a forest glade rested like a Siegfried smithy an abandoned travelling forge. Camp-kettles hacked in two were met with, and boxes of sutlers' wares smashed to fragments. The dead horses were many, and there was disgust with the buzzards, they rose or settled in such clouds. The troops, stooping to drink from the creeks, complained that the water was foul.
Very deep woods appeared on the horizon. "Guide says that's White Oak Swamp!—Guide says that's White Oak Swamp!" Firing broke out ahead. "Cavalry rumpus!—Hello! Artillery butting in, too!—everybody but us! Well, boys, I always did think infantry a mighty no-'count, undependable arm—infantry of the Army of the Valley, anyway! God knows the moss has been growing on us for a week!"
Munford sent back a courier to Jackson, riding well before the head of the column. "Bridge is burned, sir. They're in strong force on the other side—"
"Good!" said Jackson. "Tell Colonel Crutchfield to bring up the guns."