The Scouts of Stonewall | Page 2

WILLIAM L. YANCEY, Alabama Orator.
JAMES A. GARFIELD, Northern General, afterwards President of the
United States.
And many others
IMPORTANT BATTLES DESCRIBED IN THE CIVIL WAR
SERIES
BULL RUN
KERNSTOWN
CROSS KEYS
WINCHESTER
PORT REPUBLIC
THE SEVEN DAYS
MILL SPRING
FORT DONELSON
SHILOH
PERRYVILLE
STONE RIVER

THE SECOND MANASSAS
ANTIETAM
FREDERICKSBURG
CHANCELLORSVILLE
GETTYSBURG
CHAMPION HILL
VICKSBURG
CHICKAMAUGA
MISSIONARY RIDGE
THE WILDERNESS
SPOTTSYLVANIA
COLD HARBOR
FISHER'S HILL
CEDAR CREEK
APPOMATTOX

CONTENTS
I. IN THE VALLEY
II. THE FOOT CAVALRY
III. STONEWALL JACKSON'S MARCH

IV. WAR AND WAITING
V. THE NORTHERN ADVANCE
VI. KERNSTOWN
VII. ON THE RIDGES
VIII. THE MOUNTAIN BATTLE
IX. TURNING ON THE FOE
X. WINCHESTER
XI. THE NIGHT RIDE
XII. THE CLOSING CIRCLE
XIII. THE SULLEN RETREAT
XIV. THE DOUBLE BATTLE
XV. THE SEVEN DAYS

THE SCOUTS OF STONEWALL
CHAPTER I
IN THE VALLEY
A young officer in dingy Confederate gray rode slowly on a powerful
bay horse through a forest of oak. It was a noble woodland, clear of
undergrowth, the fine trees standing in rows, like those of a park. They
were bare of leaves but the winter had been mild so far, and a carpet of
short grass, yet green, covered the ground. To the rider's right flowed a
small river of clear water, one of the beautiful streams of the great
Virginia valleys.

Harry Kenton threw his head back a little and drew deep breaths of the
cool, crisp air. The light wind had the touch of life in it. As the cool
puffs blew upon him and filled his lungs his chest expanded and his
strong pulses beat more strongly. But a boy in years, he had already
done a man's work, and he had been through those deeps of passion and
despair which war alone brings.
A year spent in the open and with few nights under roof had enlarged
Harry Kenton's frame and had colored his face a deep red. His great
ancestor, Henry Ware, had been very fair, and Harry, like him, became
scarlet of cheek under the beat of wind and rain.
Had anyone with a discerning eye been there, to see, he would have
called this youth one of the finest types of the South that rode forth so
boldly to war. He sat his saddle with the ease and grace that come only
of long practice, and he controlled his horse with the slightest touch of
the rein. The open, frank face showed hate of nobody, although the soul
behind it was devoted without any reserve to the cause for which he
fought.
Harry was on scout duty. Although an officer on the staff of Colonel
Talbot, commander of the Invincibles, originally a South Carolina
regiment, he had developed so much skill in forest and field, he had
such acuteness of eye and ear, that he was sent often to seek the camps
of the enemy or to discover his plans. His friends said that these forest
powers were inherited, that they came from some far-away ancestor
who had spent his life in the wilderness, and Harry knew that what they
said was true.
Despite the peaceful aspect of the forest and the lack of human
presence save his own, he rode now on an errand that was full of
danger. The Union camp must lie on the other side of that little river,
not many miles farther on, and he might meet, at any moment, the
pickets of the foe. He meant to take the uttermost risk, but he had no
notion of being captured. He would suffer anything, any chance, rather
than that. He had lately come into contact with a man who had breathed
into him the fire and spirit belonging to legendary heroes. To this man,
short of words and plain of dress, nothing was impossible, and Harry

caught from him not merely the belief, but the conviction also.
Late in the autumn the Invincibles, who had suffered severely at Bull
Run and afterward had been cut down greatly in several small actions
in the mountains, had been transferred to the command of Stonewall
Jackson in the Shenandoah Valley. Disease and the hospital had
reduced the regiment to less than three hundred, but their spirits were as
high as ever. Their ranks were renewed partly with Virginians. Colonel
Talbot and Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire had recovered from small
wounds, and St. Clair and Langdon were whole and as hard as iron.
After a period of waiting they were now longing for action.
There was some complaint among the Invincibles when they were
detached from the main army to the service of Jackson, but Harry did
not share in it. When he heard of the order he remembered that dread
afternoon at Bull Run, when all seemed lost, and the most vivid of his
memories was the