The Star of Gettysburg | Page 8

free to cheer
their usually dingy hero as he rode abroad in his magnificent new
uniform.
"I think we'd better cut across the woods to headquarters," said Harry.
"I want to see the arrival of Old Jack, and I'd wager any of you five

cents to a cent that he'll never wear that uniform again. Why, he doesn't
look natural in it at all."
"I won't take your bet," said Happy Tom, "because I'm thinking just as
you do. Arthur, here, would look all right in it--he needs clothes to hold
him up, anyway, but it doesn't suit Old Jack."
Their short cut took them through the woods to the general's quarters in
time to see him arrive and spring hurriedly from Little Sorrel. The man
whose name was a very synonym of victorious war was still
embarrassed and blushing, and as Harry followed him into the tent he
took off the gorgeous uniform and hat and handed them to his young
aide. Then as he put on his usual dingy gray, he said to an officer who
had brought him the new clothes:
"Give my thanks to General Stuart, Major, but tell him that the uniform
is far too magnificent for me. I value the gift, however, and shall keep it
in recollection of him."
The major and Harry took the uniform and, smoothing it carefully, laid
it away. But Harry, having further leave of absence went forth and
answered many questions. Was the general going to wear that uniform
all the time? Would he ride into battle clothed in it? When Harry
replied that, in his belief, he would never put it on again, the young
soldiers seemed to feel a kind of relief. The head of the family was not
going to be too splendid for them. Yet the event had heightened their
spirits, already high, and they began to sing a favorite song:
"Come, stack arms, men, pile on the rails; Stir up the camp fires bright.
No matter if the canteen fails, We'll make a roaring night. Here
Shenandoah brawls along, There lofty Blue Ridge echoes strong To
swell the brigade's rousing song Of Stonewall Jackson's way."
"It's a bully song!" exclaimed Happy Tom, who had a deep and
thunderous voice. Then snatching up a long stick he began to wave it as
a baton, and the others, instinctively following their leader, roared it
forth, more than ten thousand strong.

Langdon in his glory led his cohorts in a vast circle around Jackson's
quarters, and the mighty chorus thundered through verse after verse,
until they closed in a lower tone with the lines:
"Silence! ground arms! kneel all! caps off! Old Blue Light's going to
pray; Strangle the fool that dares to scoff! Attention! it's his way!
Appealing from his native sod In forma pauperis to God Lay bare thine
arm--stretch forth thy rod, Amen! That's Stonewall Jackson's way."
Then Happy Tom threw down his stick and the men dispersed to their
quarters. But they had paid Stonewall Jackson a tribute that few
generals ever received.
"You're a wild and foolish fellow, Tom Langdon," said Dalton, "but I
like you for this thing you've done."
"You'll notice that Old Jack never appeared while we were singing,"
said Langdon. "I don't see why a man should be so modest and bashful.
Why, if I'd done half what he's done I'd ride the tallest horse in the
country; I'd have one of those Mexican saddles of yellow leather
studded with large golden-headed nails; the stirrups would be of gold
and the bridle bit would be gold, too. I'd have twelve uniforms all
covered with gold lace, and I'd have hats with gold-colored ostrich
plumes waving in them after the fashion of Jeb Stuart."
"Don't you worry, Tom," said Dalton. "You'll never have any excuse
for wearing so much gold. Have you heard what one of the boys said
after the chaplain preached the sermon to us last Sunday about leading
the children of Israel forty years through the wilderness?"
"No, George; what was it?"
"Forty years going through the wilderness," he growled. "Why,
Stonewall Jackson would have double-quicked 'em through in three
days, and on half rations, too."
"And so he would," exclaimed Harry with emphasis. The great
affection and admiration in which his troops held Jackson began to be

tinged with something that bordered upon superstition. They regarded
his mental powers, his intuition, judgment and quickness as something
almost supernatural. His great flanking movement at the Second
Manassas, and his arrival in time to save the army at Antietam, inspired
them with awe for a man who could do such things. They had long
since ceased to grumble when he undertook one of his tremendous
marches, and they never asked why they were sent to do a thing--they
had