Even the North itself openly
expressed admiration for his brilliant achievements.

Reports came to Winchester that an attack by Jackson on Washington was
feared. Maryland expected another invasion. Pennsylvania, remembering
the daring raid which Stuart had made through Chambersburg, one of her
cities, picking up prisoners on the way, dreaded the coming of a far
mightier force than the one Stuart had led. At the capital itself it
was said that many people were packing, preparatory to fleeing into the
farther North.

But Harry and his comrades thought little of these things for a few
days. It was certainly pleasant there in the little Virginia town.
The people of Winchester and those of the country far and wide
delighted to help and honor them. Food was abundant and the crisp cold
strengthened and freshened the blood in their veins. The fire and
courage of Jackson's men had never risen higher.

Jackson himself seemed to be thinking but little of war for a day or
two. His inseparable companion was the Presbyterian minister,
Dr. Graham, to whom he often said that he thought it was the noblest and
grandest thing in the world to be a great minister. Harry, as his aide,
being invariably near him, was impressed more and more by his
extraordinary mixture of martial and religious fervor. The man who
prayed before going into battle, and who was never willing to fight on
Sunday, would nevertheless hurl his men directly into the cannon's mouth
for the sake of victory, and would never excuse the least flinching on
the part of either officer or private.

It seemed to Harry that the two kinds of fervor in Jackson, the martial
and the religious, were in about equal proportions, and they always
inspired him with a sort of awe. Deep as were his affection and
admiration for Jackson, he would never have presumed upon the slightest
familiarity. Nor would any other officer of his command.

Yet the tender side of Jackson was often shown during his last days in
his beloved Winchester. The hero-worshipping women of the South often
brought their children to see him, to receive his blessing, and to say
when they were grown that the great Jackson had put his hands upon their
heads.

Harry and his three comrades of his own age, who had been down near the
creek, were returning late one afternoon to headquarters near the manse,
when they heard the shout of many childish voices.

They saw that he was walking again with the minister,