his own fences. The brigades of Loring undoubtedly suffered
the most. They had seen, upon the Monterey line, on the Kanawha, the
Gauley, and the Greenbriar, rough and exhausting service. And then, just
when they were happy at last in winter quarters, they must pull up
stakes and hurry down the Valley to join "Fool Tom Jackson" of the
Virginia Military Institute and one brief day of glory at Manassas!
Loring, a gallant and dashing officer, was popular with them. "Fool Tom
Jackson" was not. They complained, and they very honestly thought that
they had upon their side justice, common sense, and common humanity--to
say nothing of military insight! The bitter night was bitterer to them
for their discontent. Many were from eastern Virginia or from the states
to the south, not yet inured to the winter heights and Stonewall
Jackson's way. They slept on frozen ground, surrounded by grim
mountains, and they dreamed uneasily of the milder lowlands, of the yet
green tangles of bay and myrtle, of quiet marshes and wide, unfreezing
waters. In the night-time the clouds thickened, and there came down a
fine rain, mixed with snow. In the morning, fields, hillsides, and road
appeared glazed with ice--and the wagons were not up!

The country grew rougher, lonelier, a series of low mountains and partly
cleared levels. To a few in the creeping column it may have occurred
that Jackson chose unfrequented roads, therefore narrow, therefore worse
than other roads, to the end that his policy of utter secrecy might be
the better served; but to the majority his course seemed sprung from a
certain cold wilfulness, a harshness without object, unless his object
were to wear out flesh and bone. The road, such as it was, was sheeted
with ice. The wind blew steadily from the northwest, striking the face
like a whip, and the fine rain and snow continued to fall and to freeze
as it fell. What, the evening before, had been hardship, now grew to
actual misery. The column faltered, delayed, halted, and still the order
came back, "The general commanding wishes the army to press on." The
army stumbled to its now bleeding feet, and did its best with a hill
like Calvary. Up and down the column was heard the report of muskets,
men falling and accidentally discharging their pieces. The company
officers lifted monotonous voices, weary and harsh as reeds by a winter
pond. _Close up, men--close up--close up!_

In the afternoon Loring, riding at the head of his briga