Young women, with strong Southern
proclivities, looked with frowning eyes upon their blue uniforms, but the
frank and pleasant smiles of the two lads disarmed them. Older women of
the same proclivities did not melt so easily, but continued to regard
them with a hard and burning gaze.
But there were men strongly for the Union, and the two friendly lads
picked up many details from them. They showed them a grove in which Lee,
Jackson, Longstreet and D. H. Hill had all been camped at once. People
had gone there daily for a glimpse of these famous men.
They also showed the boys the very spot where Stonewall Jackson had come
near to making an ignominious end of his great career. His faithful
horse, Little Sorrel, had been worn out by incessant marchings and must
rest for a while. The people gave him a splendid horse, but one that had
not been broken well. The first time he mounted it a band happened to
begin playing, the horse sprang wildly, the saddle girth broke and
Jackson was thrown heavily to the ground.
"You'd better believe there was excitement then," said the narrator,
a clerk in one of the stores.
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