The Red Mist. Randall Parrish

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Название The Red Mist
Автор произведения Randall Parrish
Жанр Документальная литература
Серия
Издательство Документальная литература
Год выпуска 0
isbn 4064066064044



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       Randall Parrish

      The Red Mist

      Published by Good Press, 2020

       [email protected]

      EAN 4064066064044

       On Special Service

       An Unwelcome Companion

       The Body on the Floor

       Into the Enemies' Hands

       I Join the Federal Cavalry

       The Night Attack

       Shelter from the Storm

       The Mistress of the House

       Arrival of Parson Nichols

       The Jaws of the Trap

       What We Overheard

       The Recognition

       Waiting the Next Move

       A Marriage by Duress

       Before Lieutenant Raymond

       A Prisoner

       I Choose Death

       Under Death Sentence

       The One Path of Escape

       I Make Two Prisoners

       The Lady Chooses

       A Step Nearer

       The Raiders Pass

       The Fight in the Cabin

       We Understand Each Other

       The Cane Ridge Meeting House

       With Backs to the Wall

       The Trap Closes

       We Drive Them

       A Way of Escape

       The End of Defense

       With Nature's Weapon

       The Trail to Covington

      On Special Service

      CHAPTER I

       Table of Contents

      ON SPECIAL SERVICE

      IT WAS already growing dusk when the Staunton Battery of Horse Artillery returned wearily to camp after hours of hard field drill, the men ever conscious that no evolution, however trivial, was being overlooked by "Stonewall" Jackson, sitting astride his sorrel on a little eminence to the left, his stern face unrelieved by even the semblance of a smile. He would criticise without mercy, but never praise, and the artillerymen insensibly stiffened to the work, as eager to do well as though they were in action.

      The time was early spring, some remnants of snow still clinging to the hollows out of reach of the warming sun, and a chill wind blowing through the passes of the western mountains. The comparative idleness of the past winter months, given ​over to foraging and drill, together with the comforts of a permanent camp, had engendered forgetfulness of the hardships of the last campaign, and left the men eager to confront the dangers of the future. In no heart was there doubt of the final result—the Army of the Valley pinned its faith on "Old Jack." They were soldiers—veterans already—anxious for active service; their depleted ranks filled up once more with recruits, well drilled and efficient through constant training; and while many remembered with regret the old faces—the dead, the wounded, the missing—they nevertheless realized that never before were they in sterner mood or better prepared for grim fighting.

      The winter quarters of the Staunton Artillery were slightly off the main road, back within the shelter of a grove of oak trees, and I remained for some time overseeing the care of the horses before approaching the hut where the non-commissioned officers had mess. We were all of us still at the table, discussing the incidents of the drill, when a lieutenant appeared suddenly in the doorway, and glanced inquiringly about the room, scarcely able to distinguish our faces in the dull light of the lantern which alone illumined the interior.

      "Sergeant Wyatt?" he inquired briefly.

      I arose to my feet.

      ​"Here, sir," I answered in some surprise.

      "You are requested to report to General Jackson at once."

      "At Winchester, sir?"

      "No; his headquarters for tonight are at Coulter's farm, on the dirt pike. You will ride your own horse."

      I endeavored to circle the others, and thus reach the door in time to ask further questions, but was too late; the lieutenant, his message delivered, had already disappeared in the darkness. I stared after him in perplexity. What could Jackson possibly want of me? On whose recommendation had I been thus singled out for special service? How, indeed, had the commanding general even learned my name? I stood hesitating in the open door, listening to the hoof beats of the officer's horse, my mind filled with wonderment. But I was a soldier, thoroughly disciplined, and orders