On the evening of the 24th Jackson began his preparations for the most famous of his marches.  His troops were quietly withdrawn from before the Sulphur Springs, and Longstreet’s division, unobserved by the Federals, took their place.  Captain Boswell was ordered to report on the most direct and hidden route to Manassas Junction, and the three divisions—­Ewell’s, Hill’s, and the Stonewall, now commanded by Taliaferro—­assembled near Jefferson.  Three days’ cooked rations were to be carried in the haversacks, and a herd of cattle, together with the green corn standing in the fields, was relied upon for subsistence until requisition could be made on the Federal magazines.  The troops marched light.  Knapsacks were left behind.  Tin cans and a few frying-pans formed the only camp equipment, and many an officer’s outfit consisted of a few badly baked biscuits and a handful of salt.

August 26.

Long before dawn the divisions were afoot.  The men were hungry, and their rest had been short; but they were old acquaintances of the morning star, and to march while the east was still grey had become a matter of routine.  But as their guides led northward, and the sound of the guns, opening along the Rappahannock, grew fainter and fainter, a certain excitement began to pervade the column.  Something mysterious was in the air.  What their movement portended not the shrewdest of the soldiers could divine; but they recalled their marches in the Valley and their inevitable results, and they knew instinctively that a surprise on a still larger scale was in contemplation.  The thought was enough.  Asking no questions, and full of enthusiasm, they followed with quick step the leader in whom their confidence had become so absolute.  The flood had subsided on the Upper Rappahannock, and the divisions forded it at Hinson’s Mill, unmolested and apparently unobserved.  Without halting it pressed on, Boswell with a small escort of cavalry leading the way.  The march led first by Amissville, thence north to Orleans, beyond Hedgeman’s River, and thence to Salem, a village on the Manassas Gap Railroad.  Where the roads diverged from the shortest line the troops took to the fields.  Guides were stationed by the advanced guard at each gap and gate which marked the route.  Every precaution was taken to conceal the movement.  The roads in the direction of the enemy were watched by cavalry, and so far as possible the column was directed through woods and valleys.  The men, although they knew nothing of their destination, whether Winchester, or Harper’s Ferry, or even Washington itself, strode on mile after mile, through field and ford, in the fierce heat of the August noon, without question or complaint.  “Old Jack” had asked them to do their best, and that was enough to command their most strenuous efforts.