The new General on the day he began his advance against Lee and Jackson issued an address to his army which sent a chill to the heart of the President.
"I have come to you from the West," he proclaimed, "where we have always seen the backs of our enemies--from an army whose business has been to seek the adversary and beat him when found. I desire you to dismiss from your minds certain phrases which I am sorry to find much in vogue among you. I hear constantly of 'lines of retreat' and 'bases of supplies.' Let us discard such ideas. Let us look before us, not behind. From to-day my headquarters will be in the saddle."
Every man in the Army of the Potomac which McClellan had created and fought with such fierce and terrible, if unsuccessful power, resented this address as an insult. McClellan himself was furious. For some reason only part of the forces from his army which were detached ever reached Pope, and those who did were not enthusiastic. It was expecting too much of human nature to believe that they could be.
The outlook for the coming battle was ominous.
Betty Winter received a telegram from John Vaughan announcing his arrival at Alexandria with McClellan on the last day of August. Her heart gave a bound of joy. She could see him to-morrow. It had been five years instead of five months since she had stood on that little pier and watched him float away into the mists of the river! All life before the revelation which love had brought was now a shadowy memory. Only love was real. His letters had been her life. They hadn't come as often as she had wished. She demanded his whole heart. There could be no compromise. It must be all, _all_ or nothing.
She tried to sleep and couldn't. Her brain was on fire.
"I must sleep and look my best!" she laughed softly, buried her face in the pillow and laughed again for joy. How could she sleep with her lover standing there alive and strong with his arms clasping her to his heart!
She rose at daylight and threw open her window. The air was crisp with the breath of fall. She watched the sun rise in solemn glory. A division of cavalry dashed by, the horses' hoofs ringing sharply on the cobble stones, sabres clashing. Behind them came another and another, and in a distant street she heard the rumble of big guns, the crack of their drivers' whips and the sharp cries of the men urging the horses to a run.