Yorktown. The cool courage, either of heroism or
despair, had seized upon Fitz John Porter. He turned his black glass
upon the ramparts and masked cannon below, upon the remote camps, upon
the beleaguered town, upon the guns of Gloucester Point, and upon
distant Norfolk. Had he been reconnoitring from a secure perch at the
tip of the moon, he could not have been more vigilant, and the
Confederates probably thought this some Yankee device to peer into their
sanctuary in despite of ball or shell. None of their great guns could be
brought to bear upon the balloon; but there were some discharges of
musketry that appeared to have no effect, and finally even these
demonstrations ceased. Both armies in solemn silence were gazing aloft,
while the imperturbable mariner continued to spy out the land.
The sun was now rising behind us, and roseate rays struggled up to the
zenith, like the arcs made by showery bombs. They threw a hazy
atmosphere upon the balloon, and the light shone through the network
like the sun through the ribs of the skeleton ship in the _Ancient
Mariner_. Then, as all looked agape, the air-craft "plunged, and tacked,
and veered," and drifted rapidly toward the Federal lines again.
The allelujah that now went up shook the spheres, and when he had
regained our camp limits, the General was seen clambering up again to
clutch the valve-rope. This time he was successful, and the balloon fell
like a stone, so that all hearts once more leaped up, and the cheers
were hushed. Cavalry rode pell-mell from several directions, to reach
the place of descent, and the General's personal staff galloped past me
like the wind, to be the first at his debarkation. I followed the throng
of soldiery with due haste, and came up to the horsemen in a few
minutes. The balloon had struck a canvas tent with great violence,
felling it as by a bolt, and the General, unharmed, had disentangled
himself from innumerable folds of oiled canvas, and was now the cynosure
of an immense group of people. While the officers shook his hands, the
rabble bawled their satisfaction in hurrahs, and a band of music
marching up directly, the throng on foot and horse gave him a vociferous
escort to his quarters.
Five miles east of Richmond, in the middle of May, we found the balloon
already partially inflated, resting behind a ploughed hill that formed
one of a ridge or chain of hills, bordering the Chickahominy. The stream
was only a half-mile distant, b
|