[Footnote 1: His words.]
A moment afterward he called out again to the men passing him:--
"Go back! go back! I'd rather die than be whipped!"[1]
[Footnote 1: His words.]
The old lightning flashed from his eyes as he spoke. Then a mist passedover them; his head sank upon his breast; and, still supported in thesaddle, he was led through the woods toward the Chickahominy.
Suddenly, Fitzhugh Lee, who had been stubbornly fighting on the right,galloped up, and accosted Stuart. His face was flushed, his eyes moist.
"You are wounded!" he exclaimed.
"Badly," Stuart replied, "but look out, Fitz! Yonder they come!"
A glance showed all. In the midst of a wild uproar of clashing sabres,quick shots, and resounding cries, the Federal cavalry were rushingforward to overwhelm the disordered lines.
Stuart's eye flashed for the last time. Turning to General Fitzhugh Lee,he exclaimed in a full, sonorous voice:--
"Go ahead, Fitz, old fellow! I know you will do what is right!"[1]
[Footnote 1: His words.]
This was the last order he ever gave upon the field. As he spoke, hishead sank, his eyes closed, and he was borne toward the rear.
There was scarcely time to save him from capture. His wound seemed tohave been the signal for his lines to break. They had now given wayeverywhere--the enemy were pressing them with loud shouts. Fighting withstubborn desperation, they fell back toward the Chickahominy, which theycrossed, hotly pressed by the victorious enemy.
Stuart had been placed in an ambulance and borne across the stream,where Dr. Randolph and Dr. Fontaine made a brief examination of hiswound. It was plainly mortal--but he was hastily driven, by way ofMechanicsville, into Richmond.
His hard fighting had saved the city. When Sheridan attacked, he wasrepulsed.
But the capital was dearly purchased. Twenty-four hours afterward Stuartwas dead.
DEATH OF STUART]
The end of the great cavalier had been as serene as his life was stormy.His death was that of the Christian warrior, who bows to the will ofGod, and accepts whatever His loving hand decrees for him.
He asked repeatedly that his favorite hymns should be sung for him; andwhen President Davis visited him, and asked:--
"General, how do you feel?"
"Easy, but willing to die," he said, "if God and my country think I havefulfilled my destiny, and done my duty."[1]
[Footnote 1: His words.]
As night came, he requested his physician to inform him if he thoughthe would live till morning. The physician replied that his death wasrapidly approaching, when he faintly bowed his head, and murmured:--
"I am resigned, if it be God's will. I should like to see my wife, butGod's will be done."[1]
[Footnote 1: His words.]
When the proposed attack upon Sheridan, near Mechanicsville, was spokenof in his presence, he said:--
"God grant that it may be successful. I wish I could be there."*
Turning his face toward the pillow, he added, with tears in his eyes,"but I must prepare for another world."[1]
[Footnote 1: His words.]
Feeling now that his end was near, he made his last dispositions.
"You will find in my hat," he said to a member of his staff, "a littleConfederate flag, which a lady of Columbia, South Carolina, sent me,requesting that I would wear it on my horse in battle, and return it toher. Send it to her."[1]
[Footnote 1: His words.]
He gave then the name of the lady, and added:--
"My spurs--those always worn in battle--I promised to give to Mrs. LilyLee, at Shepherdstown. My sabre I leave to my son."
His horses and equipments were then given to his staff--his papersdirected to be sent to his wife.
A prayer was then offered by the minister at his bedside: his lips movedas he repeated the words. As the prayer ended he murmured:--
"I am going fast now--I am resigned. God's will be done!"[1]
[Footnote 1: His words.]
As the words escaped from his lips, he expired.
BOOK III.
BEHIND THE SCENES.
I.
WHAT I DID NOT SEE.
I was not at Stuart's bedside when he died. While aiding the restto hold him in the saddle, I had been shot through the shoulder; andtwenty-four hours afterward I lay, at the house of a friend in Richmond,turning and tossing with fever.
In my delirium I heard a mournful tolling of bells. It was many days,however, before I knew that they were tolling for Stuart.
When, at last, after more than a month's confinement to my bed, I rose,and began to totter about,--pale, faint, and weak, but convalescent--mygreat loss, for the first time, struck me in all its force.
Where should I turn now--and whither should I go? Jackson dead atChancellorsville--Stuart at Yellow Tavern--thenceforth I seemed to havelost my support, to grope and totter in darkness, without a guide! Thesetwo kings of battle had gone down in the storm, and, like the Knightof Arthur, I looked around me, with vacant and inquiring eyes, askingwhither I was now to direct my steps, and what work I should work in thecoming years. Jackson! Stuart!--who could replace them? They had lovedand trusted me--their head-quarters had been my home. Now, when theydisappeared, I had no friends, no home; and an inexpressible senseof loss descended upon me, as a dark cloud descends and obscures alandscape, smiling and full of sunshine.
Another woe had come to me. My father was dead. The war had snapped thechords of that stout heart as it snapped the chords of thousands, andthe illustrious head of the house had descended into the tomb. From thisdouble blow I scarcely had strength to rise. For weeks I remained in asort of dumb stupor; and was only aroused from it by the necessity oflooking after my family affairs.
As soon as I had strength to mount my horse, I rode to Eagle's Nest. Agood aunt had come and installed herself as the friend and protector ofmy little Annie; and with the arms of my young sister around me, I weptfor my father.
I remained at Eagle's Nest more than two months. The long ride had madethe wound in my shoulder reopen, and I was again stretched upon a bed ofillness, from which, at one time, I thought I should not rise. More thanonce I made a narrow escape from scouting parties of Federal cavalry inthe neighborhood; and on one occasion, an officer entered my chamber,but left me unmolested, under the impression that I was too ill to live.
It was late in the month of August before I rose from my bed again, andset out on my return.
In those three months and a half--counting from the time I leftSpottsylvania with Stuart--great events had happened in Virginia.Grant's hammer and Lee's rapier had been clashing day and night. Hilland valley, mountain and lowland--Virginia and Maryland--had thundered.
General Grant had hastened forward from the Wilderness, only to findLee confronting him behind breastworks at Spottsylvania Court-House. TheConfederate commander had taken up a defensive position on the line ofthe Po; and for more than two weeks Grant threw his masses against theworks of his adversary, in desperate attempts to break through.
On the 12th of May, at daylight, he nearly succeeded. "The HorseShoe" salient was charged in the dusk of morning; the Southernerswere surprised, and bayoneted in the trenches; the works carried; theartillery captured; and a large number of prisoners fell into the handsof the enemy.
The blow was heavy, but General Grant derived little advantage from it.Lee rallied his troops; formed a new line; and repulsed every assaultmade on it, throughout the entire day. When night fell, Grant had notadvanced further; Lee's position was stronger than before, and plainlyimpregnable.
For many days, Grant was occupied in reconnoitring and feeling hisadversary. At the end of a week, the hope of breaking Lee's line wasseen to be desperate.
Then commenced the second great "movement by the left flank" towardRichmond.
Grant disappeared one morning, and hastened toward Hanover Junction.When he arrived, Lee was there in his front, ready to receive him. A
ndthe new position was stronger, if any thing, than that of Spottsylvania.Grant felt it; abandoned the attempt to carry it, at once; and againmoved, on his swift and stealthy way, by the left flank toward Richmond.Crossing the Pamunkey at Hanovertown, he made straight for the capital;but reaching the Tottapotomoi, he found Lee again awaiting him.
Then the days and nights thundered, as they had been thundering sincethe day when Grant crossed the Rapidan. Lee could not be driven, and theFederal movement by the left flank began again.
Grant made for Cold Harbor, and massed his army to burst through theChickahominy, and seize Richmond. The huge engine began to move atdaylight, on the third of June. Half an hour afterward, 13,000 ofGeneral Grant's forces were dead or wounded. He was repulsed and drivenback. His whole loss, from the moment of crossing the Rapidan, had beenabout 60,000 men.
That ended all hopes of forcing the lines of the Chickahominy. TheFederal commander gave up the attempt in despair, and resumed hisWandering-Jew march. Moving still by the left flank, he hastened tocross James River and advance on Petersburg. But Lee was again too rapidfor him. In the works south of the Appomattox the gray infantry, underthe brave General Wise, confronted the enemy. They repulsed everyassault, and Grant sat down to lay siege to Richmond from the distanceof thirty miles.
Such had been the great campaign of the summer of 1864 in Virginia.Lee had everywhere stood at bay, and repulsed every attack: he had alsostruck in return a great aggressive blow, in Maryland.
At Cold Harbor, early in June, news had arrived that a Federal column,under Hunter, was advancing on Lynchburg. A force was sent to interceptHunter, under the command of Early. That hard fighter crossed themountains; attacked his adversary; drove him beyond the Alleghanies; andthen, returning on his steps, hurried down the Shenandoah Valley towardthe Potomac, driving every thing before him. Once at the Potomac, hehastened to cross into Maryland. Once in Maryland, Early advanced,without loss of time, upon Washington. At Monocacy he met and defeatedGeneral Wallace; pressed after him toward Washington; and reachingthe outer works, advanced his lines to the assault. But he had but ahandful, after the long and prostrating march. His numbers were whollyinadequate to storm the defences of the capital. Grant had sent forward,in haste, two army corps to defend the city, and Early was compelledto retreat across the Potomac to the Shenandoah Valley, with the solesatisfaction of reflecting that he had given the enemy a great "scare,"and had flaunted the red-cross flag in front of the ramparts ofWashington.
I have not space to describe the cavalry movements of the summer.Hampton had succeeded Stuart in command of all the cavalry, and thecountry soon heard the ring of his heavy blows.
In June, Sheridan was sent to capture Gordonsville and Charlottesville;but Hampton checked and defeated him in a fierce action nearTrevillian's, and in another at Charlottesville; pursued him to theWhite House; hurried him on to James River; and Sheridan crossed thatstream on pontoons, glad, no doubt, to get back to the blue infantry.Hampton crossed also; penetrated to Dinwiddie; defeated the enemy atSappony church, capturing their men and artillery--everywhere they hadbeen routed, with a total loss of more than 2,000 prisoners.
Such were the events which had taken place during my tedious illness.They came to me only in vague rumors, or by means of chance newspaperssent by my neighbors. At last, however, I rose from my sick couch, andembracing my aunt and sister, who were to remain together at Eagle'sNest, set out on my return.
Stuart's staff were all scattered, and seeking new positions. I was oneof them, and I again asked myself more gloomily than at first, "Whereshall I go?" The gentlemen of the red tape at Richmond would doubtlessinform me, however; and riding on steadily, with a keen look out forscouting parties, I at last reached the city.
On the next day I filed my application in the war office, to be assignedto duty.
A week afterward I had not heard from it.
Messieurs, the red tapists, were evidently not in the least bit of ahurry--and hat in hand I awaited their good pleasure.
II.
THE "DOOMED CITY."
Richmond presented a singular spectacle in that summer of 1864.
It was styled "the doomed city," by our friends over the border, and intruth there was something gloomy and tragic in its appearance--in thevery atmosphere surrounding it.
On every countenance you could read anxiety, poverty, the wasting effectof the terrible suffering and suspense of the epoch. All things combinedto deepen the colors of the sombre picture. Hope long deferred hadsickened the stoutest hearts. Men were nervous, anxious, burnt up by thehot fever of war. Provisions of every description were sold at enormousprices. Fathers of families could scarcely procure the plainest foodfor their wives and children. The streets were dotted with poor widows,bereaved sisters, weeping mothers, and pale daughters, whose blackdresses told the story of their loss to all eyes. Hunger clutched at thestomach; agony tore the heart. Soldiers, pale and tottering from theirwounds, staggered by. Cannon rattled through the streets. Couriersdashed backward and forward from the telegraph office to the war office.The poor starved--the rich scarcely fared any better. Black hair hadbecome white. Stalwart frames were bent and shrunken. Spies and secretemissaries lurked, and looked at you sidewise. Forestallers crowdedthe markets. Bread was doled out by the ounce. Confederate money bythe bushel. Gold was hoarded and buried. Cowards shrunk and began towhisper--"the flesh pots! the flesh pots! they were better!" Society wasuprooted from its foundations. Strange characters were thrown up. Thescum had come to the top, and bore itself bravely in the sunshine. Thewhole social fabric seemed warped and wrenched from its base; and inthe midst of this chaos of starving women, feverish men, spies,extortioners, blockade-runners,--over the "doomed city," day and night,rolled the thunder of the cannon, telling that Grant and Lee were stillholding their high debate at Petersburg.
Such was Richmond at the end of summer in 1864. Society was approachingone of those epochs, when all things appear unreal, monstrous,gliding toward some great catastrophe. All rascaldom was rampant. Thenight-birds had come forth. Vice stalked, and flaunted its feathers inthe light of day. Chaos seemed coming, and with it all the powers ofdarkness.
That spectacle was singular to a soldier, bred in camps, and habituated,now, for some years, to the breezy airs of "the field." I looked onwith astonishment. The whole drama seemed unreal--the characters mereplayers. Who was A, and B, and what did C do for a living? You knew not,but they bowed, and smiled, and were charming. They grasped your hand,offered you cigars, invited you to supper--they wanted nothing. And theyfound no difficulty in procuring guests. I was no better than the rest,reader--there is an honest confession--and, looking back now, I can seethat I knew, and dined or supped with some queer characters in thosedays.
Shall I give you a brief sketch of one of these worthies and hissurroundings? It will afford some idea of the strange contrasts thenpresented in the "doomed" and starving city.
III.
I DINE WITH MR. BLOCQUE.
He was a prominent personage at that time--my friend (in a parliamentarysense at least) Mr. Blocque.
He was a charming little fellow, acquainted with everybody--an "employeeof government," but employed to do heaven knows what; and while otherswere starving, Mr. Blocque was as plump as a partridge. He wore thesnowiest shirt bosoms, glittering with diamond studs; the finestbroadcloth coats; the most brilliant patent leather shoes; and his fatlittle hands sparkled with costly rings. He was constantly smiling ina manner that was delightful to behold; hopped about and chirped like asparrow or tomtit; and was the soul of good humor and enjoyment. Therewas no resisting his charms; he conquered you in five minutes. When helinked his arm in yours, and chirped, "My dear friend, come and dinewith me--at five o'clock precisely--I shall certainly expect you!" itwas impossible to refuse the small gentleman's invitation. Perhaps youasked yourself, "Who is my dear friend, Mr. Blocque--how does he liveso well, and wear broadcloth and fine linen?" But the next moment yousmiled, shrugged your shoulders, el
evated your eye-brows, and--went todine with him.
I was like all the world, and at five o'clock one evening was shown intoMr. Blocque's elegant residence on Shockoe Hill, by a servant in whitegloves, who bowed low, as he ushered me in. Mr. Blocque hastened toreceive me, with his most charming smile; I was introduced to theguests, who had all arrived; and ten minutes afterward the folding doorsopened, revealing a superb banquet--for the word "dinner" would betoo common-place. The table was one mass of silver. Waxlights, incandelabra, were already lit; and a host of servants waited, silent andrespectful, behind every chair.
The guests were nearly a dozen in number, and more than one prominent"government official" honored Mr. Blocque's repast. I had beenintroduced among the rest to Mr. Torpedo, member of Congress, and bitterfoe of President Davis; Mr. Croker, who had made an enormous fortune bybuying up, and hoarding in garrets and cellars, flour, bacon, coffee,sugar, and other necessaries; and Colonel Desperade, a tall and warlikeofficer in a splendid uniform, who had never been in the army, butintended to report for duty, it was supposed, as soon as he was madebrigadier-general.
The dinner was excellent. The table literally groaned with everydelicacy. Everywhere you saw canvass-back ducks, grouse, salmon, patede foie gras, oysters; the champagne, was really superb; the Madeira andsherry beyond praise; and the cigars excellent Havanas, which atthat time were rarely seen, and cost fabulous prices. Think, old armycomrades, starving on a quarter of a pound of rancid bacon duringthat summer of '64--think of that magical bill of fare, that array ofwonders!
Mohun; Or, the Last Days of Lee and His Paladins. Page 22
