The birds were twittering and singing, the foliage waving gently--Iraised my head--when suddenly I became aware that a solitary mourner wasbending over the grave.
He was an officer in gray uniform. He held a flower in his hand, whichhe dropped upon the grave, uttering a low sob as he did so.
At the same moment he turned round, and I recognized the great partisan,Colonel Mosby.[1]
[Footnote 1: Real.]
XIII.
THE CEDARS.
Twenty-four hours after, I had passed over the same number of miles,and found myself at the staff head-quarters, on the left bank of theAppomattox, above Petersburg.
I had soon pitched my tent, with the assistance of a servant; haderected a hedge of cedar boughs to protect it from the cutting blasts ofthe coming winter; and, a few days afterwards, was surrounded withmany objects of comfort. My tent had been floored; at one end rose anexcellent chimney; strips of planks, skillfully balanced on two logs,supplied a spring bed; I had secured a split bottom chair, and mysaddle and bridle were disposed upon a rough rack, near a black valisecontaining my small stock of apparel, and the pine table and deskholding official papers.
Having christened this castle "The Cedars," I settled down for a longwinter,--and it was not a great while before I congratulated myself onthe good fortune which had provided me with that warm nest. More thanonce, however, I experienced something like a sentiment of shame, when,in the dark and freezing nights, with the hail rattling on my tent, Isat by my warm fire, and heard the crack of the sharp-shooters, alongthe lines beyond Petersburg. What right had I to be there, by thatblazing fire, in my warm tent, when my brethren--many of them mybetters--were yonder, fighting along the frozen hills? What had I doneto deserve that comfort, and exemption from all pain? I was idling, orreading by my blazing fire,--_they_ were keeping back the enemy, and,perhaps, falling and dying in the darkness. I was musing in my chair,gazing into the blaze, and going back in memory to the fond scenes ofhome, so clearly, that I laughed the heart's laugh, and was happy. Andthey? They, too, were thinking of home, perhaps,--of their wives andchildren, to sink down the next moment shivering with cold, or staggerand fall, with spouting blood, as the bullet pierced them. Why should_I_ be thus favored by a good Providence? I often asked myself thatquestion, and I could not answer it. I could only murmur, "I did notsneak here to get out of the way of the bullets,--those, yonder, are mybetters,--God guard and keep the brave soldiers of this army!"
And now, worthy reader, having given you some idea of the manner inwhich the more fortunate ones wintered near Petersburg, in 1864, I amgoing to drop the subject of army head-quarters, and my surroundingsthere. Jackson and Stuart are dead, and have become figures of history.I have drawn them as well as I could,--I dare not attempt to do the samewith the great commander-in-chief. He is alive. May he live long!--and,saluting him, I pass on.
So if I speak of General Lee, it will be of the individual in hisofficial character. What he utters, he will have uttered in the hearingof many.
With these words of preface, I resume the thread of my history.
XIV.
THE SITUATION.
October, 1864, had come.
The "situation" may be described in a few words.
Grant had drawn his lines from a point in Charles City, on the left bankof James River, across that stream and across the Appomattox, aroundPetersburg to the Squirrel Level road, where he threatened the Southsiderailroad, Lee's line of communication with the south and west. FortHarrison had just been taken. Grant was gradually hemming in hisopponent along the immense line extending across the two rivers, pastthe scene of the famous "Crater" explosion, to the vicinity of theRowanty, a distance of nearly forty miles. One incessant crash andthunder went up, day and night. Grant was "hammering continuously,"carrying out his programme; and, the military view apart, never wasspectacle more picturesque than that presented in these combats.
The long lines of works were wreathed with the smoke of battle. Theglare of cannon lit the smoke-cloud; mortar shells rose, described theirfiery curves, and descended in the trenches, and these were saluted asthey rose and fell by the crack of musketry, the roar of artillery, theechoing cheers of the blue and gray people, who never seemed weary offighting, yelling, and paying their compliments to each other. At nightthe spectacle was superb; the mortars were like flocks of fire-birds,swooping down upon their prey. The horizon glared at each cannon-shot;shell burst in vivid lightnings, shining for a moment, thenextinguished. And yonder object, like a bloodshot eye, shining grimlythrough the darkness,--what is that? It is a lamp, my dear reader, witha transparent shade; and on this shade is written, for the informationof the graybacks:--
"While yet the lamp holds out to burn, The vilest rebel may return."
Lee's lines faced Grant's, following the blue cordon across the rivers,around Petersburg, toward the Southside railroad.
Beyond the right of the Confederate infantry stretched the cavalry,which consisted of the divisions of Wade Hampton and W.H.F. Lee,--theformer commanding. Fitz Lee, with his division, was in the Valley.
Such, reader was the situation, when I joined the army. The great fifthact of the tragic drama was approaching.
XV.
MOHUN AGAIN.
Three days after my arrival, I mounted my horse, crossed the Appomattox,followed the Boydton road, struck southward at the Quaker road, and soonfound myself in the heart of the shadowy pine woods of that singularcountry, Dinwiddie.
My official duty was to inspect and report the condition of the cavalryand horse artillery of the army at the beginning and middle of eachmonth. And now, first assuring the reader that I performed my duty inall weather, and amid every difficulty, I will drop the official phaseof my history, and proceed to matters rather more entertaining.
On the day after my departure from Petersburg, I had made myinspections, and was returning.
I had been received by my old friends of the cavalry with every mark ofcordial regard. General Hampton, General Lee, and the various officersand men whom I had known as a staff-officer of General Stuart, seemed towelcome the sight of a face which, perhaps, reminded them of theirdead leader; and I had pressed all these warm hands, and received thesefriendly greetings not without emotion--for I, too, was carried back tothe past.
I saw Mordaunt and Davenant, but not Mohun--he was absent, visitinghis picket line. Mordaunt was the same stately soldier--his grave andfriendly voice greeted me warmly as in old days; and Willie Davenant,now a major, commanding a battalion of horse artillery, shook hands withme, as shy and blushing as before--and even more sad.
"How had his suit prospered? Were things more encouraging?"
I asked him these questions with a laugh, apologizing for my intrusion.
He assured me sadly that it was not in the least an intrusion; but thathe had not seen the person to whom I alluded, for many months.
And executing a blush which would have become a girl, this youngtiger of the horse artillery--for such he always proved himself, ina fight--hastened to change the subject. Soon afterward I took mydeparture, turned my horse's head toward Petersburg, and set out at around trot between the walls of pine.
It was dusk when I reached the debouchment of the "military road,"and, tired and hungry, I was contemplating ruefully the long ride stillbefore me, when rapid hoof-strokes behind me attracted my attention,and, turning my head, I recognized the bold figure of Mohun.
He was mounted on a fine animal, and came at full speed.
In a moment he had caught up, recognized, and we exchanged a warm graspof the hand.
"I am delighted to see you, Surry. I thought you had deserted us, oldfellow. The sight of you is a treat!"
"And the sight of you, my dear Mohun. You look beaming."
Indeed, Mohun had never presented a better appearance, with his darkeyes; his tanned and glowing cheeks; his raven mustached lips, which,parting with a smile, showed white and regular teeth. He was the pictureof a gallant soldier; all h
is old melancholy and cynical bitternessgone, as mist is swept away by the morning sunshine.
"You are positively dazzling, Mohun. Where are you going, and what hashappened to you? Ah!--I begin to understand!"
And pointing northward, I said:--
"Five Forks is not far from here, is it?"
Mohun colored, but, the next moment, burst into laughter.
"You are right, old friend! It is impossible to hide any thing fromyou."
"And a friend of yours is there--whom you are going to see?"
"Yes, my dear Surry," was his reply, in a voice of sudden earnestness,"you are not mistaken, and you see I am like all the rest of the world.When we first met on the Rapidan, I was a woman-hater. I despisedthem all, for I had had reason. That was my state of mind, when a verybeautiful and noble girl, whom you have seen, crossed my path. Eventsthrew us together--first, the wound I received at Fleetwood--she caughtme as I was falling on that day--and several times afterward I sawand conversed with her, finding her proud, satirical, indifferent toadmiration, but as honest and true as steel. Still, our relationsdid not proceed beyond friendship, and when I told you one day inthe Wilderness that I was not her suitor, I spoke the truth. I am notexactly able to say as much to-day!--But to finish my account of myself:I came here to Dinwiddie on the right of the army, and a week or twoafter my arrival the enemy made a cavalry raid toward the Southsiderailroad. I followed, and came up with them as they were plundering ahouse not far from Five Forks. Well, I charged and drove them into thewoods--when, who should make her appearance at the door but Miss Conway,whom I had last seen in Culpeper! As you know, her father resideshere--he is now at Richmond--and, after following the enemy back totheir own lines, hurrying them up with sabre and carbine, I came back toinquire the extent of their depredations at Five Forks.
"Such is the simple explanation of the present 'situation,' my dearfriend. Miss Virginia cordially invited me to come whenever I could doso, and although Miss Georgia was less pressing--in fact, said nothingon the subject--I was not cast down thereby! I returned, have been oftensince, and--that's all."
Mohun laughed the heart's laugh. You have heard that, have you not,reader? "Now tell me about yourself," he added, "and on the way toFive Forks! I see you are tired and hungry. Come! they have the easiestchairs yonder, and are the soul of hospitality!"
The offer was tempting. Why not accept it? My hesitation lasted exactlythree seconds.
At the end of that time, I was riding beside Mohun in the direction ofFive Forks, which we reached just as I terminated my account of myselfsince Mohun and I had parted in the Wilderness.
XVI.
"FIVE FORKS."
"Five Forks" was an old mansion not far from the place of the same name,now become historical. It was a building of large size; the grounds wereextensive, and had been elegant; the house had evidently been the homeof a long line of gentlemen, whose portraits, flanked by those of theirfair helpmates, adorned the walls of the great drawing-room, between thelofty windows. In the hall stood a tall bookcase, filled with lawbooks, and volumes of miscellany. From the woodwork hung pictures ofracehorses, and old engravings. Such was the establishment which theFederal cavalry had visited, leaving, as always, their traces, in brokenfurniture, smashed crockery, and trampled grounds.
I shall not pause to describe my brief visit to this hospitable house.The young ladies had returned from Richmond some time before, escortedby the gray-haired Juba, that faithful old African retainer; and, as aresult of the evenings which I had spent with them and their father, Ihad the honor to be received in the character of an old friend.
Ten minutes after my arrival I saw that Mohun was passionately inlove with Miss Georgia; and I thought I perceived as clearly that shereturned his affection. Their eyes--those tell-tales--were incessantlymeeting; and Mohun followed every movement of the queenly girl withthose long, fixed glances, which leave nothing in doubt.
The younger sister, Miss Virginia, received me with charming sweetness,but a secret melancholy weighed down the dusky eye-lashes. The blue eyeswere sad; the very smiles on the rosy lips were sad. All was plain here,too, at a single glance. The pure girl had given her heart to the braveWillie Davenant, and some mysterious hostility of her father toward theyoung officer, forced them apart.
What was the origin of that hostility? Why had Judge Conway so abruptlytorn his daughter away from Davenant at the ball in Culpeper--and whyhad that shadow passed over the old statesman's brow when I uttered thename of the young man in Richmond?
I asked myself these questions vainly--and decided in my mind that Ishould probably never know.
I was mistaken. I was going to know before midnight.
After an excellent supper, over which Miss Georgia presided with statelydignity--for she, too, had changed, in as marked a degree as Mohun,--Irose, declared I must return to Petersburg, and bade the young ladies,who cordially pressed me to remain, good-night.
Mohun declared that he would remain an hour longer--and having promiseda visit soon, at his camp on the Rowanty, I mounted my horse, and setout, through the darkness, for Petersburg.
XVII.
GENERAL DAVENANT.
Following the White Oak road, I passed Hatcher's Run at Burgess's mill,and went on over the Boydton road, reflecting upon the scene I had justleft.
All at once my horse placed his foot upon a sharp root in the road,stumbled, nearly fell, and when I touched him with the spur I found thathe limped painfully.
Dismounting, I examined his foot. The sharp point had entered it, and itwas bleeding profusely. The accident was unfortunate--and, attempting toride on, I found the hurt worse than I had expected. My gray staggeredon as if the limb were broken.
I dismounted once more, led him slowly by the bridle, and continued myway on foot. A quarter of a mile farther, the animal was in such agonythat I looked around for some light, by which to examine the hurt morefully.
On the right, a glimmer was seen through the trees. I made straighttoward it, through the woods, and soon found myself near a group oftents, one of which was lit up.
"Whose head-quarters are these?" I asked of a man on post, near.
"Mine, my dear colonel," said a voice in the darkness near. "My candleyonder is hospitable and enables me to recognize you."
With which words the figure advanced into the light, and I recognizedthe tall and stately form of General Davenant.
He gave me his hand cordially, and I explained my dilemma. "You areunfortunate, but fortunate, too," said Davenant, "as I have a manamong my couriers who knows all about horses. I will send yours to him;meanwhile come into my tent."
And intrusting my horse to the orderly with some brief directions, thegeneral led the way into his head-quarters tent.
A cheerful fire burned in the rude log-built chimney. On one side were aplain desk and two camp-stools; on the other a rough couch of pine logs,filled with straw, and spread with blankets. Upon the blankets a boyof about fourteen was sound asleep, the light auburn curls tossed indisorder over the rosy young face. At a glance I recognized the youthwho had entered the ranks at Gettysburg, taken part in Pickett's charge,and been borne out through the smoke, wounded and bleeding, in the armsof his father. The young Charley had evidently recovered, and was asruddy as before. His little braided jacket was as jaunty, his face assmiling, as on that evening near Paris.
An hour afterward, General Davenant and myself were conversing like oldfriends. We were by no means strangers, as I had repeatedly been thrownwith him in the army, and my intimacy with Will doubtless commended meto the brave soldier's regard. An accident now seemed about to makeus still better acquainted. The orderly had reported that it wouldbe impossible to proceed farther with my horse that night, and I hadaccepted the invitation of General Davenant to remain with him untilmorning.
"My brigade is holding the right of the army, colonel," he had said; "wehave just moved to this position, and have not had time to become verycomfortable. But I can offer you a tolerab
le supper and a camp-bed afterit, with a warm welcome, I assure you."
I declined the supper, but accepted the bed; and seated opposite thegrizzled old cavalier, in his gray uniform, had begun to converse.
Something about the stately general of infantry, drew me irresistiblytoward him. His bearing was lofty, and not without a species of hauteur;but under all was an exquisite high-breeding and courtesy, which madehis society quite charming.
At some words of mine, however, in reference to my visit on this day tohis son, a decided expression of gloom had obscured the smiles of theold soldier.
"Yes, colonel," he said, with something like a sigh, "Willie has losthis good spirits, and has been much depressed for more than a year. Youare his friend--you share his confidence--you doubtless know the originof this depression."
"I do, general; a very common cause of trouble to young men--a younglady."
"A young lady," repeated General Davenant, in the same gloomy tone."He has committed the imprudence of falling in love, as the phrase is,with--Miss Conway."
He paused before the words "Miss Conway," and uttered them with evidentrepugnance. They issued from his lips, indeed, with a species of jerk;and he seemed glad to get rid of them, if I may so express myself.
"I can talk of this affair with you, colonel," he added, gloomily, "forWill has told me of your regard for him."
I bowed, and said:--
"You are not wrong in supposing that I am one of your son's bestfriends, general. I was long in the cavalry with him--there is no moreheroic soldier in the army--and it has given me sincere sorrow to seehim laboring under such melancholy."
Mohun; Or, the Last Days of Lee and His Paladins. Page 27
