Part 64 (1/2)

carrying out his programme; and, the military view apart, never was spectacle more picturesque than that presented in these combats.

The long lines of works were wreathed with the smoke of battle. The glare of cannon lit the smoke-cloud; mortar sh.e.l.ls rose, described their fiery curves, and descended in the trenches, and these were saluted as they rose and fell by the crack of musketry, the roar of artillery, the echoing cheers of the blue and gray people, who never seemed weary of fighting, yelling, and paying their compliments to each other. At night the spectacle was superb; the mortars were like flocks of fire-birds, swooping down upon their prey. The horizon glared at each cannon-shot; sh.e.l.l burst in vivid lightnings, s.h.i.+ning for a moment, then extinguished. And yonder object, like a bloodshot eye, s.h.i.+ning grimly through the darkness,--what is that? It is a lamp, my dear reader, with a transparent shade; and on this shade is written, for the information of 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,--the former commanding. Fitz Lee, with his division, was in the Valley.

Such, reader was the situation, when I joined the army. The great fifth act 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 soon found myself in the heart of the shadowy pine woods of that singular country, Dinwiddie.

My official duty was to inspect and report the condition of the cavalry and horse artillery of the army at the beginning and middle of each month. And now, first a.s.suring the reader that I performed my duty in all weather, and amid every difficulty, I will drop the official phase of my history, and proceed to matters rather more entertaining.

On the day after my departure from Petersburg, I had made my inspections, and was returning.

I had been received by my old friends of the cavalry with every mark of cordial regard. General Hampton, General Lee, and the various officers and men whom I had known as a staff-officer of General Stuart, seemed to welcome the sight of a face which, perhaps, reminded them of their dead leader; and I had pressed all these warm hands, and received these friendly greetings not without emotion--for I, too, was carried back to the past.

I saw Mordaunt and Davenant, but not Mohun--he was absent, visiting his picket line. Mordaunt was the same stately soldier--his grave and friendly voice greeted me warmly as in old days; and Willie Davenant, now a major, commanding a battalion of horse artillery, shook hands with me, as shy and blus.h.i.+ng 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 a.s.sured me sadly that it was not in the least an intrusion; but that he had not seen the person to whom I alluded, for many months.

And executing a blush which would have become a girl, this young tiger of the horse artillery--for such he always proved himself, in a fight--hastened to change the subject. Soon afterward I took my departure, turned my horse's head toward Petersburg, and set out at a round 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 still before 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 grasp of the hand.

”I am delighted to see you, Surry. I thought you had deserted us, old fellow. 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 dark eyes; his tanned and glowing cheeks; his raven mustached lips, which, parting with a smile, showed white and regular teeth. He was the picture of a gallant soldier; all his old melancholy and cynical bitterness gone, as mist is swept away by the morning suns.h.i.+ne.

”You are positively dazzling, Mohun. Where are you going, and what has happened to you? Ah!--I begin to understand!”