"I have seen _him_ again--General Davenant," he said, in a low voice;"it is the second time."
As he uttered these words, Darke seemed the prey of some singularemotion.
"It was at Gettysburg first," he continued. "He was leading the charge,on the third day, against Cemetery Heights. I was there by accident.They were repulsed. When he rode back, he was carrying a bleeding boyin his arms through the smoke. I recognized his tall form and gray hair;and heard his voice in the midst of the cannon, as he cheered on hismen."
The speaker's face had flushed. His breast rose and fell.
"That was the first time," he said. "The second was the other day whenhe was riding among the enemy's guns near Bristoe--I made him out withmy glasses."
Darke bent down, and gazed at the floor in silence. The fire in the darkeyes had deepened. His heavy under lip was caught in the large, sharpteeth.
All at once a ringing laugh disturbed the silence. There was a mockingintonation in it which was unmistakable.
"General Davenant!" exclaimed the woman. "Well, who is GeneralDavenant?"
Darke looked at the mocking speaker sidewise.
"Who is General Davenant?" he said. "Is it necessary that I enlightenyou, madam? He is my bugbear--my death's head! The sight of him poisonsmy life, and something gnaws at me, driving me nearly mad! To see thatman chills me, like the hand of death!"
The woman looked at him and then began to laugh.
"You do unbend your noble strength, my lord!" she said, "to thinkso brainsickly of things!" throwing into the word, "brainsickly,"exaggerated stage-rant.
"One would say," she continued, "that the brave Colonel Darke had theblues to-day! Take care how you meet Colonel Mohun in this mood! Theresult might be unfortunate."
Darke made no reply for some moments. He was gazing with knit brows uponthe floor. Then he raised his head.
"You return to the subject of your friend," he said, coldly.
"Yes. The subject is agreeable."
"Well, I can give you intelligence of him--unless Swartz has anticipatedme."
"What intelligence?"
"Your friend Mohun is in love--again!"
The woman's face flushed suddenly.
"With whom?" she said.
"Ah! there is the curious part of the affair, madam!" returned Darke.
And in a low tone he added:--
"The name of the young lady is--Georgia Conway."
The woman half rose from her chair, with flashing eyes, and said:--
"Who told you that?"
Darke smiled. There was something lugubrious in that chilly mirth.
"An emissary on whom I can rely, brought me the intelligence," he said,"Colonel Mohun was wounded in the battle of Fleetwood, and entering ahouse where _she_ was nursing the wounded, fainted, and was caught inher arms. From that moment the affair began. She nursed him, and he wassoon healed. I had myself inflicted the wound with a pistol ball--butthe hurt was trifling. He got well in a few days--and was ready to meetme again at Upperville--but in those few days the young lady and himselfbecame enamored of each other. She is proud, they say, and had alwayslaughed at love--he too is a woman-hater--no doubt from some old affair,madam!--but both the young people suddenly changed their views. ColonelMohun became devoted; the young woman forgot her sarcasm. My emissarysaw them riding out more than once near Culpeper Court-House; and sincethe return of the army, they have been billing and cooing like twodoves, quite love sick! That's agreeable, is it not, madam?"
And Darke uttered a singular laugh. As for the woman she had grown sopale, I thought she would faint.
"Do you understand, madam?" continued Darke. "Colonel Mohun is in love_again_; and the name of his friend is--Georgia Conway!"
The woman was silent; but I saw that she was gnawing her nails.
"My budget is not exhausted, madam," continued Darke. "The young ladyhas a sister; her name is Virginia. She too has a love affair with ayoung officer of the artillery. His name is William Davenant!"
And the speaker clutched the arm of a chair so violently that the woodcracked in his powerful grasp.
"That is all!" he added. "The Mohuns, Davenants and Conways, are aboutto intermarry, you see! Their blood is going to mingle, their hands toclasp, in spite of the gulf of fire that divides their people! All isforgotten, or they care nothing. They are yonder, billing, and cooing,and kissing! the tender hearts are throbbing--all the world is bright tothem--while I am here, and you, tearing our hearts out in despair!"
Darke stopped, uttering a sound between a curse and a groan. Thewoman had listened with a bitter smile. As he finished, she rose andapproached him. Her eyes burned in the pale face like coals of fire.
"There is a better thing than despair!" she said.
"What?"
"Vengeance!"
And grasping his arm almost violently:--
"That man is yonder!" she said, pointing with the other hand towardWarrenton, "Go and meet him, and kill him, and end all this at once!Remember the banks of the Nottaway!--That sword thrust--that grave!Remember, he hates you with a deadly hatred--has wounded you, laughedat you,--driven you back, when you met him, like a hound under the lash!Remember me!--your oath! Break that oath and I will go and kill himmyself!"
As she uttered these words a cannon shot thundered across the woods.
"Listen!" the woman exclaimed.
Darke rose suddenly to his feet.
"You are right!" he said, gloomily. "You keep me to the work. I do nothate him as you do--but he is an enemy, and I will kill him. Why do Iyield to you, and obey you thus? What makes me love you, I wonder!"
Suddenly a second gun roared from beyond Buckland.
"We will talk of that afterward," said the woman, with flushed cheeks;"think of one thing only now--that _he_ is yonder."
"Good!" said Darke, "and I hope that in an hour one of us will be dead,I care not which--come, madam--but you must not expose yourself!"
"What am I!"
"All I have left!" he said.
And with a gloomy look he rushed from the house, followed by the graywoman.
XII.
THE BUCKLAND RACES.
In a moment the voice of Darke was heard, ordering "to horse!" a clatterof sabres followed; and the company of cavalry sat out at full galloptoward the firing.
At their head I saw Darke's burly figure. The woman, escorted by anorderly, rode toward the rear.
In a few minutes the company of cavalry had entered a belt of woods anddisappeared.
We had hastened into the apartment--Tom and myself, and looked nowtoward the highway. It was dark with a long column of Federal cavalrywhich seemed to be in great agitation.
The column, as well as I could make out, numbered at least a division.Neither the head nor the tail of the blue serpent was visible--only themain body, with its drawn sabres glittering like silver scales in thesun.
I hesitated not many seconds. Something was evidently going on, and ourpresent whereabouts dangerous.
With a hasty salute to the young ladies who had hurried in, I made asign to Tom, and ran to my horse.
My companion did not join me for at least five minutes. Impatience beganto master me, when he appeared, laughing, and flourishing a knot of redribbon, which I had observed in Miss Katy's hair.
With a bound he was in the saddle--I saw him turn and make a gay salutetoward the ladies on the steps, and then we set out at full speed acrossthe fields to rejoin Stuart.
He was evidently engaged with the enemy. From the front came quickcarbine shots and shouts. From the woods, on the left flank and in rearof the enemy, was heard the rapid thunder of cannon.
Suddenly every thing flashed upon me. I remembered Stuart's significantsmile; the absence of Fitz Lee; a trap had evidently been laid, andGeneral Kilpatrick had fallen into it.
I was not deceived. The gallant Fitz Lee had suggested the ruse. He wasto move toward Auburn, while Stuart retreated upon Warrenton, pursuedby Kilpatrick. Then Fitz Lee was to
attack the enemy in flank and rear,from the direction of Auburn--his cannon would be the signal for Stuartto turn. General Kilpatrick, thus assailed in front, flank and rear,_sauve qui pent_ would, probably, be the order of the day with him.
Every thing turned out exactly as it had been arranged. Stuart retiredsteadily on Warrenton. When the Federal rear approached Buckland, FitzLee came in on their left flank, and then Stuart turned like a tiger,and bore down on the head of their column.
That gun we had heard was the signal of Fitz Lee's attack. Those carbineshots came from Stuart as his men charged.
We had set out at full speed to rejoin Stuart, as I have said; but hesaved Tom and myself the trouble of riding very far. He came to meetus, at full gallop, with drawn sabre, driving the Federal troopers indisorder before him.
The affair that succeeded was one of the most animated of the war.
The enemy were completely dumbfoundered, but a part of Kilpatrick'sforce made a hard fight. Sabres clashed, carbines cracked, Fitz Lee'sartillery roared--the fields and woods around Buckland were full oftumult and conflict.
In ten minutes we had caught up with Stuart. He was leading his columnin person. At the head of the front regiment rode Mohun, with drawnsabre, and pressing his magnificent gray to headlong speed. In his eyewas the splendid joy of combat; his cheeks glowed; his laughing lipsrevealed the white teeth under the black mustache. It was difficult torecognize in this gay cavalier, the pale, bitter and melancholy cynic ofthe previous June.
"Look, Surry!" exclaimed Mohun, "we are driving our friend Kilpatrick!Stuart is down on him like a lion!"
"You are driving a personal friend of yours, besides!" I said. "Yonderhe is--Colonel Darke!"
Mohun's smile disappeared suddenly. He looked at Darke, whose burlyfigure was seen at the head of the charging column; and that glance wastroubled and doubtful.
"I am sorry to meet him," he said, in a low tone.
"Why?"
"He would not strike me yonder, in Pennsylvania, when I was in hispower."
"But he has sworn to kill you to-day!" I exclaimed. "I have just heardhim swear that! Look out, Mohun! here they are!"
In an instant the two columns had clashed together, like thunder. Whatfollowed was a fierce and confused struggle--sabres clashing, carbinesbanging, men shouting, groaning, and falling from their horses, whichtrampled over the dead and wounded alike.
I was close beside Mohun as he closed in with Darke. The latter hadplainly resolved on his enemy's destruction; and in an instant the twomen were cutting furiously at each other with their sabres. They werebody to body--their faces flamed--it was rather a wrestle on horseback,than a sword fight.
Suddenly Mohun delivered a blow which fell upon his opponent's swordhand, nearly cutting through the fingers. Darke's arm instinctivelyfell, and he was at his adversary's mercy.
Instead of plunging his sword into Darke's breast, however, as he mighthave done, Mohun let its point fall, and said:--
"Take your life! Now I am even with you, sir!"
Darke recoiled, and a furious flash darted from his eyes. Then his lefthand went to his hilt; he drew a pistol; and spurring close up to Mohun,placed the weapon on his enemy's breast, and fired.
The bullet passed through Mohun's breast, but at the same instant Darkeuttered a fierce cry. Mohun had driven his sword's point through theFederal officer's throat--the blood spouted around the blade--a momentafterward the two adversaries had clutched, dragged each other fromtheir rearing horses, and were tearing each other with hands and teethon the ground, wet with their blood.
One of Mohun's men leaped from horseback and tore them apart.
"A sword! give me a sword," exclaimed Mohun, hoarsely.
And rising to his feet, he clutched at an imaginary weapon,--his lipsfoamed with blood,--and reeling, he fell at full length on the body ofhis adversary, who was bathed in blood, and seemed to be dying.
What is here described, all took place in a few minutes. In that timethe enemy's column had been broken, and hurled back. Suddenly the wildSouthern cheer rang above the woods. Stuart and Fitz Lee had unitedtheir forces; in one solid column they pressed the flying enemy, bangingand thundering on their rear with carbines and cannon.
Kilpatrick was defeated; his column in hopeless rout.
"Stuart boasts of having driven me from Culpeper;" he is reported tohave said just before the fight, "and now I am going to drive _him_."
But Stuart was not driven. On the contrary, he drove Kilpatrick. Someof the enemy's column did not stop, it is said, before they reached thebanks of the Potomac.
Such was the dramatic termination of the last great cavalry campaign ofStuart.
The affair came to be known as "The Buckland Races," and Stuart's oldsabreurs still laugh as they recall the comedy.
XIII.
TWO SCENES IN DECEMBER, 1863.
The campaign of October, 1863, was over. Lee was behind the Rapidan.
In December General Meade struck a blow, in turn, at his adversary.
Shall we glance, in passing, at that affair of Mine Run? I saw aspectacle there--and a sad one, too--which I am tempted to describe,though aware it has little to do with my narrative. I have left ColonelsMohun and Darke in a bloody embrace yonder near Buckland. I oughtto relate at length how they were not dead, and how they in due timerecovered, but for the moment I think of a fine sight, and a weepingface, which I saw in the woods below Verdiersville.
Let us ride thither, reader, it will not take long.
In December, then, General Meade crossed the lower Rapidan, and advancedto assail General Lee in his works above.
A fiasco followed. Meade marched toward Verdiersville; found hisadversary behind earth-works, near that place; reconnoitered them, feltthem, moved backward and forward before them--and then, one morning,before General Lee was aware of the fact, quietly disappeared, returningto the north bank of the Rapidan.
You see I have no battles to describe on this occasion, reader. We hadsome hard fighting in the cavalry, but I shall not dwell upon that. Itis some handsome fire-necklaces, and a talk with an old woman, which Ishall speak of.
The fire-necklaces were manufactured by General Meade's troops, justbefore their retreat. The men had fallen into line at the word; movedsilently toward the Rapidan, and had not taken the trouble, in leavingthe rebel woods, to extinguish their bivouac fires, amid the thickets,carpeted with leaves. The result was a splendid spectacle. The fireshad gradually burned outward, devouring the carpet of dry leaves. Greatcircles of flame were seen everywhere in the woods, and these dazzlingfire-necklaces grew larger and larger, twined together, becameentangled, twisted about, sparkled, crackled,--of all the sights I eversaw I think this was the most curious!
From time to time the flames crawled along and reached the foot of sometall tree, festooned with dry vines. Then the vine would catch; theflame would dart through the festoons; climb the trunk; stream from thesummit,--and above the blazing rings, twisting in endless convolutions,would roar a mighty tongue of flame, crimson, baleful, and menacing.
It was a new "torch of war," invented by General Meade.
Such was the picturesque spectacle which rose a moment ago to my memory.
Now for the sad scene which I witnessed, as I rode back with Stuart.
Passing a small house, a poor woman came out, and with eyes full oftears, exclaimed, addressing Stuart:--
"Oh, child! stop a minute! Are they coming back? They have took everything I had--they are _not_ coming back!"[1]
[Footnote 1: Her words.]
Stuart stopped. He was riding at the head of his staff, preceded by hisbattle-flag. Not a trace of amusement was seen on his features, as heheard himself addressed in that phrase, "Oh, child!"
"Have they treated you so badly?" he said, in his grave, kind voice.
"Oh, yes!" exclaimed the poor woman, weeping bitterly, "they havetook every hog, cow, and ear of corn I have, and every thing from mydaughter; she is a widow, and lives near us.
These are her children, mygrandchildren, come to get out of the way."[1]
[Footnote 1: Her words.]
And she pointed to two or three little girls, with frightened faces, andeyes wet with tears.
Stuart seemed deeply affected. Under that stout heart, which nevershrunk, was a wealth of sweetness and kindness.
"Well, they are not coming back, my good woman," he said, in a voice ofdeep feeling. "You need not be afraid--they are gone now."
The poor woman clasped her hands.
"Oh! do you believe that, child!"[1] she said; "do you believe they'llnever come back?"
[Footnote 1: Her words.]
"I hope not, at least," Stuart replied, in a low tone.
"She clasped her hands, and for the third time addressing him as'child,' sobbed:--
"Oh! if they will only never come back!"
That scene affected me deeply. The poor woman's tears brought somethinginto my throat which seemed to choke me. This time the Northern soldiershad been impartial in their marauding. They had not only destroyed theproperty, and carried off the slaves of the wealthy proprietors, the"bloated aristocrats;" they had taken the bread out of the mouths of thewidow and the fatherless--leaving them bare and starving in that bleakDecember of '63.
War conducted in that manner is barbarous--is it not, reader? The cry ofthat widow and her children must have gone up to Heaven.
Stuart returned to his bivouac in the pine wood near Verdiersville,where he had slept without tents, by his camp-fire, all these freezingnights. Then the army began to move; soon it resumed its formerposition; the cavalry was sent to watch the fords of the Rapidan; andStuart returned to his own head-quarters near Orange Court-House, gaylysinging, as he had left them to advance and meet the enemy.
Mohun; Or, the Last Days of Lee and His Paladins. Page 13