Mohun; Or, the Last Days of Lee and His Paladins.

by John Esten Cooke

  Mr. X----- listened with close attention, asking few questions.

  When Nighthawk had made his report, the statesman looked at his watch,said, _sotto voce_, "Midnight--too late," and added aloud:--

  "Come back at ten to-morrow morning, my friend; your information ishighly interesting and important."

  Nighthawk rose, and I did likewise, declining the courteous requestof Mr. X----- to prolong my visit. He held the door open with greatpoliteness and said, smiling:--

  "I need not say, my dear colonel, that the views I have expressed thisevening are confidential--for the present, at least."

  "Assuredly," I replied, with a bow and a smile.

  "Hereafter you are at liberty to repeat them, if you wish, only I begyou will ascribe them to Mr. X-----, an unknown quantity. If you write abook, and put me in it, send me a copy--in Canada!"

  A moment afterward I was wending my way through the shrubbery, thinkingof the curious personage I had left.

  At the gate Nighthawk awaited me, and I scarcely recognized him. He hadresumed his red beard, and green glasses.

  "I am glad to see you again, colonel," he said benignantly; "I heardthat you were in the city and called at your lodgings, but found youabsent."

  "You wished to see me particularly, then, Nighthawk."

  "Yes, and to-night, colonel."

  "Ah!"

  "I know you are a friend of General Mohun's."

  "A very sincere friend."

  "Well, I think we will be able to do him a very great service byattending to a little matter in which he is interested, colonel. Are youdisengaged, and willing to accompany me?"

  X.

  THE WAY THE MONEY WENT.

  I looked intently at Nighthawk. He was evidently very much in earnest.

  "I am entirely disengaged, and perfectly willing to accompany you," Isaid; "but where?"

  Nighthawk smiled.

  "You know I am a mysterious person, colonel, both by character andprofession. I fear the habit is growing on me, in spite of everyexertion I make. I predict I will end by burning my coat, for fear itwill tell some of my secrets."

  "Well," I said with a smile, "keep your secret then, and lead the way. Iam ready to go far to oblige Mohun in any thing."

  "I thank you, colonel, from my heart. You have only to follow me."

  And Nighthawk set out at a rapid pace, through the grounds of thecapitol, toward the lower part of the city.

  There was something as singular about the walk of my companion, as abouthis appearance. He went at a great pace, but his progress was entirelynoiseless. You would have said that he was skimming along upon invisiblewings.

  In an incredibly short time we had reached a street below the capitol,and my companion, who had walked straight on without turning his headto the right or the left, all at once paused before a tall anddingy-looking house, which would have appeared completely uninhabited,except for a bright red light which shone through a circular opening inthe door.

  At this door Nighthawk gave a single tap. The glass covering thecircular space glided back, and a face reconnoitred. My companionuttered two words; and the door opened, giving access to a stairs, whichwe ascended, the janitor having already disappeared.

  At the head of the stairs was a door which Nighthawk opened, and wefound ourselves in an apartment where a dozen persons were playing faro.

  Upon these Nighthawk threw a rapid glance--some one whom he appeared tobe seeking, was evidently not among the players.

  Another moment he returned through the door, I following, and weascended a second flight of stairs, at the top of which was a seconddoor. Here another janitor barred the way, but my companion againuttered some low words,--the door opened; a magnificently lit apartment,with a buffet of liquors, and every edible, presented itself before us;and in the midst of a dozen personages, who were playing furiously, Irecognized--Mr. Blocque, Mr. Croker, Mr. Torpedo, and Colonel Desperade.

  For some moments I stood watching the spectacle, and it veryconsiderably enlarged my experience. Before me I saw prominentpoliticians, officers of high rank, employees of government holdingresponsible positions, all gambling with an ardor that amounted tofury. One gentleman in uniform--apparently of the quartermaster'sdepartment--held in his hand a huge package of Confederate notes, ofthe denominations, of $100 and $500, and this worthy staked, twice, thepretty little amount of $10,000 upon a card, and each time lost.

  The play so absorbed the soldiers, lawgivers, and law-administrators,that our presence was unperceived. My friend, Mr. Blocque, did not turnhis head; Mr. Croker, Mr. Torpedo, and Colonel Desperade, were red inthe face and oblivious.

  After that evening I knew where some of the public money went.

  As I was looking at the strange scene of reckless excitement, one of theplayers, a portly individual with black mustache, rich dark curls,gold spectacles, and wearing a fine suit of broadcloth--rose and lookedtoward us. Nighthawk was already gazing at him; and suddenly I saw theirglances cross like steel rapiers. They had evidently recognized eachother; and going up to the gentleman of the spectacles, Nighthawk said afew words in a low voice, which I did not distinguish.

  "With pleasure, my dear friend," said the portly gentleman, "but you aresure you are not provided with a detective of General Winder's?"

  "Can you believe such a thing?" returned Nighthawk, reproachfully.

  "I thought it possible you might have one waiting below; but if you giveme your word, Nighthawk--"

  And without further objection the worthy followed Nighthawk and myselfdown the stairs.

  As we approached the outer door, the invisible janitor opened it; weissued forth into the street; and the portly gentleman, fixing a keenlook upon me in the clear moonlight, said:--

  "I believe we have had the pleasure of meeting before, colonel."

  "I am ashamed to say I do not remember where, sir," I said.

  "My memory is better, colonel; we met last May, in a house in theWilderness, near Chancellorsville."

  "Is it possible that you are--"

  "Swartz, very much at your service. It is wonderful what a difference ismade by a wig and spectacles!"

  As he spoke, he gracefully removed his black wig and the goldspectacles. In the man with gray hair, small eyes, and double chin, Irecognized the spy of the Wilderness.

  XI.

  THE PASS.

  Replacing his wig and spectacles, Mr. Swartz smiled in a good-humoredmanner, and said:--

  "May I ask to what I am indebted for this visit?"

  Nighthawk replied even more blandly:--

  "I wish to have a conversation with you, my dear Swartz, beforearresting you."

  "Ah! you intend to arrest me!"

  "Unless you make it unnecessary."

  "How?"

  "By producing the paper which we spoke of in the Wilderness," saidNighthawk, briefly.

  Swartz shook his head.

  "That is not in my power, my friend. I did not bring it with me."

  "Will you think me very impolite if I say I do not believe you, my dearSwartz?"

  Swartz smiled.

  "Well, that would be speaking without ceremony, my friend--but I assureyou I am unable to do as you desire."

  "Aha! you repeat that curious statement, my dear Swartz! Well, oblige meby accompanying me to the provost-marshal's."

  "You arrest me?"

  "Precisely."

  "As a spy?"

  "Why not?"

  "It is impossible, Nighthawk!"

  "You resist?"

  "I might do so."

  And, opening his coat, Mr. Swartz exhibited a bowie-knife and revolver.

  "I show you these little toys," said he, laughing good-humoredly, "tolet you see, my friend, that I might oppose your project--and you know Iam not backward in using them on occasion. But I make a difference.You are not a common police-officer or detective, Nighthawk--you area friend and comrade, and I am going to prove that I appreciate yourfeelings, and respect your wishes."


  Nighthawk fixed his eyes on the speaker and listened.

  "You are a friend of General Mohun's," said Mr. Swartz, with bland goodhumor; "you wish to secure a certain document in which he is interested;you fancy I have that document here in the city of Richmond; and yourobject, very naturally, is to force me to surrender it. Well, I do notobject to doing so--for a consideration. I fully intend to produceit, when my terms are accepted. I would have stated them to you in theWilderness, but you were unable to meet me--or to General Mohun, but hisviolence defeated every thing. You meet me now, and without discussion,demand the paper. I reply, that I have not brought it with me, butthree days from this time will meet you at a spot agreed on, with thedocument, for which you will return me--my consideration."

  Nighthawk shook his head.

  "Unfortunately, my dear Swartz, experience tells me that the present isalways the best time for business--that 'a bird in the hand is worth twoin the bush.'"

  Mr. Swartz smiled sweetly.

  "And I am the bird in your hand?"

  "Something like it."

  "I am a spy?"

  "Don't use hard names, my friend."

  "By no means, my dear Nighthawk, and if I have hurt your feelings, Ideeply regret it. But I am speaking to the point. You regard me as aFederal spy, lurking in Richmond--you penetrate my disguise, and aregoing to arrest me, and search my lodgings for that paper."

  "The necessity is painful," said Nighthawk.

  "It is useless, my friend."

  "I will try it."

  Swartz smiled, and drew a paper from his pocket, which he unfolded.

  "You are then determined to arrest your old comrade, Nighthawk."

  "Yes, my dear Swartz."

  "As a spy?"

  "Exactly."

  "In spite of this?"

  And Mr. Swartz held out the paper.

  "Do me the favor to read this, colonel, and then oblige me by returningit."

  I took the paper, and easily read it by moonlight. It contained thefollowing words:--

  "The bearer is employed on secret service, by the ConfederateGovernment, and will not be molested."

  The paper was signed by a personage of high position in the government,and was stamped with the seal of the department over which he presided.There could be no doubt of the genuineness of the paper. The worthyMr. Swartz loomed up before me in the novel and unexpected light of a_Confederate_ emissary!

  I read the paper aloud to Nighthawk, and pointed to the officialsignature and seal.

  Nighthawk uttered a groan, and his chin sank upon his breast.

  That spectacle seemed to excite the sympathy of his friend.

  "There, my dear Nighthawk," said Mr. Swartz, in a feeling tone, "don'ttake the blow too much to heart. I have beaten you, this game, and yourhands are tied at present. But I swear that I will meet you, and producethat paper."

  "When?" murmured Nighthawk.

  "In three days from this time."

  "Where?"

  "At the house of our friend Alibi, near Monk's Neck, in Dinwiddie."

  "On your word?"

  "On the word of Swartz!"

  "That is enough, my dear Swartz; I will be at Alibi's, when we willcome to terms. And now, pardon this visit, which has put you to so muchinconvenience. I was merely jesting, my dear friend, when I spokeof arresting you. Arrest you! Nothing could induce me to think of sounfriendly a proceeding. And now, good night, my dear friend. I willreturn with you, colonel."

  With which words Nighthawk saluted his "friend," and we returned towardthe upper part of the city.

  Such were the scenes of a night in the summer of 1864.

  XII.

  THE GRAVE OF STUART.

  On the next morning a piece of good fortune befell me. In spite ofcontinued visits to the war-office, and an amount of importunity whichmust have been exceedingly annoying to the gentlemen of the red tape,I found myself, at the end of August, apparently no nearer to an"assignment to duty" than at first.

  It really seemed that the Confederate States had no need of my services;that the privilege of performing military duty in behalf of theGovernment was one jealously guarded, and not to be lightly bestowedupon any one. I was in despair, and was revolving the project ofresigning my empty commission, and enlisting in the cavalry as aprivate soldier, when the _deus ex machina_ to extricate me from allmy troubles, appeared in the person of Colonel P-----, of armyhead-quarters.

  This accomplished soldier and gentleman met me as I was coming out ofthe war-office, on the morning after the visit to Mr. X-----, lookingI suppose, like some descendant of the Knight of the SorrowfulCountenance, and stopped to inquire the cause of my dejection. Iinformed him of the whole affair, and he laughed heartily. "You haveset about your affairs, my dear colonel, in a manner entirely wrong,"he said. "You should have gone to some general, discovered that yourgrandmother and his own were third cousins; expressed your admirationof his valor; denounced the brother-general with whom he was quarreling;written puffs to the papers about him; and then, one morning said, 'Bythe by, general, you are entitled to another staff officer.' The resultwould have been a glowing letter to the war department, requesting yourassignment--you would have attained your object--you would have beentorn from the horrors of Richmond, and once more enjoyed the greatprivilege of being shot at!"

  I echoed the colonel's laugh.

  "Alas!" I said, "I have no genius for all that. I never yet could 'crookthe hinges of the knee that thrift might follow fawning,' and I supposeI shall be compelled to resign, and enter the ranks. Why not? Better menare there, carrying musket or carbine, or pulling the lanyard."

  "Still you gained your rank by your services--and I am going to make youan offer which will enable you to retain it. Come and be my assistantinspector-general--an officer is required to inspect the cavalry andhorse artillery, which is so distant, often, that I have no time tovisit them."

  "A thousand thanks, colonel! You could not offer me a more pleasantduty."

  "You will have to ride a great deal, but will have a great deal offreedom. If you consent to my proposition, I will have the matterarranged at once, and will request you to make a tour of inspection toGeneral Early's army, near Winchester."

  He looked at me, laughing.

  "'The Oaks' is--a charming place," he added, "and you are certain tobe very tired when you reach the vicinity of Markham's! If you find itconvenient to stop there--say, for a day or more--present my regards toColonel Beverly, and any of the family you find present!"

  With which words he laughed again, shook me by the hand, and then histall form disappeared in the doorway of the war office.

  On the next day I found my assignment awaiting me. I was appointedassistant inspector-general of the cavalry and horse artillery of thearmy of Northern Virginia. Tremendous title!

  That evening I went by railway to Petersburg, to visit Colonel P-----,and receive his instructions. Returning the same night, the next dayset out on horseback for the Valley of the Shenandoah, by way of Orange,Gaines's Cross Roads, and Ashby's Gap.

  Of this journey it is unnecessary for me to speak in the present volume.Some curious adventures occurred to me, in the valley, near Millwood,and I made the acquaintance of St. Leger Landon, of "Bizarre," oneof the bravest and truest gentlemen I have ever known. The adventuresalluded to, and some events in the strange history of my friend, CaptainLandon, are embraced in a separate memoir, to which I have given thefanciful title, _Hilt to Hilt, or Days and Nights on the Banks of theShenandoah_.

  I remained in the valley from the first to the eighteenth of September,when I set out on my return to Petersburg, little thinking that, on thevery next day, General Early would be attacked on the Opequon, drivenfrom Winchester, and forced to retreat up the valley, in spite offighting which was never surpassed.

  I had received some rough handling in a cavalry combat near the OldChapel, beyond Millwood, and my ride back was tedious. But at last Ireached Richmond, and made preparations to set out at once for t
he army.On the evening before my departure, I went to visit the grave of Stuartat Hollywood, on the beautiful hill above the falls, west of the city.

  As I approached the lonely spot, where the great cavalier was lyingbeside his little Flora, of whom he had often spoken to me with tears, athousand memories knocked at the door of my heart. With head bent down,and chin resting on my breast, I drew near the grassy mound over whichwaved the autumn foliage, tinted with yellow and crimson--and in thesefew moments, all the splendid career of Stuart passed before me, as onthat day when I rode with him toward the fatal field of Yellow Tavern.

  I remembered all his hard combats, his glorious encounters, hisvictories over such odds as vindicated his claim to a descent from thedashing Rupert, and ranked him with the most famous leaders of cavalryin all history. I recalled the courage, the joy, the gay laughter of thegreat soldier--the blue eyes that flashed so--the sonorous voice singingthe merry songs. I remembered all the occasions when he had led his menin the charge--how he had wept for Jackson, bowed his head above thecold face of Pelham--how he had met the torrent unmoved, shrunk fromnothing in his path, fallen to save the Virginia capital, and diedmurmuring "God's will be done!"--I remembered all that, and withsomething in my throat that seemed choking me, drew near the quietmound, beneath which rested such a career, and so much glory.