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

by John Esten Cooke

  I had never seen Mohun so gloomy. He scarcely uttered a word during thewhole march back; and when I announced my intention to spend the nightat the house of Mr. Alibi, as the long tramp had wearied me out, hescarcely invited me to his head-quarters, and when I declined, did noturge me. Something evidently weighed heavily on the mind of Mohun, and afew moment's reflection explained the whole to me.

  He had conversed rapidly and apart with Nighthawk near the lonely house;and his gloom had dated from that conversation. Nighthawk had evidentlyexplained every thing: the cause of Swartz's imprisonment; hisstatement in reference to the paper--and now that Swartz was dead, thehiding-place of the document seemed forever undiscoverable.

  If the reader does not understand the terrible significance of thisfact, and Mohun's consequent gloom, I promise that he shall comprehendall before very long.

  Mohun returned to his camp, and I remained at the house of Mr. Alibiuntil morning, stretched on a lounge, and wrapped in my cape.

  I awoke about sunrise. As I opened my eyes, quick firing came from thedirection of Burgess's Mill. The fire speedily became more rapid andcontinuous; I hastened to mount my horse; and as I did so, a courierpassed at full gallop.

  "What news?" I asked.

  "The enemy are advancing in force! They have crossed!"

  "Where?"

  "Near Armstrong's!"

  And the courier disappeared, at full speed, in the woods. In a moment Ihad abandoned my design of inspecting, and was riding back.

  "Armstrong's" was a mill on the Rowanty, near the Boydton road. If theenemy had crossed there, in force, it was to make a heavy advance towardthe Southside road.

  I was not mistaken. Reaching the debouchment of the "Quaker road," Ifound the cavalry drawn up in order of battle--a dispatch had been sentto hurry up the rest--on the lower waters of the Rowanty, and GeneralHampton informed me of the situation of affairs.

  The enemy had advanced in heavy force at sunrise, driven in the pickets,and, crossing the Rowanty, seized on the Boydton road and the bridge atBurgess's Mill. From prisoners taken, it was ascertained that the forceconsisted of the Second, Fifth, and part of the Ninth Corps; Grant,Meade, and Hancock, accompanying the troops in person.

  That left nothing in doubt. If any remained, it was dispelled by thefact, stated to me by General Hampton, that the Federal troops "hadeight days' rations, and were certainly bound for the Southsideroad."[1]

  [Footnote 1: His words.]

  I had scarcely received this intelligence from General Hampton, when aheavy attack was made upon General William H.F. Lee, holding the Quakerroad.

  From that moment the battle began to rage with determined fury, andthe entire force of cavalry was engaged in an obstinate fight with theadvancing enemy. It was a bitter and savage affair. The men charged;dismounted and fought behind impromptu breastworks of rails; fell backonly when they were pushed by the weight of the great column rollingforward; and for hours the whole field was a hurly-burly of dust, smoke,blood, uproar, carbine shots, musket shots, and the long threateningroar of cannon.

  The Stuart horse artillery fought like tigers. The men stuck to theirguns amid a storm of bullets, and vindicated, as they had done beforeon many fields, the name of "my pets," given them by Stuart! Among theofficers, Will Davenant was seen, sitting his horse amid the smoke, ascalm as a May morning; and I shall never forget the smile on the face ofthis young bull-dog, when he said:--

  "I think we can hold our ground, colonel."

  And looking over his shoulder, in the direction of Five Forks, hemurmured:--

  "This is a good place to die, too."

  A thundering cheer rose suddenly above the roar of the guns, and theline of dismounted sharp-shooters behind their rail breastworks opened amore steady and resolute fire as the enemy appeared to pause.

  At the same moment young Preston Hampton, a son of the general, and oneof my favorites, from his courage and courtesy, passed by at a gallop,cheering and encouraging the skirmishers.

  I spurred after him. Just as I reached him, I saw the arm waving abovehis head suddenly drop; his sword escaped from his grasp, and he fellfrom the saddle to the ground.

  In an instant I had dismounted, and with other officers who hastened up,had raised him from the earth.

  As we did so, the group, consisting now of no less than seven, attractedthe enemy's attention; a hot fire was opened on us, and before we couldbear the dying youth in our arms beyond the reach of the fire, four outof the seven officers were shot.[1]

  [Footnote 1: Fact]

  The boy was placed in an ambulance, and borne to the rear; but the woundwas fatal, and he soon afterward expired. A staff officer afterwardinformed me that General Hampton did not leave his tent for afortnight--scarcely replying when he was spoken to, and prostrated bygrief.

  I could understand that. The death of the brave youth sent a pang to myown heart--and he was only my friend. The great heart of the father musthave been nearly broken.

  So fell Preston Hampton. Peace to his ashes! No kinder or braver spiritever died for his country!

  XXXIV.

  I AM CAPTURED.

  Hour after hour the battle continued to rage; the enemy making resoluteattempts to brush off the cavalry.

  It was now discovered that Hancock's corps had crossed the Rowanty,supported by Crawford's division, with two corps behind; and as GeneralHancock held the bridge at Burgess's, there seemed little probabilitythat Lee could cross a force to attack him.

  But this was done. While the cavalry fought the blue masses withobstinate courage on the Boydton road, Mahone, that daring soldier,crossed a column of three brigades over the Rowanty, below Burgess's;and suddenly the enemy found themselves attacked in flank and rear.Mahone did not pause. He advanced straight to the assault; swept everything before him, and thrusting his small force in between Hancockand Crawford, tore from the former four hundred prisoners, threebattle-flags, and six pieces of artillery.

  The assault had been sudden and almost overwhelming. While hotly engagedwith Hampton in front, the enemy had all at once staggered beneath theheavy blow dealt on their flank and rear. They turned to strike at thisnew foe; and the shock which followed was rude, the onset bloody.

  Mahone met it with that dash and stubbornness now proverbial in thearmy; and, hurling his three brigades against the advancing column,broke through three lines of battle, and drove them back.[1]

  [Footnote 1: "In the attack subsequently made by the enemy, GeneralMahone broke three lines of battle."--General Lee's Dispatch of October28, 1864.]

  Night was near, and the fighting still continued. The enemy seemed bothto give up the ground; and were holding their position obstinately, whena determined charge from a brigade of Mahone's drove every thing in itsfront.

  I had been to carry a message for General Hampton, upon whose staffI served during the battle, and now found myself swept forward by thebrigade charging.

  In front of them, I recognized General Davenant, on horseback, and swordin hand, leading the charge. His son Charley was beside him.

  "We are driving them, colonel!" exclaimed the general, with a proudsmile "and look! yonder are some of their general officers flying fromthat house!"

  As he spoke, he pointed to three horsemen, riding at full speed froma house known as Burgess's; their splendid suit of staff officersindicated that they were of high rank.

  In fact, the three horsemen who retired thus hastily, would have proveda rich prize to us. They were Generals Grant, Meade and Hancock.[1]

  [Footnote 1: Fact.]

  They made a narrow escape, and the question suggests itself, "What wouldhave been the result of their capture?" I know not; I only know thatGrant, Meade and Hancock, came near having an interview with General Leethat night--a peaceful and friendly talk at his head-quarters.

  I did not think of all this then. The hot charge dragged me. I had cometo participate in it by the mere chance of battle--but this apparentaccident was destined to have very singular results.r />
  I had ridden with General Davenant, as his brigade swept forward, and wewere breasting a heavy fire on his front, when a sudden cry of "Cavalry!look out!" came from our left.

  General Davenant wheeled his horse; went at full speed, accompanied byhis son and myself, through the bullets, in the direction indicated;and carried onward by his animal, as I was by my own, rode right into acolumn of blue cavalry, advancing to attack our flank.

  Such was the "chance of battle!" At one moment General Davenant was incommand of a brigade which was driving the enemy, and sweeping everything before it. At the next moment he had been carried by the powerfulanimal which he bestrode straight into the ranks of the Federal cavalry,hidden by the woods and approaching darkness--had been surrounded inan instant, fired upon, and half dragged from his saddle, and captured,together with his son Charley.

  What was still more unfortunate to me, personally, was the fact thathaving followed the old soldier, I was surrounded, and made a prisonerin the same manner.

  XXXV.

  FACE TO FACE.

  We had scarcely time to realize the truly disgusting fact, that we werecaptured at the very instant that the enemy were being driven, when thecharge of the Federal cavalry was met by a hail-storm of bullets whichdrove them back in disorder.

  For some moments the woods presented a singular spectacle. Horsemenflying in wild confusion; riderless animals darting madly toward therear; the groans of wounded men tottering in the saddle as they rushedby--all this made up a wild scene of excitement, and confusion worseconfounded.

  General Davenant, his son, and myself had been ordered to the rear,under escort; and the old cavalier had turned his horse's head in thatdirection, boiling with rage at his capture, when the repulse ensued,and the Federal cavalry streamed by us toward the rear.

  All at once a loud voice was heard shouting in the half darkness:--

  "Halt! halt! you cursed cowards! Halt! and form column!"

  The speaker rushed toward us as he spoke, mounted upon a huge blackhorse, and I heard the noise made by his sabre, as with the flat of it,he struck blows upon the brawny shoulders of the fugitives.

  At his summons, and the blows of his sabre, the men halted, and againfell into column. Under the shadowy boughs of the woods, and in thegathering darkness, the long line of horsemen resembled phantoms ratherthan men. Near them glimmered some bivouac fires; and the flickeringlight illumined their persons, gleamed on their scabbards, and lit upthe rough bearded faces.

  "Cowardly scoundrels!" exclaimed their leader, in fierce accents, "whereare the prisoners that ran into us?"

  "Here, colonel. One is a general!" said a man.

  "Let me see them!"

  General Davenant struck the spur violently into his horse, and rodeclose to the Federal officer, in whom I had recognized Colonel Darke.

  "Here I am, wretch!--look at me!" exclaimed General Davenant, foamingwith rage. "Accursed be the day when I begat a murderer and a renegade!"

  XXXVI.

  THE CURSE.

  Darke's hand unconsciously drew the rein, and man and horse both seemedto stagger back before the furious old soldier.

  "General--Davenant!" muttered Darke, turning pale.

  "Yes, General Davenant!--a gentleman, an honest man; not a traitor and amurderer!"

  "Good God!" muttered Darke, "it is my father, truly--and my littlebrother! The proud face, the eyes, the mouth--and yet they told me youwere killed."

  "Ah! 'Killed!' Killing is a favorite topic with you!" exclaimed GeneralDavenant, furiously; "well, kill _me_, now!--Strike your dastardlysword, or _your knife_ if you have one, straight into my breast! Murderme, I say, as you murdered George Conway!--I have a purse in my pocket,and you can rob me when I am dead. Strike! strike!--but not with thesword! That is the weapon of a gentleman. Draw your knife, and stab mein the back--the knife is the weapon of the assassin!"

  And crossing his arms upon his breast, the fiery old cavalier confrontedhis son, with eyes full of bitter wrath and disdain--eyes which I shallnever forget; for their fire burnt them into my memory.

  Darke did not dare to meet them. I had listened with amazement to thosewords, which indicated that the Federal officer was General Davenant'sson; then this sentiment of astonishment, profound as it was, hadyielded to one of expectation, if I may so express myself. What Iexpected was a furious outbreak from the man of fierce and violentpassions, thus taunted and driven to bay by the repeated insults of thegeneral. No outburst came, however. On the contrary, the Federal officerbowed his head, and listened in silence, while a mortal pallor diffuseditself over his swarthy face. His gaze was bent upon the ground, and hisbrows so closely knit that they extended in an unbroken ridge of blackand shaggy hair above his bloodshot eyes. He sat his horse, in thelight of the camp-fire,--a huge cavalier upon an animal as powerful andforbidding in appearance as himself,--and for more than a minute afterthe scornful outburst from General Davenant, Darke remained silent andmotionless, with his eyes still fixed upon the ground:

  Then he raised his head, made a sign with his hand to an officer, andsaid, briefly:--

  "Move back with the column--leave these prisoners here."

  At the word, the column moved back slowly; the shadowy figures were lostsight of in the darkness; General Davenant, his son Charles, Darke, andmyself, were left alone beside the camp-fire.

  Then the Federal officer, with a face over which seemed to pass "theshadow of unutterable things," looked first with a long, wistful,absorbed glance toward the boy Charles, his brother--lastly, toward hisfather.

  "Why do you taunt me?" he said, in a low tone. "Will that result inany good now? Yes, I committed murder. I intended, if I did not commit,robbery. I killed--yes, I killed!--with a knife--as a murderer kills.But I do not wish to kill you--or Charley--or this officer--or rob you.Keep your life and your money. There is the road before you, open. Go;you are free!"

  General Davenant had sat his horse--the boy Charley besidehim--listening in sullen wrath. As Darke ended, the general's handwent to the hilt of his sword, and he half drew it, by an instinctivemovement, from the scabbard. "Well!" added the Federal officer, in thesame low tone, with a deeper flush in his cheeks, "draw your sword,sir--strike me if you think proper. For myself, I am done with murder,and shrink from it, so that, if my father wishes to kill me, I will openmy breast, to give him a fair opportunity. You see I am not altogetherthe murderous wretch you take me for. I am a murderer, it is true, andsoiled with every vice--you see I am frank--but I will not resist, ifyou plunge your sword into my heart. Strike! strike! While I am dying Iwill have time to say the few words I have to say to you!"

  General Davenant shuddered with wrath still, but a strange emotion wasmingled with the sentiment now--an emotion which I could not fathom.Before he could open his lips, however, Darke resumed, in the sametone:--

  "You hesitate--you are not ready to become my executioner. Well, listen,and I will utter that which may deprive you of all self-control. Yes,once more, I killed a man, and killed him for money; but _you_ made mewhat I was! You petted, and spoiled, and made me selfish. In addition,you hated--that man. You had hated him for twenty years. When I grew up,I found out that. If you did not strike him, you had the desire to doso--and, like a good son, I shared my 'father's loves and hatreds.' Iheard you speak of--him--harshly; I knew that an old grudge was betweenyou; what matter if I met this enemy of the family on the high-road,and, with the dagger at his throat, said: 'Yield me a portion of yourill-gotten gains!' for that money was the proceeds of a forced sale forcash, by which the father of a family was turned out of house and home!Well, I did that--and did it under the effect of drink. I learnedthe habit at _your_ table; wine was placed in my hands, in my verychildhood, by you; you indulged all my vile selfishness; made me amiserable, arrogant wretch; I came to hang about the village tavern, andgamble, and fuddle myself, until I was made worthless! Then, whenone day the devil tempted me, I committed a crime--and that crime wascommitted by _you_! for _you_ cultivated in
me the vile habits which ledme on to murder!"

  Darke's eyes were gloomy, and full of a strange fire. As he uttered thelast words, he spurred close to his father, tore open his uniform untilhis bare breast was visible, and added in accents full of vehement andsullen passion:--

  "Strike me! Bury your sword's point in my heart! I am your son. You areas noble a gentleman as Brutus was! Kill me, then! I am a murderer: butI am a Davenant, and no coward!"

  From the fierce and swollen face, in which the dark eyes burned likefirebrands, my glance passed to the countenance of General Davenant. Astartling change had taken place in the expression of the old cavalier.He was no longer erect, fiery, defiant. His glance no longer dartedscorn and anger. His chin had fallen upon his breast; his frame drooped;his cheeks, but now so flushed, were covered with a deep pallor.

  For a moment he remained silent. The hand which had clutched at thesword hilt hung listless at his side. All at once his breast heaved, andwith a sound which resembled a groan, he said, in low tones:--

  "I am punished! Yes, my hatred has brought forth fruit, and the fruitis bitter! It was I who warped this life, and the tree has grown as Iinclined it."

  "Yes," said Darke, in his deep voice, "first warped--then, when cutdown, cast off and forgotten!"

  General Davenant looked at the speaker with bitter melancholy.

  "Ah! you charge me with that, do you, sir?" he said, "You do notremember, then, that I have suffered for you--you do not know, perhaps,that for ten years I have labored under the imputation of that crime,and have preserved silence that I might shield your memory--for Ithought you dead! You do not know that I never breathed a syllable ofthat letter which you sent to me on the day of my trial--that I haveallowed the world to believe I was saved by a legal technicality! Youhave not heard, perhaps, that a daughter of Judge Conway is beloved byyour brother, and that her father rejects with scorn the very idea offorming an alliance with _my_ son--the son of one whom he regards asthe murderer of his brother! Oh! yes, sir! truly I have cast off andforgotten you and your memory! I have not wept tears of blood overthe crime you committed--over the dishonor that rested on the name ofDavenant! I have not writhed beneath the cold and scornful eye of JudgeConway and his friends! I have not seen your brother's heart breakingfor love of that girl; and suppressed all, concealed every thing,borne the brand on my proud forehead, and _his_ young life, that _your_tombstone might at least not have 'murderer' cut on it! And now youtaunt me with my faults!--with my injudicious course toward you whenyour character was forming. You sneer and say that I first hated GeorgeConway, and that the son only inherited the family feud, and struck theenemy of the family! Yes, I acknowledge those sins; I pray daily tobe forgiven for them. I have borne for ten years this bitter load ofdishonor. But there is something more maddening even than my faults,and the stain on my name--it is to be taunted to my face, here, with thecharge that I struck that blow! that I made you the criminal, and thenthrew you off, and drove you to become a renegade in the ranks of ourenemies!"