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By Allan Pink' rton Estelle. By Mrs. Annie Edwardes. July. Husbands and Homes. By Marion Harland The Model Town and the Detectives. By AD in Pinl A Vagabond Heroine. By Mrs. Annie Edwardes. Aug. A Woman's Web. By C. V. Maitland. Strikers and Communists. By Alk'n Pinkerton. A Blue Stocking. By Mrs. Annie Edwardes. Sept. Pride and Passion. By May Agnes Fleming. Mississippi Outlaws. By Allan Pinkerton. Oct. Terrace Roses. By Celia E. Garrner. Bucholz and the Detectives. By Allan Pinkerton. Nov. Virginia Randall. By Richard B. Kimball. The Burglar's Fate. By Allan Pinkerton. Dec. Zahara. By M. T. Walworth. Professional Thieves. By Allan Pii erton. These books will all be bound in - new ar d beautiful lith cover and will be the largest 25 c ..t bool- a r the world. UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 00008781605 ILT TO HILT From the MSS. of Colonel Surrey of Eagle's Nest, BY JOHN ESTEN COOKE, AUTHOR OF FAIRFAX," " SURREY OF EAGLE'S NEST," ETC. NEW YORK: COPYRIGHT, 1890, BY . W. Dillingham, Publisher, Successor to G. W. Carleton & Co. MDCCCXC. r Fpt«red according to Act of Congress, in the year 18fl*, bp tiEO. W. CAllLETON, Clara e Office of the District Court of the Uniu i States fo the District of New lork CONTENTS. Prologue .. ., #> „ a- I'— In "Mosby's Confederacy" fr 11 IL— The Night-Hawks v III. — Landon .. .. , c • <# ## 2 l IV. — Knocked from the Saddle 25 V.— Captain Blount . ..31 VI — How they Managed Matter* on the Border In 196* .. 34 VII.— An Bye for an Eye , •„ ..36 VIII — The Night March , , , 41 IX. — The Old Chapel M X. — Why I did not Return with Landon .. 53 XI. — How I Missed my Supper «• # „ ..65 XII.— Captain Ratcliffe .. -# 70 XIII. — A Moonlight Ride c ~ 77 XIV. — Arden's Secret 81 XV.— Arden Dismounts Me . -# „ go XVI — One! Two! Three! Fonr! 93 XVII — Winchester 100 XVIII — Early and some Braves of the Valley Army .. ..107 XIX — Fitzhugh Lee, the Gay and Gallant 112 XX. -The Torch w XXI. — "Before to-morrow you will be dead— or I will!" .. 122 XXII. — Lieutenant Arden, U.S.A. 126 XXIII.— Bizarre . .. #t ## ^ M #< #j ^ XXTV.-Lover'a Leap ^ XXV.— Poison l4ff * ; 773238 T g>/. VI CONTEXTS. r*ea XXVI.— Nameless 15s XXVII. —"A Trump f » . ..ley XXVIII— One of the Bright Spots In my Memory .170 XXIX.— Blount's Secret 176 XXX. —Touch-and-go 183 XXXI.— The Deserter , 190 XXXII.— Antoinette Duvaray .. . 195 XXXIII. — The King .. .. . 203 XXXIV. — The Offer and Refusal ,. ~ 209 XXXV.— In the "Fox-Spring Woods » 214 XXXVI.— War in the Valley of the Shenandoah In 1861 ..221 XXXVII — No Quarter 225 XXXVIII.— "Partisan Rancour" .. , 228 XXXIX.— The Last Knot in the String 231 XL.— Across a Grave „. .. .. .. 238 XLI.— Arden's Badges .. 243 XLII.— "Coward! Coward! Coward I w „ ,. .. 246 XLIII. — Nemesis 251 Epilooub: I.— The Blue Courier .. .,259 II.— My Last Look at the Red-Cross Flag •• ..263 HL— In Arms to the Last 9S/ PROLOGUE, Colonel Surry to the Reader. I perform a bold exploit to-day, my dear reader. The exploit in question is sending Hilt to Hili to the press. It is a long time now since 1866, and, if you have read, you have probably forgotten the volume en- titled Surry of Eagle's Nest. Alas ! authors must expect to be lost sight of as the years flow on. I am not so vain as to imag- ine you remember my memoirs ; and, for a stronger reason still, you must nave forgotten their reception by my critical friends of New England. They were flayed by those fierce foemen. I recall the cere- mony with a nervous shiver Those terrible literary Camanches brandished the tomahawk, uttered the war-whoop, and performed a dance of fearful triumph around the prostrate and bleeding victim. 7 a PBOLOGUE. The unfortunate memoirs of Colonel Surry were "highly-seasoned . . . duels and murderous settlements of deadly feuds kept up the excite- ment y . . . the author need not fear that his portrait of Stuart would "bore any one fifty years hence," as nobody at that remote period would know of the book's existence . . . parts were "cribbed from Dickens" . , "it might find a good market with the ' New York Ledger.' " . . the style was "so executively florid, that but for the perpetual flow of incident it would be intolerable!" . . . and "tb« literary execu- tion was in that exaggerated style in which the Southern writers so often indulge ! " All this, and more, descended on the unfortunate Colonel Surry. Well, that bon mot about "fifty years hence" made me laugh. The phrases " excessively florid " and "exaggerated style" made me reflect. |j Was I then so very florid and exaggerated, as my friends declared? I had supposed the MS. of Surry of Eagle's Nest to have been composed in a most compact, terse, and altogether faultless style ; — and here was a great critic, and a critic in Boston, PROLOGUE 9 which was worse still, declaring that I was florid and exaggerated ! What to do ? Alas ! Surry of Eagle's Nest was printed. The poor youth had made his entrance into the bustling world, and the mischief was done. I could only resolve that, in future, I would never be florid or exaggerated any more — that I would avoid the errours of the past : another flaying, like that received from the Pilgrim sons of New Eng- land, would, I felt, put an end to my career. In the present episode of my memoirs, therefore, good reader, which I call Hilt to Hilt, I tell a plain and unadorned story. I hope the style is not florid ; I know the events, strange as they appear, are not exaggerated. It is almost impossible, in- deed, to exaggerate the wild romance of that Parti- san life of 1864. I have lived in the midst of it; seen it with my eyes ; known and spoken with the actors in it; and yet I assure you that I find it difficult to realize that the whole was not a dream. Let me repeat that whatever seems strangest in this book is substantially, when not literally, true. There were one or two additional incidents which I 10 PROLOGUE. designed to relate. I have not related them, i felt that the reader would call me a " sensation-writer." Here, then, worthy reader, I present yon with a brief and fierce episode in the strange life of the Virginia border, in the autumn of 1864. Some of the men who figured in these scenes are dead. Others still live, and will tell you that J exaggerate pothing. Cubby or Eagle's Nest. HILT TO HILT. L IN "mosby's confederacy." In the first days of autumn, 1864, I left Peters- burg, where Lee confronted Grant, to go on a toui of duty to the Shenandoah Valley, wherG Early con- fronted Sheridan. This journey was made on horseback, and I en- countered upon the way sc>>ie curious incidents and remarkable personages. Incidents and personages suited the epoch ; for, strangest of the strange, was that autumn of 1864 ! Do you remember it reader ? For ray part, I shall never forget it. On all sides, doubt, anxiety, suffer- ing, — a sombre defiance mingled with despair. From every quarter, — • North, South, East, and West, — the clash of arms ; by day and by night, on the four winds, the roar of cannon ; in the trenches by the Appomattox, the incessant rattle of skirmishers; in the fields and forests of the border, the crack of pistols and carbines. The war mortal, — breast ta 12 iy "M08BT8 CONFEDERACY." breast, hilt to hilt. The country desolate: the fields untilled ; the women in black, weeping for dead hus- bands; the children in rags, calling for dead fathers! In that lugubrious autumn of the dark year '64. the Southern Enceladus was prostrate, and vainly writhed beneath the mountains piled upon him. Lee's keen and trenchant rapier was worn to the hilt nearly; and the red flag, so long borne aloft on its point, was about to fall, and be dragged in the dust of defeat; but never, Heaven be thanked, in the mire of dishonour ! It was at this tragic epoch that I set out on my horseback journey through Virginia. Crossing the Rapidan at Raccoon Ford, above Chancellors ville, and the Rapp^-bannock near the little village of Orleans, I pushed on through Fauquier, gazing with curious interest on the deserted country around me. It was a very different region from the lowland which I had just left, and war was evidently carried on here in a very different fashion. At Petersburg, two great armies faced each other behind breast-works, ■ — sullen, watchful, resembling lions about to spring; and these liona were fed by railroads and long trains of wagons, going and coming from every quarter. Here, in Fauquier, at the foot of the mountains, there were no armies, no railroads, no wagons, and, it seemed, no troops of any description whatever. "Mosby'g IN "MOSBTS confederacy:' 13 Confederacy," as the people called the region, was apparently uninhabited. I went on, mile after mile, without encountering a human being. The roads were deserted. Stray cattle wandered wild on the elopes of the great hills. The partridge, long un- molested, and free from all apprehension, perched on the fence beside me as I passed along, perfectly tranquil, within a few feet of my pistol's muzzle. This physiognomy of the landscape, however, did not deceive me. I knew very well that it was only the chance of travel which enabled me thus to pass unchallenged ; for this country which I was trav- ersing — like the banks of the Shenandoah — was notoriously a "Debatable Land," — the home of the scout and the ranger. On these deserted roads took place those incessant combats of Mosby and his men with the Federal cavalry. These forests were the scenes of those ambuscades, surprises, sudden collisions, in which sabres clashed, pistols and car- bines rang, and yells rose, mingling with the din of hoofs, as the blue and gray rangers came together. Not a week passed here but the autumn leaves were dyed still redder with the blood of human beings. Such were the scenes and figures which peopled my imagination as I rode on through the forests of Fauquier. Under the tranquil beauty there was something sombre and menacing. I had heard, of this land, a hundred bloody histories, — the strangest I 14 22V "MOSBY'S CONFEDERACY. 91 tales of private feuds and secret vengeances. Here ; on the war-harried Virginia border, men had ap- peared mysteriously, coming, none knew whence; had joined the Partisans under names which were clearly assumed; had fought with deadly rancour; fallen unnoted, and disappeared as the autumn leaf flits away on the wind, swallowed up with their mystery in oblivion. Men hated each other bitterly everywhere, in 1864 ; but north of the Rappahan- nock, and along the banks of the Shenandoah, there seemed to be something terrible and bloody in the very atmosphere, which inflamed the heart, and drove to mad excesses all who breathed it. Such was the Border during the last months of the war ; and it is a page from the unpublished his- tory of this strange " place and time — the banks of the Shenandoah between Winchester and the Blue Ridge, in 1864 — that I beg leave to lay before the reader. After a day and night at " The Oaks," the resi- dence of my friend, Colonel Beverley, near Mark- ham, I resumed my journey; and, followiog the mountain road through a gorge of the Blue Ridge, reached about sunset the small village of Paris. Paris lies, like a hawk's nest, in that gash of the mountain called Ashby's Gap. At that time it might have been compared with more fitness to a sentinel posted to watch the gorge and give the IN "MOSBY'S GONFEDEBA OY." 15 alarm on the approach of an enemy. That tnemy frequently made his appearance. Sheiidan lay on the Opequon, watching his daring opponent, Early ; and scouting parties of Federal cavalry passed and repassed, almost daily, through the gap, on the look- out for Confederates. Like the whole country, Paris appeared poverty-stricken and melancholy. The houses were nearly deserted; the fences had been pulled down ; the sign-board of the old tavern was hanging by one corner ; the tavern itself was dis- mantled; grass grew in the streets of the hamlet, and scarce a cur yelped. There is a picture "in little " of a Virginia village in 1864. In front of the rickety tavern some horses were standing bridled and saddled. On the low fence were sitting several officers and men in gray. Among these I recognized Colonel F , of Gen- eral Longstreet's staff, who got down and came to meet me. We exchanged a cordial greeting. I gave him the news from Petersburg, and then asked him in turn for intelligence from the Valley. "Nothing," was his reply. "Early is still at Winchester, and Sheridan on the Opequon, — afraid to attack." " How is the country around Millwood, on the other side of the gap?" " Full of Yankees, with a heavy picket at Berry's Ferry." 16 IN "MOSBY'S CONFEDERACY." This was discouraging, as I wished to go on to the house of a friend near White Post, that evening. To retrace my steps, and entor the Valley by Manas- sas Gap, seemed absurd. " I think I'll try and get over somewhere, 1 I said " Get over — to-night ?" exclaimed the colonel. "Yes." "You'll certainly be captured." "I will risk it." " Well, good luck to you, my dear fellow. Shake hands : I always like to take affectionate leave of a friend who is about to ' go up.' " We exchanged a grasp of the hand amid general laughter from the crowd, and my friend went back to his perch on the fence. I turned my horse's head up the mountain. I had not gone twenty steps when I heard the colonel call after me. " I say, Surry ! " I turned my head. "Give my love to any friends of mine you meet in Washington 1 " * It was with this most cheerful of " last greetings " still ringing in my ears that I went on up th« mountain. • His word*. 11 THis NIGHT-HAWKS. owxy ascending the steep road, I reacnea tne M Big Poplar," a well-known tree on the summit of the mountain, just as the last rays of sunset were bathing in red and orange the autumn foliage. From the direction of Winchester came the dull mutter of cannon, and an occasional carbine shot was heard in front from the picket at the ford. All this was in disagreeable contrast with the tranquil beauty of the landscape. The sides of the Gap burned with the first fiery tints of autumn. The blue mountains, melting into haze, rolled far away southward, like gigantic billows. Through the gorge, flushed with sunset, lay the beautiful, the enchanting, the wonderfal Valley of the Shenandoah. It seemed a sacrilege to desecrate this fairy region, — to trample these sweet fields beneath the iron heel of war. But the heel was upon them. The land was a waste. Every pass was guarded. Not even the solitary and inoffensive Surry could get across the mountain to his friends, without imminert dan- ger of capture. 2 * 17 18 the mam hawks. I had determined, however, to attempt it. By flanking the picket in fro^t, and crossing at tbs private and unused ford, called " The Island," below, I hoped to make my way unperceived to the house of the friend referred to, who lived beyond Millwood. To the execution of this scheme I now proceeded. Night was rapidly descending, and, by the time I reached the Mount-Carmel road, branching off to my right, it was dark. I had scarcely gone two hundred yards on the narrow mountain road, half concealed beneath ever- greens and overhanging rocks, when all at once a 3hadow seemed to rise from the earth in front of me. I heard the click of a trigger, and a voice said : — "Halt! Who goes there?" " Friend," I replied, cocking my pistol under my cape. " What command? " said the voice. "Army of Northern Virginia. What do you belong to?" "The Night-Hawks," was the reply of the shadow. A brief silence followed. " Good ! " I said, at length. " I never heard of the Night-Hawks, but I know you are a Virginian from your voice, and from your post on this road. I am going to cross at the Island." "I will ride with you " said the horseman. THE NIGHT-HAWKS. 19 I assented to this at once, and we rodfi on in the darkness side by side, in silence. Descending the rugged declivity, we reached tho banks of the river, overhung by the white arms of immense sycamores, plunged into the water, and, half fording, half swimming, reached the Island, and then the western bank. Crossing a small field we entered a forest which seemed uninhabited, except by the owls, whose weird laughter was heard in the thicket, or the whippoor- wills, crying plaintively from the interwoven festoons between the great sycamores. We had scarcely gone fifty steps in the wood, however, when a second shadow rose in the path ; challenged, was responded to in a low voice by my companion: and we con- tinued our way. I have been on dark marches. Once with Gen- eral Stuart, near Chantilly, in 1862, we rode on through a night so murky that our horses resembled black phantoms breasting a sea of ink. But that ride through the woods of the Shenandoah surpassed all. All at once, however, a weird light filtrated through the boughs, and I glanced over my shoulder. The moon had just soared above the pine-clad sum- mit of the Blue Ridge, like a great shield bathed iit blood. 20 THE N1GHT-HAWR8. Then the wood opened before us, and a small glade revealed itself, completely walled in with thickets. Suddenly I saw the gleam of a red Confederate battle-flag; and in the glade twenty or thirty horses stood fully equipped. Beside them lay their riders, — every man holding his bridle, and ready to mourn* at a moment's noiie©. ox Erect, in the centre of the wild and picturesque group, stood a man, leaning one heavily gauntleted hand on the pommel of his saddle, the other on the hilt of a light sabre. He was apparently about twenty five or six ; and his plain gray coat, buttoned from top to bottom, defined a figure, straight, supple, and vigourous. Around his waist he wore a red sash ; his boots reached above the knee ; over his forehead drooped a brown hat, with the black cavalry feather. The face, which the moonlight clearly revealed, was a striking one. In the penetrating eyes, and the lips, half covered with a shaggy moustache, could be read something cool, resolute, and u thoruigb-bred." Never was will written plainer on human countenance. This man evidently belonged to that class who think, de- cide, and act for themselves, preserving through all an invincible coolness. In the face, for the rest, there was something hard and impassive. One glance at him convinced me that he had passed through soms terrible ordeal, and had come out, steel. 22 LAN DON. I was sure that I had seen him somewhere ; but was completely at a loss to determine where or when, I approached with my companion. " Who is that ? ' ; he said, in the brief tone of command. He glanced at me keenly. Then all at once, be- fore my friend of the Mount-Carmel xoad could re- ply, the Partisan added coolly ; — "lam glad to see you, Colonel Surry ! " With which words he advanced a step, made me the bow of a nobleman, and, drawing off his yellow gauntlet, offered me his hand. " Ah ! you know me, captain! " I said, taking the hand, which was white and slender, but had the grip of a vice. " Perfectly, colonel; I have had the pleasure of seeing you in the army." Suddenly I remembered. " And I have seen you, captain. It was near Ma- nassas last October, when the cavalry followed Meade after Bristoe. We came to a barricade near Yates' ford ; the leading squadron wavered before the vol- leys of the sharpshooters; you took the front, charged over the felled trees, and drove the enemy. General Stuart paid you a magnificent compliment on that occasion, and never was on e beHer deserved, — Captain St. Leger ! " / LAND ON. 23 The partisan gave me one of his penetrating glances. " My name is Landon, colonel," he said, with per- fect calmness. I looked at him with undisguised astonishment. "And yet I could swear it was you that made that charge ! Is it possible that two human beings can resemble each other so strangely? " For a moment he made no reply. He was evidently hesitating. " You were not that officer? " I said. " Well, yes, colonel, the officer in question was myself, and at tha+ time I was called St. Leger. I have since resumed my real name, or rather the full name of which the former was a portion." " Your real name? " " St. Leger Landon, at your service," returned the Partisan, coolly, and making me a bow. Before I could reply, our colloquy was brought suddenly to an end. " All right, captain ! " said a low voice, behind the Partisan. And a boy of about sixteen, mild, fair-haired, and gentle in appearance, advanced noiselessly into the area. ''Touch-and-go!" said the paitisan, "well, hon many ?" " Seventy or eighty, captain." ] 24 LAND ON. * k That is three horses apiece for the command Lieutenant Arden." A young man of about twenty-two rose quickly liora among the prostrate figures, and approached, saluting. There was something gay and gallant in his sparkling eyes and smiling lips, but what chiefly impressed me was the singular sweetness and modesty of his bearing and expression. Landon introduced me to the young lieutenant ; gave him some rapid orders, and then turned to me. "I am going to attack the picket at the river, colonel, — will you look on ? " ' £ I will do better, captain, — take a hand, — if I am allowed to rank as a Night-Hawk, and keep the fresh horse I capture." ' £ You shall keep half a dozen if you choose, colo- nel." And Landon vaulted into the saddle with an ease which showed the perfect horseman, the thorough cavalier, who would stop at nothing. " Attention ! " Before the sound of his voice had died away, every man was in the saddle. " Unfurl the flag ! " The order was obeyed. Then, as silently as though they had been a party of phantoms, the little band began to move beneath the shadowy foliage toward the picket. IV. KNOCKED FROM THE SADDLE. The little band of Night-Hawks had gone about half a mile, when, through an opening in the forest, we caught a gleam from the moonlit river. On the bank, beneath some great sycamores, was a* dusky and confused group of men and horses. From this group rose a stifled hum. All at once, Touch-and-go laid his hand upon Landon's arm. " Hist ! captain," he whispered; u you are almost on the vidette." " Where is he?" " Just beyond that thicket." !i Can you capture him without noise ? " Touch-and-go made a silent movement with his head. "I will halt, then," said Landon. And with a gesture he halted the column. Touch-and-go had dismounted ; had gone forward stealthily on foot ; and not a s®und was heard. Five minutes passed thus ; then two figures 25 26 KNOCKED FROM THE SADDLE. emerged from the shadow : it was Touch-and-go with his prisoner. " Good ! " said Landon. " You don't make much noi3e." " I put my pistol to his head, and he surrendered without a word." Landon turned to the prisoner, a black-browed in- dividual in blue, and was about to speak, when one of the horses of the party uttered a shrill neigh. " Look out, captain," said Touch-and-go, in a low voice, " that will put them on their guard." " Right ! " exclaimed Landon, and, drawing his sa- bre, he struck the spur into his horse, and shouted , •< Charge ! " The column swept forward like a storm-wind, and fell with loud yells on the picket, which ran hastily to horse. It was too late. Landon' s men were in the midst of them, banging with the pistol and slash- ing with the sabre. It was a scene of the wildest confusion, and noth- ing was heard but shouts, groans, and yells. The officer commanding the Federal picket attempted vainly to rally his men. They fled wildly from the river, over the road to Millwood, with the Rangers pressing them at every step. That moonlight sur- prise and chase was singular. I will always remember it ; and nothing remains so distinctly in my mind as KNOCKED FBOM THE SADDLE. 27 the figure of Landon, as he rushed upon the track of the officer commanding the Federals. Landon had seemed to disdain all other opponents, and evidently sought this one alone. When the Federal officer followed his flying picket, the Partisan singled him out, drove his horse onward on the track of the fugitive, with bloody spurs ; and when within sight of Millwood, just above a mill, I saw him come up with his adversary. As the Partisan reached his side, the sabres gleamed in the moon, and a ringing clash followed. Landon had delivered the "right cut;" his weapon had encountered his opponent's guard ; the Parti - san's sabre was shivered. He dropped the stump, drew his pistol, and fired every barrel, with the muzzle resting almost on the Federal officer's breast. Every charge missed; the speed of the horses was so great that no human aim could be relied on. Suddenly a loud cheer was heard from the direc- tion of Millwood; a din of smiting hoofs mingled with it, and the long continuous splash of a column pass- ing through a little stream in front, indicated that a heavy reinforcement of Federal cavalry, alarmed by the firing, was pressing forward. They were not three hundred yards distant ; their drawn sabres flashed in the moonbeams. As well as I 28 KNOCKED FROM THE SADDLE. could make out, they numbered about two nundred men. Landon had just fired his last barrel, when the enemy came on at a headlong gallop. I saw a flash dart from the Partisan's eye ; his white teeth gnawed the under lip. Burying both rowels in the sides of his horse, he was, in an instant, beside the Federal officer of the picket, and, raising his pistol, struck him with the weapon over the head. The blow was enough to fell an ox. The officer dropped his rein, fell from the saddle, and, his foot hanging in the stirrup, was dragged onward by his flying animal, and disappeared. At the same instant, from the leading platoon of the Federal cavalry, came a shower of bullets. Lan- don coolly snapped his empty pistol in their faces, turned his horse, and, galloping down the declivity to the mill, drew up his men upon the slope just be- yond, to receive the Federal charge. It came and swept all before it. For a moment the air was full of pistol and carbine shots, clashing blades and resounding shouts. Then Landon' s men were driven with the sabre. With the enemy close upon their heels, banging and slashing, the Night- Hawks retreated rapidly past the debouchement of the Bethel road, toward the Shenandoah. This was the position of affairs, when, by one of those sudden incidents, which render Partisan com- KNOCKED FBOM THE SADDLE. 29 bats so exciting, the whole face of things was changed. Landon had been swept back more than half a mile ; had leaped the stone fence on the side of the turnpike, and was pouring a hot fire into the enemy's flank, as they charged by, when, suddenly, rapid firing, accompanied by loud shouts, was heard in the Federal rear. At that sound, the leading squadron paused, half undecided. Landon decided them. Leaping into the road with ten or fifteen men he made an obstinate charge, the Federals gave back, and, extending his arm, Landon uttered a shout of fierce triumph. I followed the direction of his finger. The crest at the mouth of the Bethel road was swarming with gray horsemen, at least a hundred, apparently, in number. They had fallen on the Federal rear; were now firing and cutting among them; and it was scarcely ten minutes before the entire force of blue horsemen was retreating, hotly pursued, through the village of Millwood, toward Berry ville. Never was work done better or more rapidly. The Federal horse were swept away as leaves are swept by the wind. The sudden surprise had completely " de- moralized " them, — a misfortune which will occur, under such circumstances, to all but the best troops • and the combat had become a mere fox-chase. My horse was killed under me as I was passing 30 KNOCKED FROM THE SADDLE. the mill in pursuit ; but I had onl j to mount one of tweuty which were running about riderless. Seizing a fine bay by the bridle, I threw myself into the saddle, and soon rejoined Landon, beyond Millwood. He had given up further pursuit, sent to recall his men, and was sitting his horse in the middle of the turnpike. '* The dead go fast," I heard him mutter, as I rode to his side. u l ponder if it was that wretcL, or his ghost? " Y. CAPTAIN BLOUNT. The officer who had come so opportunely to out assistance was Captain Blount, one of the mos1 daring Partisans of the war. I had met Captain Blount incidentally in 1863, and, as we slowly rode back now together toward Millwood, I looked with interest at a man of whom I had heard so much. He appeared to be between twenty-five and thirty ; his figure was graceful ; his seat in tho saddle per- fect ; his countenance full of unassuming courtesy, and the expression of his eyes soft, pensive, al- most sad. It was difficult to recognize in ^is mild and retiring personage, so cordial and gentle, the hero of a hundred desperate encounters. Of hia skill as a swordsman, I had, however, witnessed a striking evidence. In the pursuit through Millwood he had crossed swords with a Federal officer who was evidently an accomplished sabreicr ; fought hilt to hilt with him, in single combat, for nearly ten minutes ; and finally killed his adversary by driving his sabre, at tierce point, through him from breast n 32 CAPTAIN BLOUNT. to back. The officer had thown up his arms, reeled and fallen Blount continued the pursuit ; only his sabre was bloody. Returning now, after this hard work, nothing could be imagined more simple and unassuming than his bearing. But a spectacle which greeted us near the village made the mild eye flash The Federal troopers had picketed their horses to the fence around the grounds of the little church, nestling amid its green trees, laid waste the grounds, broken open the sacred edifice, and torn to pieces the organ. Blount looked at the broken door of the church, the torn-down pews, and the fragments of the organ scattered over the lawn. "These are Scythians, indeed!" he muttered, quoting the words of Napoleon ; " there is nothing to do but to hunt down and kill every mam of them." " A maxim which you religiously carry out, Blount," said Landon ; " but how did you hap- pen to arrive in such goxl time to-night?" " By accident, my dear Landon. I was going on a scout along the Opequon, when I heard the firing, and thought it was you. I am glad I was near; and, as the affair is over now, I believe I will go on." Having uttered these words in his mild and cotu> CAPTAIN BLOUNT. 33 teous v>ice. Captain Blount offered me his hand, gave me a cordial invitation to visit him when it was convenient, and, after exchanging a pressure of the hand with 'Landon, moved off with his squadron of about seventy-five men toward the Opeqaon. I was still looking after the retreating shadows, when one of the Partisans rode up, leading a mag- nificent bay. "Here is the Yankee officer's horse, captain, — the one you knocked out of the saddle," he said. Landon glanced at the animal. " They must have carried off the captain, but he has left his horse and his papers," said the man. "His papers?" said Landon, quickly. The man pointed to the saddle-pockets, and drew forth a bundle of official documents. Landon rapidly tore them open, and glanced at them by the light of the moon. His face was lost in the shadow, and I did not see its expression. "Then it was not his ghost," muttered the Par- tisan ; " and he is not dead, after all ! " 8 VI. hOW IRBt MANAGED MATTERS ON THE BORDE8 IN 1864. London had turned his horse to ride down the hill, in the direction of the village, when one of hia men came up rapidly, and. drawing rein at his side, spoke to him in a low vok#. I did not catch the wot is, but the blood rushed suddenly to Landon's cht^k. " Where ? " he s^id, abruptly. "In the flat beyond the stream, captain." Without a word Landon darted at full gallop down the hill, passed through Millwood, and, as I reached his side in the field beyond, I saw him check bis horse suddenly near an oak, which stood, solitary and alone, in the open ground. From the boughs of this oak were hanging three corpses. " Look, captain," said the man who had kept be- side him; "it is Robinson, Walters, and Andrews, — three of our best man." Land$2i spurred his horse up until the animal shied violently at thi» near approach to the fearful 34 MATTEBS ON THE BOBBER IN 1864. 35 looking objects. The three men were clad in gray, and their ghastly faces were convulsed by the last agony. Suddenly Landon forced his horse close to the trunk, and tore down a paper which was attached to it. On this paper was written, in heavy black let- ters : — " Such is the fate of the Night- Hawks. " By command of "Capt. Katcliffe." Landon read these words by the light of the moon, looked up at the corpses, folded up the pa- per slowly, and, turning to the man beside him, said : — " Order my command to assemble here, and bring the prisoners taken from the picket at the river." I had reached his side as he uttered these words, and he held out to me the paper which he had taken from the tree-trunk. (J It is frightful," I said; "and what course will you pursue, captain ? " With an icy glance the Partisan replied : — "The lex talionis is my code, colonel, — an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth." A3 he spoke, the numbers of his command were seen approaching, with about a dozen prisoners. YIL AN EYE FOR AN EYE. Death in battle is one thing ; it seems aatural. Death by a military execution is another thing, and seems unnatural, repulsive, and horrible. One stirs the pulses, for it is tragic and terrible. The other revolts the feelings, for it is disgusting. Other considerations induce me to omit a minute account of the fierce spectacle which I witnessed that night. Melodrama ! — claptrap ! 5J some good people would be apt to exclaim. And for fear of these terrible critics, it beho ves those who write their own adventures to consult the vraisemblable rather than the vrai. These things occurred, and will not be believed. Let me therefore pass rapidly over the event of that night of 1864. The prisoners were ranged in a line with the men of the band opposite, and Landon sat his horse looking at the former. His face was perfectly calm, and he did not utter a word. When the preparations had been made, and a sergeant had reported witSi finger to his hat, Landor turned to me. 36 AN EYE FOB AN EYE. 37 "Colonel Surry he said, "lam glad you are here to-night and can testify to what you witness. I am a regularly commissioned officer in the Confed- erate States army; my command is a regularly .enrolled company under the Partisan Ranger Act of the Confederate Congress ; I make open war on the enemy, under the Confederate flag ; and I and my men are treated, not as optn enemies, but as bandits. You see before you a proof of this asser- tion. The three men hanging yonder were among the best and bravest of my command. They went out yesterday, — in Confederate uniform, as you see, — to attack a wagon-train belonging to Sheridan's army, were taken prisoners, and are hung here by Captain RatclifFe, of the Federal cavalry, as guer- illas. I have captured to-night a dozen men from Ratcliffe's command : they stand before you. What is necessary to protect my men hereafter from being thus murdered in cold blood? " There was but one reply to make. " The death of three of these prisoners," I said. " You are right, colonel, I am glad we agree." And, tearing a leaf from his despatch-book, Lan- don wrote upon it some lines ; the bright moonlight enabled him to do so without difficulty. He then turned to Arden. "Lieutenant," he said "you will see to the ex- ecution of the following orders. These prisoner* Ah ^.*E I OR AN EYE. will proceed to draw lots ; three will thus be desig- nated, and these three will be allowed fifteen minutes to perform their devotions, after which they will be shot to death. You will then take down the bodies hanging yonder, remove them to Millwood, where they will be placed in coffins, to await my return to-morrow, and the bodies of the three pris- oners will be hung in the places which my men now occupy. Lastly, you will affix to the trunk of the tree beneath them the paper which I hold in my hand. It contains the words • — •* 1 These three men of Captain Katcliffe's command are executed by my order, in retaliation for three of my own men, murdered in cold blood by himself. " * St. Leger Landon, Captain C.S.A.'" Arden saluted and received the paper from the hand of Landon. " For the performance of this duty," continued the Partisan, "you will detail six men, and will see in person that my orders are executed. When per- formed, report to me at the Bethel Cross Roads, where I will bivouac.' 7 There was something terribly weird in these busi- ness-like and commonplace details of a bloody trag- edy. Landon gave his orders with the air of a man AN EYE FOB AN EYE. 39 who is merely following a routine as humdrum as guard-mounting, or calling the roll. His voice was unmoved ; his countenance perfect- ly indifferent. Having finished, he turned his horse's head toward the river, and we rode off together, fol- lowed by the whole command, with the exception of the six men who remained with Arden. I was only too glad to leave the spot. The ter- rible scene about to be enacted had no attractions in my eyes, — thoroughly as I approved it, — and I turned my back upon the gloomy locality with a long breath of relief. Landon exhibited no emotion of any description. His impassive countenance revealed nothing. Riding in silence past the mill, where he paused a few mo- ments to look after the wounded carried thither, and to give orders for their transfer in safety beyond the Ridge, he turned into the road by which Blount had come to his assistance, and, going half a mile, halted in a little wood near a cross roads. Suddenly, as the column halted, three shots re- sounded from the direction of Millwood. I could not suppress a shudder at that , sound, which indi- cated that three human beings had passed from time to eternity. I looked at Landon. His countenance was entire- ly unmoved. 40 AN EYE FOU AN EYE. " Put out videttes," he said, in a calm voice, fes a sergeant, " and tell the men to unsaddle." Half an hour afterwards I had wrapped my cape around me. and fallen asleep, worn out with fatigue, beneath a tree. Such were the events of my first night on tht Shenandoah.* •TMsiaaident is real. vra. THE NIGHT MARCH. The beams of the September sun, darting from the flimmit of the Blue Ridge, and turning the dewy leaves to molten gold, awoke me. Landon was already up, and the men were busy aroand their bivouac fires, preparing breakfast. It was a plain but excellent meal, and having finished I 'ose to depart. " Then you will not stay and attend the burial of jay poor fellows to-night, colonel? n " The burial to-night, captain ? " " Yes, 1 regard it as a duty I owe them. They were brave and faithful soldiers, and deserve some- thing more than to be thrown into the first ditch by the roadside. God willing, no man of my command shall be thus treated ; and I intend to bury these three in the Old Chapel graveyard, about three miles from Millwood, on the road to Berry ville. I should like to do so by daylight ; but a strong force is camped near the Chapel, and it is impossible." " You will go to-night ? " 61 42 THE NIGHT MAR VH. *' To-night, and as quietly as possible. Will you accompany ua ? " The expedition strangely attracted me. That love of adventure which all men possess, surrounded this nocturnal march in the performance of a pious duty, with an irresistible charm. "I will go with you, captain," I said, "but will first make a visit to a friend near White Post. Will I find you here at sunset? " "Then, or soon afterwards. I am going on & reconnoissance toward the Chapel, and will have re- turned by that time." {< Good ! I will be punctual." And, exchanging a pressure of the hand with my host, I set off to make my visit. That visit has no connection with the present his- tory, and I shall not dwell upon it. Punctually at sunset I was again in sight of the cross roads, and found the command, with the exception of Landon and one or two of the men, at the same spot in the woods which they had occupied on the preceding night. The scene was picturesque. The red light of sunset fell upon a little glade in the forest, and, grouped beneath a tall oak, with their horses ready saddled, and picketed to the boughs around, the Rangers had surrendered themselves to tne social de* lights of the bivouac. THE NIGHT uIABCII. 43 At the moment, the attention of all was centred upon Lieutenant Arden, who, seated upon a root of the oak, with his back against the trunk, was plac- ing upon a banjo, and singing. I had heard the music commence just as I turned a corner of the road, and the words came clearly to me on the calm evening air. Determined not to in ■ terrupt the singer, I checked my horse, remained mo- tionless, and listened. I should have expected some rude camp ballad h this bivouac of the Bangers — or, if Arden sang some stirring war lyric, full of the clash of the sabre, the bang of carbines, and the ring of the bugle What I heard was very different : and, strangest of all, was listened to by the Rangers with obvious sympathy and admiration. The song which the young sabreur sang — this youth who had proved himself a veritable firebrand on the preceding even- ing, cutting more than one man out of the saddle — was the following : — "abden's song. " On the Shenandoah the rose is in bloom, And the oriole sings in the sycamore-tree ; And Annie — I ask myself all the day long — » If A nnie is thinking of me ! M Alone in my tent on the Rapidan, I fancy the wind in the dreamy pines Is the sigh of the mountain evergreens By t»e fo*-d in the Yankee lines ! 44 TEE NIGHT MABCH. '* Bloom on, sweet roses of other years ! Sing, oriole gay, in the sycamore-tree ! Past the Rapidan and the Blue Ridge wave Is the face that I long to see ! u Ring out, silver bugle, the signal of strife ! Spur, sabre, and stirrup, clank merry and free ! To horse ! I am coming ! — and then I shall know If Annie is dreaming of me ! " As the sweet and tender accents of the yourhfu) ?oiee died away, I cried " Bravo ! " and the Rangers started up. I approached, and received a cordial greeting ; after which Lieutenant Arden made room for me on the root beside him, and I requested him to go on. " I was only singing the boys a little song of mine," he said, with a blush and a laugh; "they pretend that they like it, but their real favorites are 1 Johnny, fill up the Bowl,' and 4 Jine the Cavalry.' " With these words, Arden handed the banjo to one of the men, who sang in succession that lively ditty, commencing : — " We were ordered to charge and not to stop, And we oharged right into a whiskey shop ! We'll all drink stone Hind, Johnny, fill up the bowl ! * And then the famous song, so loved by Stuart : — THE NIGHT MARCH. 45 M If you want to have a good time, Jino the cavalry ! Bully boys, hey ! " Have you ever heard those wonderful lyrics, my dear reader ? If not, I should like to quote them, which I assure you I could do without missing a single word. I should like especially to record the latter, that great comic Iliad of the sabreurs of Stuart ; to lay before you in full, the most popular of all the cavalry ballads of the war. But, alas I to give the mere words would be to offer you a withered flower, from which the colour and perfume had fled. It would be nothing — this famous ditty — without the tune, without the banjo, without the foliage above, and the fires of the bivouac glimmering near. The performer executed it admirably, and the Ran- gers joined rapturously in the chorus. The woods rang; the very horses turned their heads, and the men starting to their feet, began to dance to the up- roarious strumming, above which rose the gay caval- ry chorus. Altogether the scene was indescribable for its grotesque merriment ; the Rangers had sur- rendered themselves to a mirth which passed all bounds. It was in the very midst of the revelry that the sound of horses' hoofs was heard, and Landon ap- peared at the turn of the road, accompanied by Touch-and-go. As Arden saw him, he extended his 46 THE NIGHT MABCH. band toward the performer on the banjo, buckled on his sabre, and gave the order : — " Prepare to mount ! " At that command the merriment ceased as if by magic. The. men ran to their horses, and, at a second order from Arden, mounted and formed column. The young man then rode up to Landon, made the military salute, and said : — " Ready, captain ! " Landon saluted in return, pressed my hand cordially, and, running his keen eye along the column, placed himself at the head, and gave suc- cessively the orders : — "Unfurl the flag!" and "Forward!" The red flag was unfurled, the column moved, and, at a steady pace, went back over the road by which we had reached the bivouac on the preceding even- ing. Ere long the houses of Millwood appeared, em- bowered in trees, and, in the waste ground in front, rose the great oak. As we passed, I turned my head, and looked at it. From the boughs, in place of the dead Confederates, hung the three Federal cavalrymen executed on the preceding evening. Against the trunk of the tree something glimmered in the moonlight. Et was the paper stating the grounds upon which the death penalty had been inflicted. THE NIGHT MARCH. 47 Habituated as I had long been to the liorrcurs of war, the three ghastly figures were appalling. There w?s something gloomy and lugubrious in their out- lines, as they dangled from the great oak, illumined by the ^oon ; the spectacle was tragic and terrible. As Landon rode by, I saw him look at them, and tried to discover in his countenance some traces of emotion. There were none whatever. He gazed at the ghastly figures with an expression of entire in- difference, and his face had the cold, hard look which characterized it invariably when in repose. Was there any feeling under that mask ? I know not. Men's faces are bad indices. Suffering hardens, and stamps a gloomy impress on the very muscles at length ; and under that frozen surface thoughts come and go as the tide does beneath the ice, without mov- ing the hard crust. Landon rode on without uttering a word, and pass- ing through the little stream, over which some tall trees leaned, we entered the village of Millwood, which the superb moonlight bathed in its mellow splendour. The bodies of the three Confederates awaited us in rude pine coffins, deposited in a light wagon ready to move. On the coffins some young ladies had placed wreaths and garlands of autumn flowers ; and, as wa appeared, more than one fair figure, glimmering in the moonlight, raised a white handkerchief to hor 48 THE NIGHT MARCH eyes ; more than one sob was uttered by those stand« ing beside the coffins. Landon saluted, but did not open his lips. At a sign from him, ths men ranged themselves in front ; the wagon moved ; and the funeral cortege, with the red flag borne in front, ascended the hill, proceeding slowly in the direction of the Old Chapel. I shall never forget that strange night march. The little band of Rangers, going to bury their dead comrades by moonlight, presented a solemn and mov- ing spectacle, and the landscape was in unison with the occasion. The chill wind of the September night sighed through the great oaks, and the moon shone with a dreamy and memorial splendour, lighting up the highway, the trees, the modest little church on its grassy slope, and the hamlet nestling down behind us, amid the autumn foliage. The band moved slow- ly on; scarce a hoof-stroke was heard; and the men resembled rather so many silent phantoms than human beings. It was, in truth, a strange scene, and a stranger errand. We were going thus, under cover of darkness, to give our poor, dead comrades Christian burial in holy ground, because we could not do so by day, for fear of interruption. Even now, amid the shadows of night, it was possible that some eye would spy us ; some enemy interrupt us — wad then we must fight. A fight over graves ! Tho THE NIGHT MARCH. 49 living must fall, that the dead might be b iried ! — the dead burying the dead ! We entered a forest, emerged into the open country beyond, and, ascending a lofty hill, were within a mile of the chapel. "I think we will have to fight, colonel," said Lan- dcn, by whose side I was riding. " There is a heavy force of cavalry just this side of Berry ville, and a picket at the Chapel. I reconnoitred this morning in person." " In that case you will attack ? " "Yes, I am determined to bury my poor fellows yonder in spite of them." As Landon spoke, a shot was heard in front, and then another quickly following the first. * £ That is bad, ' 7 said the Partisan. 1 1 Touch-and-go must have run into them unawares." " You sent him on ahead ? " " Yes, to discover if any change had taken place id the position of the picket." And, turning round, Landon said in his clear, low voice : — " Halt the column." At the word it halted, the men remaining mo- tionless on the slope. All at once muffled hoof-strokes were heard ap- proaching across the wide field on our left. Then a figure appeared advancing on a fleet horse in the dim 4 50 THE NIGHT MARCH. light. It was Touch-and-go, and in an instant he vas heside Landon. " Well ? " said the latter, briefly. " No change in the picket, captain," was the low reply of the scout ; " it is still on the hill above the Chapel." " You ran into the outer picket? '* "Against one of the videttes, captain. He was completely hidden in the sycamores near the Chapel fence, within a hundred yards of the main body, and before I knew it he fired on me." " Unlucky." " Sorry, captain, but really I could not help it. Who would have expected to find a vidette hidden there?" And an expression of quiet contempt came to Touch-and-go's face. " He fired, and turned to run back ; but I put a bullet through him, and he threw up his arms. I then jumped the fence, and came back to report." Landon reflected an instant. " You turned to the left? " "Yes, captain." " Good ! that will do. I will attack in front, and from the right yonder. Lieutenant Arden ! " The young lieutenant rode up and saluted. "I am going to attack the picket, lieutenant. You will take twelve men and gain that wocd. yon- the mom MARCH. 51 der on our right, so as to be able to strike the enemy in flank and rear. I will go on, on this road. The signal of your attack will be firing in front. Move quickly, but quietly. I shall break them by a charge with the sabre, and expect to meet you on the hill, lieutenant, when we will drive them." " All right, captain ; it shall be done." And, with an animated face, the young officer re« turned to his men, took twelve, and moved off rap- idly, but silently, over the field on the right. Landon then rode forward, inviting me to follow hira. " Arden will require a little time," he said; "and we will take a look at the ground, colonel. It is picturesque." We had left the highway, on both sides of which the fences were torn down, and the turf over which we advanced gave back no echo. Five minutes' ride brought us to the summit of a hill, and from this hill we had a view of the Old Chapel, irhich lay immediately in front of us. It was an ancient edifice of plain gray stone nes- tling in a sort of amphitheatre of hills, dotted with country seats. Near it ran a little stream skirted with sycamores, which extended also upon each side of the highway, forming a vault of foliage above. Beyond the sycamores some weeping willows waved their tassels in the wind, and beneath these glim- 52 THF NIGHT MARCH. mered in the moonlight the white tombstones of the tranquil country graveyard. It seemed like a blot upon the lovely landscape, — ■ that dusky mass of horsemen on the hill beyond. Upon this commanding point the officer of the picket had taken up his position, to observe the main high- way over which we were advancing, and a second road, which, forking at the Chapel, ran across our left, in the direction of White Post. Landon gazed in silence for some moments toward the picket. " The very worst place I know for an attack," he said; " but I count on Arden, — and my first charge will drive them. Come, colonel," he added, turn- ing his horse rapidly, " I never see such game as is yonder before us, on the hill, without feeling like giving the view-halloo ! " "You are far from complimentary, captain," I said laughing; "you compare our friends to foxes." "You are right, colonel," said Landon; "they are wolves." IX. THE OLD CHAPEL. In a few minutes we had rejoined the hand. Al a sign from Landon the men moved obliquely into the grassy field where the turf muffled the hoof- strokes and sound of wheels. "No noise," said Landon, in a low tone; "wait for the word." And, placing himself in front, he drew his sabre } and advanced rapidly toward the Chapel. Suddenly, as they approached the sycamore screen near the low fence, a blue horseman, evidently an officer, galloped out, and cried : — "What command is that ? " "I will show you, ' returned Landon. And, with a whirl of the sabre, he shouted : — "Charge!" At the word the men uttered a yell, dug the spur into their horses, and, passing like a tornado beneath the vault of foliage, rushed up the hill, firing a volley as they did so into the picket. They then closed in with the sabre, and an obstinate com- bat, hand to hand, followed. It was a weird afrair 53 54 THE OLD CIIAPEL. The moonlight lit up every figure, and the very ex- pression? of the combatants' faces were clearly visible as they fought hilt to hilt. Landon nad only half surprised them, and nothing but his desperate lighting made the result doubtful. The enemy were closing around him ; his horse, shot through the head, was staggering, and on the point of hurling his rider beneath the trampling hoofs, when suddenly a volley resounded from the enemy's rear, and Arden, at the head of his horsemen, darted upon them with the drawn sabre. The result was such as almost invariably follows a surprise. The Federal cavalry gave back, scat- tered in every direction, and retreated, pursued by the Partisans, at whose head was Landon, mounted on a captured horse, and cutting down everything in his path. The pursuit continued for half a mile, when a shrill whistle resounded, and the men quickly drew rein. That whistle was Landon' s signal, as it was Colonel Mosby's, to " rally on the Chief,*' as is the cavalry phrase. In a few minutes the larger portion of the band had assembled on the hill near the Chapel, and every man was accompanied by horses and prisoners. Landon called to Arden, and the young mac hastened up. " Send the prisoners and horses to the rear, with- THE OLD CHAPEL. 55 out deky, lieutenant, and detail a party :o dig thi graves ! " he said. Arden saluted, and rapidly issued the necessary orders, after which he galloped back. " Deploy the men as skirmishers, and take charge of the left, Arden," the Partisan said : " I will stay on the right. We are going to be attacked, as the alarm is given by this time at the camp of the brigade. Be steady, Arden; hold your ground I am not going away from here until my men are buried ! " "You can count on me, captain! " exclaimed tho youth. "I know it." And Landon drew up his men on the hill, the delighted Arden hastening off to take command of those on the left. What followed, exhibited the discernment of the Partisan. In twenty minutes a dark mass appeared coming from the direction of Berry ville, and all along the line of sharpshooters resounded the crack of carbines. From the summit of tfie hill I then witnessed a curious — what the novelists would call a "dra- matic" — spectacle. In the graveyard, near the great weeping willows, I could perceive the dusky figures of the men digging the graves of their dead comrades, while from the field in front came the THE OLD CHAPEL. incessant report of fire-arms. The enemy were feel- ing their way, not knowing the force opposed to them, and evidently fearing an ambuscade. Their advance was thus slow, and the steady fire kept up along his whole front by Landon, evidently puzzled them Nearly an hour thus passed. Finally a man rode up from the graveyard, and reported that the graves were finished. ' ' Good ! ' ' exclaimed Landon ; and galloping tc the spot where Arden was fighting, he said: — "Keep up a steady fire, lieutenant, and if you are forced back, retire slowly. I will be back in fifteen minutes." And, requesting me to follow, he turned his horse and went at a gallop back to the graveyard, the low wall of which his horse cleared at a bound. The graves were dug ; the three coffins lay beside them. It was a singular interment I was about to witness on this moonlight night, with that incessant report of carbines resounding beyond the crest; those bullets rattling against the gray old church, or hiss- ing angrily through the pendant tassels of the weep- ing willows. Landon threw himself from his horse and looked at the graves. They were wide and deep. " Good ! " he said : " are the ropes ready ? " " All ready, captain," replied one of the men. " Lower the coffins ! 77 THE OLD CHAPEL. 57 The ropes were rapidly inserted beneath thein, and the three coffins deposited in the graves. Landon had folded his arms, and an expression of profound sadness veiled the clear light of his dark eyes. Turning to me, he sai