Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War Part 18

That captain was a valorous one (No irony, but honest truth), Yet down from his brain cold drops distilled, Making stalact.i.tes in his heart-- A conscientious soul, forsooth; And with a formal hate was filled Of Mosby's band; and some he'd killed.

Meantime the lady rueful sat, Watching the flicker of a fire Were the Colonel played the outdoor host In brave old hall of ancient Night.

But ever the dame grew shyer and shyer, Seeming with private grief engrossed-- Grief far from Mosby, housed or lost.

The ruddy embers showed her pale.

The Soldier did his best devoir: "Some coffee?--no?--cracker?--one"

Cared for her servant--sought to cheer: "I know, I know--a cruel war!

But wait--even Mosby'll eat his bun; The Old Hearth--back to it anon!"

But cordial words no balm could bring; She sighed, and kept her inward chafe, And seemed to hate the voice of glee-- Joyless and tearless. Soon he called An escort: "See this lady safe In yonder house.--Madam, you're free.

And now for Mosby.--Guide! with me."

("A night-ride, eh?") "Tighten your girths!

But, buglers! not a note from you.

Fling more rails on the fires--a blaze"

("Sergeant, a feint--I told you so-- Toward Aldie again. Bivouac, adieu!") After the cheery flames they gaze, Then back for Mosby through the maze.

The moon looked through the trees, and tipped The scabbards with her elfin beam; The Leader backward cast his glance, Proud of the cavalcade that came-- A hundred horses, bay and cream: "Major! look how the lads advance-- Mosby we'll have in the ambulance!"

"No doubt, no doubt:--was that a hare?-- First catch, then cook; and cook him brown"

"Trust me to catch," the other cried-- "The lady's letter!--a dance, man, dance This night is given in Leesburg town"

"He'll be there too!" wheezed out the Guide; "That Mosby loves a dance and ride!"

"The lady, ah!--the lady's letter-- A _lady_, then, is in the case"

Muttered the Major. "Ay, her aunt Writes her to come by Friday eve (To-night), for people of the place, At Mosby's last fight jubilant, A party give, though table-cheer be scant."

The Major hemmed. "Then this night-ride We owe to her?--One lighted house In a town else dark.--The moths, begar!

Are not quite yet all dead!" "How? how"

"A mute, meek mournful little mouse!-- Mosby has wiles which subtle are-- But woman's wiles in wiles of war!"

"Tut, Major! by what craft or guile--"

"Can't tell! but he'll be found in wait.

Softly we enter, say, the town-- Good! pickets post, and all so sure-- When--crack! the rifles from every gate, The Gray-backs fire--dashes up and down-- Each alley unto Mosby known!"

"Now, Major, now--you take dark views Of a moonlight night." "Well, well, we'll see"

And smoked as if each whiff were gain.

The other mused; then sudden asked, "What would you do in grand decree"

I'd beat, if I could, Lee's armies--then Send constables after Mosby's men."

"Ay! ay!--you're odd." The moon sailed up; On through the shadowy land they went.

"_Names must be made and printed be!_"

Hummed the blithe Colonel. "Doc, your flask!

Major, I drink to your good content.

My pipe is out--enough for me!

One's b.u.t.tons s.h.i.+ne--does Mosby see?

"But what comes here?" A man from the front Reported a tree athwart the road.

"Go round it, then; no time to bide; All right--go on! Were one to stay For each distrust of a nervous mood, Long miles we'd make in this our ride Through Mosby-land.--Oh! with the Guide!"

Then sportful to the Surgeon turned: "Green sashes hardly serve by night"

"Nor bullets nor bottles," the Major sighed, "Against these moccasin-snakes--such foes As seldom come to solid fight: They kill and vanish; through gra.s.s they glide; Devil take Mosby!--" his horse here s.h.i.+ed.

"Hold! look--the tree, like a dragged balloon; A globe of leaves--some trickery here; My nag is right--best now be shy"

A movement was made, a hubbub and snarl; Little was plain--they blindly steer.

The Pleiads, as from ambush sly, Peep out--Mosby's men in the sky!

As restive they turn, how sore they feel, And cross, and sleepy, and full of spleen, And curse the war. "Fools, North and South"

Said one right out. "O for a bed!

O now to drop in this woodland green"

He drops as the syllables leave his mouth-- Mosby speaks from the undergrowth--

Speaks in a volley! out jets the flame!

Men fall from their saddles like plums from trees; Horses take fright, reins tangle and bind; "Steady--Dismount--form--and into the wood"

They go, but find what scarce can please: Their steeds have been tied in the field behind, And Mosby's men are off like the wind.

Sound the recall! vain to pursue-- The enemy scatters in wilds he knows, To reunite in his own good time; And, to follow, they need divide-- To come lone and lost on crouching foes: Maple and hemlock, beech and lime, Are Mosby's confederates, share the crime.

"Major," burst in a bugler small, "The fellow we left in Loudon gra.s.s-- Sir slyboots with the inward bruise, His voice I heard--the very same-- Some watchword in the ambush pa.s.s; Ay, sir, we had him in his shoes-- We caught him--Mosby--but to lose!"

"Go, go!--these saddle-dreamers! Well, And here's another.--Cool, sir, cool"

"Major, I saw them mount and sweep, And one was humped, or I mistake, And in the skurry dropped his wool"

"A wig! go fetch it:--the lads need sleep; They'll next see Mosby in a sheep!

"Come, come, fall back! reform yours ranks-- All's jackstraws here! Where's Captain Morn?-- We've parted like boats in a raging tide!

But stay-the Colonel--did he charge?

And comes he there? 'Tis streak of dawn; Mosby is off, the woods are wide-- Hist! there's a groan--this crazy ride!"

As they searched for the fallen, the dawn grew chill; They lay in the dew: "Ah! hurt much, Mink?

And--yes--the Colonel!" Dead! but so calm That death seemed nothing--even death, The thing we deem every thing heart can think; Amid wilding roses that shed their balm, Careless of Mosby he lay--in a charm!

The Major took him by the Hand-- Into the friendly clasp it bled (A ball through heart and hand he rued): "Good-by" and gazed with humid glance; Then in a hollow revery said "The weakness thing is l.u.s.tihood; But Mosby--" and he checked his mood.

"Where's the advance?--cut off, by heaven!

Come, Surgeon, how with your wounded there"

"The ambulance will carry all"

"Well, get them in; we go to camp.

Seven prisoners gone? for the rest have care"

Then to himself, "This grief is gall; That Mosby!--I'll cast a silver ball!"

"Ho!" turning--"Captain Cloud, you mind The place where the escort went--so shady?

Go search every closet low and high, And barn, and bin, and hidden bower-- Every covert--find that lady!

And yet I may misjudge her--ay, Women (like Mosby) mystify.

"We'll see. Ay, Captain, go--with speed!

Surround and search; each living thing Secure; that done, await us where We last turned off. Stay! fire the cage If the birds be flown." By the cross-road spring The bands rejoined; no words; the glare Told all. Had Mosby plotted there?

The weary troop that wended now-- Hardly it seemed the same that p.r.i.c.ked Forth to the forest from the camp: Foot-sore horses, jaded men; Every backbone felt as nicked, Each eye dim as a sick-room lamp, All faces stamped with Mosby's stamp.

In order due the Major rode-- Chaplain and Surgeon on either hand; A riderless horse a negro led; In a wagon the blanketed sleeper went; Then the ambulance with the bleeding band; And, an emptied oat-bag on each head, Went Mosby's men, and marked the dead.