The great fifth
act of the tragic drama was approaching.
XV.
MOHUN AGAIN.
Three days after my arrival, I mounted my horse, crossed the
Appomattox, followed the Boydton road, struck southward at the Quaker
road, and soon found myself in the heart of the shadowy pine woods of
that singular country, Dinwiddie.
My official duty was to inspect and report the condition of the cavalry
and horse artillery of the army at the beginning and middle of each
month. And now, first assuring the reader that I performed my duty in
all weather, and amid every difficulty, I will drop the official phase
of my history, and proceed to matters rather more entertaining.
On the day after my departure from Petersburg, I had made my
inspections, and was returning.
I had been received by my old friends of the cavalry with every mark of
cordial regard. General Hampton, General Lee, and the various officers
and men whom I had known as a staff-officer of General Stuart, seemed
to welcome the sight of a face which, perhaps, reminded them of their
dead leader; and I had pressed all these warm hands, and received these
friendly greetings not without emotion--for I, too, was carried back to
the past.
I saw Mordaunt and Davenant, but not Mohun--he was absent, visiting his
picket line.
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