 | Hilt to hilt, or, Days and nights on the banks of the Shenandoah in the autumn of 1864 |  |
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; “you are almost
on the vidette.”
“Where is he?”
“Just beyond that thicket.”
“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 sound was heard.
Five minutes passed thus; then two figures
his prisoner.
“Good!” said Landon. “You don't make much
noise.”
“I put my pistol to his head, and he surrendered
without a word.”
Landon turned to the prisoner, a black-browed individual
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 sabre,
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 slashing
with the sabre.
It was a scene of the wildest confusion, and nothing
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 surprise
and chase was singular. I will always remember
it; and nothing remains so distinctly in my mind as
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 Partisan'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 direction
of Millwood; a din of smiting hoofs mingled with
it, and the long continuous splash of a column passing
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
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. Landon
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 beyond,
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 combats
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 Berryville.
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 “demoralized”
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
twenty 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. “I wonder if it was that wretch,
or his ghost?”
| Hilt to hilt, or, Days and nights on the banks of the Shenandoah in the autumn of 1864 | |