I would like to record our talk as we rode on toward Petersburg—describe that ride—a charming episode, flashing like a gleam of sunlight, amid the dark days, when the black clouds had covered the whole landscape. In this volume there is so much gloom! Suffering and death have met us so often! Can you wonder, my dear reader, that the historian of such an epoch longs to escape, when he can, from the gloom of the tragedy, and paint those scenes of comedy which occasionally broke the monotonous drama? To write this book is not agreeable to me. I wear out a part of my life in composing it. To sum up, in cold historic generalities that great epoch would be little—but to enter again into the hot atmosphere; to live once more that life of the past; to feel the gloom, the suspense, the despair of 1865 again—believe me, that is no trifle! It wears away the nerves, and tears the heart. The cheek becomes pale as the MS. grows! The sunshine is yonder, but you do not see it. The past banishes the present. Across the tranquil landscape of March, 1868, jars the cannon, and rushes the storm wind of March, 1865!
The cloud was black above, therefore, but Katy Dare made the world bright with her own sunshine, that day. All the way to Petersburg, she ran on in the most charming prattle. The winding Boydton road, like the banks of the lower Rowanty, was made vocal with her songs—the “Bird of Beauty” and the whole repertoire. Nor was Tom Herbert backward in encouraging his companion’s mirth. Tom was the soul of joy. He sang “Katy! Katy! don’t marry any other!” with an unction which spoke in his quick color, and “melting glances” as in the tones of his laughing voice. Riding along the famous highway, upon which only a solitary cavalryman or a wagon occasionally appeared, the little maiden and her lover made the pine-woods ring with their songs, their jests, and their laughter!
It is good to be young and to love. Is there any thing more charming? For my part I think that the curly head holds the most wisdom! Tell me which was the happier—the gray-haired general yonder, oppressed by care, or the laughing youth and maiden? It is true there is something nobler, however, than youth, and joy, and love. It is to know that you are doing your duty—to bear up, like Atlas, a whole world upon your shoulders—to feel that, if you fall, the whole world will shake—and that history will place your name beside that of Washington!
As the sun began to decline, we rode into Petersburg, and bidding Katy and Tom adieu, I returned to my Cedars.
I had taken my last ride in the “low grounds” of the county of Dinwiddie; I was never more to see Disaways, unless something carries me thither in the future. To those hours spent in the old mansion, and with my comrades, near it, I look back now with delight. Days and nights on the Rowanty! how you come back to me in dreams! Happy hours at Disaways, with the cavalry, with the horse artillery! you live still in my memory, and you will live there always! Katy Dare runs to greet me again as in the past—again her blue eyes dance, and the happy winds are blowing her bright curls into ripples! She smiles upon me still—as in that “winter of discontent.” Her cheerful voice again sounds. Her small hands are held out to me. All things go—nothing lingers—but those days on the Rowanty, amid the sunset gilded pines, come back with all their tints, and are fadeless in my memory.
Going back thus in thought, to that winter of 1864, I recall the friendly faces of Katy, and all my old comrades—I hear their laughter again, touch their brave hands once more, and salute them, wishing them long life and happiness.
“Farewell!” I murmur, “Rowanty, and Sappony, and Disaways! Bonne fortune! old companions, little maiden, and kind friends all! It has not been time lost to gather together my recollections—to live again in the past,—to catch the aroma of those hours when kindness smoothed the front of war! We no longer wear the gray—my mustache only shows it now! but, thank heaven! many things in memory survive. I think of these—of the old comrades, the old times. Health and happiness attend you on your way through life, comrades! May the silver spare the gold of your clustering ringlets, Katy! Joy and gladness follow your steps! all friendly stars shine on you! Wherever you are, old friends, may a kind heaven send you its blessing!”