"Well, judging from your fighting reputation, I looked for a two hundred pounder, at least," I replied.

His spare form was set off by a prominent nose, a keen eye and a sandy beard. There was nothing ferocious in his appearance but when in the saddle he was not a man whom one would care to meet single-handed. There was that about him which gave evidence of alertness and courage of the highest order.

It was astonishing to see officers of Mosby's command walk up to union officers, salute and accost them by name.

"Where did I meet you?" would be the reply.

"There was no introduction. I met you in your camp, though you were not aware of it at the time."

Major Richards, a swarthy-looking soldier, remarked to me that he was once a prisoner of the Fifth and Sixth Michigan cavalry. He was captured near Aldie, in the spring of 1863, and made his escape when the Michigan regiments were on the march back to Fairfax Court House, in the night, when his guards were not noticing, by falling out of the column and boldly ordering his captors to "close up" as they were coming out of a narrow place in the road when the column of fours had to break by twos.

In the darkness and confusion he was mistaken for one of our own officers. After he had seen the column all "closed up" he rode the other way.

After awhile the farmer called us in to dinner and the blue and the gray were arranged around the table, in alternate seats. I sat between two members of the celebrated Smith family. One of them, R. Chilton Smith, was a relative of General Lee, or of his chief-of-staff, a young man of very refined manners, highly educated and well bred. He sent a package and a message by me to a friend in Winchester, a commission that was faithfully executed. The other was the son of Governor, better known as "Extra Billy" Smith, of Virginia; a short, st.u.r.dy youth, full of life and animation and venom.

"Mosby would be a blanked fool to take the parole," said he, spitefully.

"I will not, if he does."

"But Lee has surrendered. The jig is up. Why try to prolong the war and cause further useless bloodshed?"

"I will never give up so long as there is a man in arms against your yankee government," he replied.

"But what can you do? Richmond is ours."

"I will go and join 'Joe' Johnston."

"It is a question of but a few days, at most, when Sherman will bag him."

"Then I will go west of the Mississippi, where Kirby Smith still holds the fort."

"Grant, Sherman, Sheridan and Thomas will make short work of Kirby Smith."

"Then, if worst comes to worst," he hotly retorted, "I will go to Mexico and join Maximilian. I will never submit to yankee rule; never."

I greatly enjoyed the young man's fervor and loyalty to his "cause" and, in spite of his bitterness, we took quite a liking to each other and, on parting, he was profuse in his expressions of regard and urged me cordially not to forget him should fortune take me his way again.

A day or two later, I was ordered to Petersburg, and soon thereafter, was in Richmond, Johnston having, in the meantime, surrendered. In the evening of the day of my arrival, after having visited the points of interest, Libby prison, the burnt district, the state house, etc., I was in the office of the Spotswood hotel where were numbers of federal and confederate soldiers chatting pleasantly together, when I was saluted with a hearty:

"h.e.l.lo; how are you, colonel!" and, on looking around, was surprised as well as pleased to see my young friend of the Millwood conference.

I was mighty glad to meet him again and told him so, while he seemed to reciprocate the feeling. There was a cordial shaking of hands and after the first friendly greetings had been exchanged I said:

"But what does this mean? How about Mexico and Maximilian? Where is Mosby? What has been going on in the valley? Tell me all about it."

"Mexico be blanked" said he. "Mosby has taken the parole and so have I.

The war is over and I am glad of it. I own up. I am subjugated."

The next day I met him again.

"I would be only too glad to invite you to our home and show you a little hospitality," said he, "but your military governor has taken possession of our house, father has run away, and mother is around among the neighbors."

I a.s.sured him of my appreciation of both his good will and of the situation and begged him to be at ease on my account. He very politely accompanied me in a walk around the city and did all he could to make my stay agreeable.

I never saw him afterwards. When in Yorktown in 1881, I made inquiry of General Fitzhugh Lee about young Smith and learned that he was dead. I hope that he rests in peace, for although a "rebel" and a "guerrilla,"

as we called them in those days, he was a whole-hearted, generous, and courageous foe who, though but a boy in years, was ready to fight for the cause he believed in and, in true chivalrous spirit, grasp the hand of his former adversary in genuine kindness and good-fellowship.

One other incident of the Millwood interview is perhaps worth narrating.

A bright eyed young scamp of Mosby's command mounted the sorrel mare ridden by his chief, and flourishing a roll of bills which they had probably confiscated on some raid into yankee territory, rode back and forth in front of the lawn, crying out:

"Here are two hundred dollars in greenbacks which say that this little, lean, sorrel mare of Colonel Mosby's, can outrun any horse in the yankee cavalry."

The bet was not taken.

THE END