58 NortH Carortina Troops, 1861-’65,

this din of battle, time after time they would send up the old
time defiant rebel yell. Late in the evening, I asked Matt.
Secrest, of my company, whose cheeks from the corner of his
mouth to his ears were almost black as lampblack from the
frequent tearing of cartridges, how many rounds he thought
he had fired. His answer was: “I know from the number of
times I have replenished my supply of cartridges that I have
fired more than 200 rounds.”

It was a matter of surprise to us during the day that we
did not receive reinforcements. We did not know that our
lines were broken throughout their length and that every sol-
dier in the army of General Lee was doing five men’s work,
but it was a fact. In the afternoon, the Petersburg battalion
of Junior Reserves, composed of boys without beard, were
sent to our assistance and fought like veterans. At last, night
came, and under cover of darkness the army that had been so
long engaged in defending the gallant little city, retired from
its lines crossed the Appomattox and started on the long re-
treat which ended at Appomattox Court House. If General
Grant had succeeded in successfully breaking through our
lines at Fort Mahone, he would have cut the army in two,
and the war would have ended at Petersburg instead of Ap-
pomattox Court House. I have recently been along the
lines at Petersburg, and it now seems to me a mystery how
those lines were maintained so long with so few defenders.

The rest of my story is short. We fell back to Amelia
Court House on the old Richmond & Danville road, where we
expected to draw rations. It is hard to imagine our disap-
pointment when we ascertained at this point that by some
cruel mistake, the train loaded with provisions for our sus-
tenance had gone through to Richmond and was in the hands
of the enemy.

On 6 April, we started toward Lynchburg. Shortly after
sunrise we were attacked by Sheridan on our left flank, and
all day long we retreated and fought and fought and retreated,
arriving at Farmville after night, leaving thousands of pris-
oners in the hands of the enemy. We continued our retreat on
the 7th and 8th with little fighting. On the night of the 8th we
camped in the woods near the village of Appomattox, and

Forty-Firra REGIMENT. 59

before day the next morning again started on the march to-
ward Lynchburg. Our division, commanded by General
Grimes, marched up the red ‘road through the little village,
passed the Court House and halted and formed a line of bat-
tle just behind the crest of a ridge that lay at right angles
with the road. As soon as the line was established, the
division was ordered forward in line of battle, no enemy in
sight. As we reached the top of the hill, we were greeted
with a fire of artillery and infantry. We did just what we
had always done before; raised a shout and made a dash
at Sheridan’s line. The line was broken, of course, and his
troops driven from the field. The division was halted and the
men lay down to rest awaiting further orders. It was a
supreme moment, and the fate of that division rested with
General Lee, the man, who was almost worshipped by his sol-
diers. It was for him to say whether the conflict should
there end or whether the remnant of his army should close
the last scene of the mighty drama, by submitting to annihi-
lation. In the kindness of his great heart, he determined
that his soldiers had done enough, and he yielded to “over-
whelming numbers and resources.” During the seven days’
retreat many of the regiments of that army had not eaten
what was sufficient for one full day’s rations. The ceremo-
nies and capitulation having ended, the men returned to their
homes. The course pursued by these scarred veterans during
years following that surrender, in helping to build up waste
places and establish stable government, in the Southern
States; is a part of the country’s history, and is as glorious
as were their actions on the field. I venture to say that the
conduct of the Confederate soldiers since the war, in submit-
ting to its results, in bearing the burdens of taxation to raise
enormous sums of money, with which to pay pensions to
their old enemies, and all without scarcely a murmur, finds
no parallel in the history of the human race.

The foregoing sketch has been written from time to time,
between pressing professional engagements. I greatly re-
gret that it had not been written years ago, while facts might
have been furnished by the actors, most of whom are now
dead.