he spurs of the Alleghanies. We follow in the
wake. We see the unwearied efforts of the victorious host to close
around the retreating army which has so long been the bulwark of the
Confederacy. We hear the summons to surrender, and the answer of "_Not
yet_;" but within a day that answer is reversed, and the stern wills
of Lee and his fellow-commanders yield to the inexorable law of the
strongest.

Only recently, however, the story has been told with great spirit from
the Confederate side, by General John B. Gordon, who was at that time
at the right hand of his commander-in-chief, and who stood by him to
the last hour. General Gordon's account of the final struggle of the
Confederate army and of the surrender is so graphic, so full of
spirit, so warmed with the animation and devotion of a great soldier,
that we here repeat his account of

THE DEATH STRUGGLE.

We always retreated in good order, though always under fire. As we
retreated we would wheel and fire, or repel a rush, and then stagger
on to the next hilltop, or vantage ground, where a new fight would be
made. And so on through the entire day. At night my men had no rest.
We marched through the night in order to get a little respite from
fighting. All night long I would see my poor fellows hobbling along,
prying wagons or artillery out of the mud, and supplementing the work
of our broken-down horses. At dawn, though, they would be in line
ready for battle, and they would fight with the steadiness and valor
of the Old Guard.

This lasted until the night of the seventh of April. The retreat of
Lee's army was lit up with the fire and flash of battle, in which my
brave men moved about like demigods for five days and nights. Then we
were sent to the front for a rest, and Longstreet was ordered to cover
the retreating army. On the evening of the eighth, when I had reached
the front, my scout George brought me two men in Confederate uniform,
who, he said, he believed to be the enemy, as he had seen them
counting our men as they filed past. I had the men brought to my
campfire, and examined them. They made a plausible defence, but George
was positive they were spies, and I ordered them searched. He failed
to find anything, when I ordered him to examine their boots. In the
bottom of one of the boots I found an order from General Grant to
General Ord, telling him to move by forced marches toward Lynchburg
and cut off General Lee's retreat. The men then confessed that