cast their fragrance to the lingering winds. Here the half clad, sore
footed soldiers of the Army of Northern Virginia, were trembling with
dread impatience for the onset,--the inevitable--which would decide
their fate and their prospect of reaching the mountains just beyond. In
front of them the federal cavalry awaited their coming.

It was yet grey in the morning when General Lee sent word to his
Lieutenant Gordon to cut his "_way through at all hazards_." With the
impetuosity of a cyclone, his shattered corps rushed upon the dismounted
cavalry in their front, the Federal line quivered, and bent to the gale.
On and on they came, pressing closer and closer upon the cavalry. The
struggle was becoming desperate, it was the last hope of the
confederates they must go through the lines, or perish in the attempt.
Again the confederate yell rose above the din of the battle's roar, and
soon the cavalry fell back. Where was their leader Sheridan? He came,
galloping at break-neck speed, his men cheering him as he rode to the
front. He had been to the rear some five miles away. He saw at a glance
the daring object of the foe, and ordered his men to fall back slowly.
The confederates followed up the wavering line with brightened hopes,
but hopes that were to be dissipated; soon the bristling bayonets, and
glistening musket barrels of the Army of the James gleamed in their
front; then the pressure ceased, and Sheridan's bugle sounded the order
to mount, and his troopers dashed themselves against the enemy's left
flank. Then, one bearing a white flag--a flag of truce, rode to the
front of the confederate lines. Capt. J. D. Cook of General Mile's staff
went forward to meet him. It was Colonel Taylor of General Lee's staff;
he bore a note from Lee, asking a suspension of hostilities, and an
interview with General Grant. Now let us go back to the night of the
6th, and trace the flying columns to this point. Badeau says:

"That night once more the rebels evacuated their works, this
time in front of Meade, and when morning dawned were far on
their way, as they fondly thought, to Lynchburg, and Lee
defiantly informed his pursuer that the emergency for the
surrender had not yet arrived. But he reckoned without his
host. He was stretching, with the terrific haste that
precedes despair, to Appomattox for supplies. He need hardly
have hastened to that spot, destined to be so fatal to
himself and h