There was no further discussion. The South chose death before racial
treason.

CHAPTER XLVI

The miracle which Toombs feared came to pass. In the blackest hour of
the Lincoln administration, his own party despaired of his election. The
National Republican Committee came to Washington and demanded that he
withdraw from the ticket and allow them to name a candidate who might
have a chance against General McClellan and his peace platform.

And then it happened.

Sherman suddenly took Atlanta and swung his legions toward the sea. A
black pall of smoke marked his trail. The North leaped once more with
the elemental impulse. A wave of war enthusiasm swept Lincoln back into
the White House. And a new line of blue soldiers streamed to Grant's
front.

The ragged men in gray were living on parched corn. Grant edged his blue
legions farther and farther southward until he saw the end of the mortal
trenches Lee's genius had built. The lion sprang on his exposed flank
and Petersburg was doomed.

The Southern Commander sent his fated message to Richmond that he
must uncover the Capital of the Confederacy, and staggered out of his
trenches to attempt a union of forces with Johnston's army in North
Carolina.

Grant's host were on his heels, his guns thundering, his cavalry
destroying.

A negro regiment entered Richmond as the flames of the burning city
licked the skies.

Lee paused at Appomattox to await the coming of his provision train. His
headquarters were fixed beneath an apple tree in full bloom.

He bent anxiously over a field map with his Adjutant. His face was
clouded with deep anxiety.

"Why doesn't Gordon report?" he cried. "We've sent three couriers. They
haven't returned. Grant has not only closed the road to Lynchburg, he
has pushed a wedge into our lines and cut Gordon off. If he has, we're
in a trap--"

"It couldn't have happened in an hour!" Taylor protested.

"Order Fitzhugh Lee to concentrate every horse for Gordon's support and
call in Alexander for a conference."

Taylor hastened to execute the command and Lee sat down under the
flower-draped tree.

Sam approached bearing a tray.

"De coffee's all ready, Marse Robert--'ceptin' dey ain't no coffee in
it. Does ye want a cup? Hit's good, hot black water, sah!"

Lee's eyes were not lifted.

"No, Sam, thank you."

The faithful negro shook his head and walked back to his sorry kitchen.

Taylor handed his order to a dust-covered courier