on our arms. It had been
a tiresome day, and, though neither then nor now an admirer of strong
drink, I fell back upon and fully appreciated the contents of my
canteen--the famous apple brandy of Amelia Springs.

This, although we did not know it then, was destined to be (save the
last of all) the hardest night upon us. We moved into a piece of woods
as soon as it was dark, and formed the regiment in squadrons, with
orders to water horses, a squadron at a time--the rest holding
position, the men in the saddle, until the return of the preceding
squadron--and then picket their horses and make fires as near as
possible on the same ground. But when the first squadron returned from
the water, and the field officers had just unbuckled their sabres and
stretched themselves on the ground to take the rest so much needed,
and watch that most interesting process to a hungry man, the building
up the little fire that was to do his modest cooking, when an orderly
comes from General Gary to change camp--to buckle up and mount, and
follow the orderly a half mile to the rear. We were, it seemed, too
near the enemy's line, looking to the contemplated movement.

At the new location--a comfortable piece of piny woods old field--we
finished what we had begun at the other point. At our mess, sleep
seemed to be the great object in view. I went to sleep immediately, my
head on my saddle; woke in about a half hour's time to eat what there
was, and instantly to sleep again; but that was not to be. At about
ten o'clock a quiet order mounted us, almost before, as the little
boys say, we got the "sleep out of our eyes." We were in column on the
road, and non-commissioned officers under the direction of the
adjutant riding down it, each with a handkerchief full of cartridges,
supplying the men with that very necessary "article of war." And then
commenced that most weary night march, that will always be remembered
by the tired men who rode it, that ended only (without a halt, except
a marching one,) at Appomattox Court-house.

The line of retreat had been changed, and by a forced night march on
another road a push was being made for the mountains at Lynchburg. Had
we gotten there (and Appomattox Court-house was within twenty miles of
Lynchburg) with the men and material General Lee still had with him,
Lee's last struggle among the mountains of his native State would have
made a picture to swell the soldier's heart with pride to look upon.
The end