Sunday morning, April 9th, 1865, Lee made a last and desperate attempt to escape by cutting his way through the lines of the cavalry. We broke camp after only two hours rest, and after three hours of forced marching in the direction of brisk artillery firing, came up to the right and rear of the cavalry, who had been pressed back for some distance by Lee’s attack. At the sight of the bayonets of our approaching corps the Confederates ceased their attempt, and withdrew to their lines of the morning.
It was the good fortune of the 32d Regiment to be that day at the head of the column. The day was fine but not uncomfortably warm; the men in the best of spirits, fully imbued with the feeling that the end was near. In this our last fight the conditions were unusually favorable for infantry movements, the country rolling but open, and covered with grassy turf.
A change of direction to the right brought us out of the road and into an open field of pasture-land which rose before us on a gentle slope for nearly half a mile. Entering this field, and without a halt, the Regiment formed column of companies, then formed divisions, and then deployed on the rear division. No battalion movement was ever executed more precisely or with lines better dressed. Waiting a moment for the other regiments of the brigade to complete their formation, we saw before us the swell of land on which we stood, and beyond, on higher ground, the enemy’s artillery, with infantry supports, in line of battle. It was a glorious sight—the beauty of the spring morning—the gentle movement of the air—the rich garniture of green which everywhere clad the view—all were exhilarating, while the universal conviction that the enemy, now in full sight, was also within our power, inspired the men with such enthusiasm as made every man to feel himself invincible.
Soon came the order, “Forward.” The colors never came more promptly to the front, and the right and left general guides fairly sprang to their positions. The enemy being in full sight no skirmishers preceded us. The advance was made under a sharp artillery fire, the men stepping out with a full thirty-six inch stride. The enemy’s front line was slowly falling back. At the summit of the rising ground, where we received a few stray rifle shots, we could see that the ground fell off for perhaps six hundred yards, to where a little stream—one of the head waters of the Appomattox—ran winding along. Here, just as we expected to receive the volleys of the enemy, his firing suddenly ceased, and a halt was ordered.
Colonel Cunningham, through his field-glass, seeing what seemed to be a flag of truce in our front, took the adjutant with him, and, putting spurs to their horses, they dashed forward, and soon met a mounted officer attended by an orderly, bearing a small white flag upon a staff. This officer announced himself as one of General Lee’s staff, and said that he was the bearer of a message to General Grant with a view to surrender. The flag was duly reported, and very soon an officer representing General Grant appeared, and the colonel and adjutant retired.
Soon the expected surrender of Lee was known through all our lines, and the hearts of all were joyous and gay—perfectly so, except for a shade of regret that we could not have finished a fight which promised so well for us.
The two commanding generals met about eleven o’clock in a small house a little way off to our right and front. Our corps was in line by divisions closed in mass, the orders being to keep the men well in hand; but the general talk was that the war was over, and that we should soon turn the heads of our columns north.
At 2.30 P. M. we knew that the surrender was a fact, and that it would be officially promulgated at 4 P. M.
Meantime was a season of general and heartfelt mutual congratulations, during which it was noticed that General Gregory’s brigade was forming square, off on the near hillside, and several officers of our brigade mounted and rode over to see what was going on.
Brigadier-General Gregory had a gift for prayer and speech, and also a resonant voice. From the centre of his square he made a rousing good speech of congratulation, and then, calling to prayer, commenced a hearty thanksgiving to God for the success which had attended our arms, and for the reasonable hope of an early return to peaceful homes.