General Grant doubtless saw now that every thing depended upon the celerity of his movements, and, sending in advance his large body of cavalry, he hastened forward as rapidly as possible with his infantry, bent on interposing, if possible, a heavy force in his adversary's front. Lee's movements were equally rapid. He seemed speedily to have regained his old calmness, after the trying disappointment at Amelia Court-House; and those who shared his counsels at this time can testify that the idea of surrender scarcely entered his mind for a moment—or, if it did so, was speedily banished. Under the pressure of circumstances so adverse that they seemed calculated to break down the most stubborn resolution. General Lee did not falter; and throughout the disheartening scenes of the retreat, from the moment when he left Amelia Court-House to the hour when his little column was drawing near Appomattox, still continued to believe that the situation was not desperate, and that he would be able to force his way through to Lynchburg.
On the evening of the 6th, when the army was near Farmville, a sudden attack was made by the Federal cavalry on the trains of the army moving on a parallel road; and the small force of infantry guarding them was broken and scattered. This occurrence took place while General Lee was confronting a body of Federal infantry near Sailor's Creek; and, taking a small brigade, he immediately repaired to the scene of danger. The spectacle which followed was a very striking and imposing one, and is thus described by one who witnessed it: "The scene was one of gloomy picturesqueness and tragic interest. On a plateau raised above the forest from which they had emerged, were the disorganized troops of Ewell and Anderson, gathered in groups, un-officered, and uttering tumultuous exclamations of rage and defiance. Rising above the weary groups which had thrown themselves upon the ground, were the grim barrels of cannon, in battery, ready to fire, as soon as the enemy appeared. In front of all was the still line of battle, just placed by Lee, and waiting calmly. General Lee had rushed his infantry over, just at sunset, leading it in person, his face animated, and his eye brilliant with the soldier's spirit of fight, but his bearing unflurried as before. An artist desiring to paint his picture, ought to have seen the old cavalier at this moment, sweeping on upon his large iron-gray, whose mane and tail floated in the wind; carrying his field-glass half-raised in his right hand; with head erect, gestures animated, and in the whole face and form the expression of the hunter close upon his game. The line once interposed, he rode in the twilight among the disordered groups above mentioned, and the sight of him aroused a tumult. Fierce cries resounded on all sides, and, with hands clinched violently and raised aloft, the men called on him to lead them against the enemy. 'It's General Lee!' 'Uncle Robert!' 'Where's the man who won't follow Uncle Robert?' I heard on all sides—the swarthy faces full of dirt and courage, lit up every instant by the glare of the burning wagons. Altogether, the scene was indescribable."
On the 7th the army pressed on beyond Farmville, still harassed as it advanced by the Federal infantry and cavalry; but, in some of these encounters, the pursuing force met with what was probably a very unexpected discomfiture. General Fitz Lee, bringing up the rear of the army with his force of about fifteen hundred cavalry on broken-down horses, succeeded not only in repulsing the attacks of the large and excellently-mounted force under General Sheridan, but achieved over them highly-honorable successes. One such incident took place on the 7th, when General Gregg attacked with about six thousand horse, but was met, defeated, and captured by General Fitz Lee, to the great satisfaction of General Lee, who said to his son, General W.H.F. Lee:
"Keep your command together and in good spirits, general—don't let them think of surrender—I will get you out of this."
On the 8th and 9th, however, this hope seemed unwarranted by the circumstances, and the commander-in-chief appeared to be almost the only human being who remained sanguine of the result. The hardships of the retreat, arising chiefly from want of food, began to seriously impair the resolution of the troops, and the scenes through which they advanced were not calculated to raise their spirits. "These scenes," declares one who witnessed them, "were of a nature which can be apprehended only by men who are thoroughly familiar with the harrowing details of war. Behind and on either flank, a ubiquitous and increasingly adventurous enemy—every mud-hole and every rise in the road choked with blazing wagons—the air filled with the deafening reports of ammunition exploding, and shells bursting when touched by the flames, dense columns of smoke ascending to heaven from the burning and exploding vehicles, exhausted men, worn-out mules and horses, lying down side by side—gaunt Famine glaring hopelessly from sunken, lack-lustre eyes—dead mules, dead horses, dead men everywhere—death many times welcomed as God's messenger in disguise—who can wonder if many hearts, tried in the fiery furnace of four unparalleled years, and never hitherto found wanting, should have quailed in presence of starvation, fatigue, sleeplessness, misery, unintermitted for five or six days, and culminating in hopelessness?" It cannot, however, be said with truth, that any considerable portion of the Southern forces were greatly demoralized, to use the military phrase, as the fighting of the last two days, when the suffering of the retreat culminated, will show. The men were almost entirely without food, and were glad to find a little corn to eat; but those who were not physically unable longer to carry their muskets—and the number of these latter was large—still marched and fought with soldierly cheerfulness and resolution.
General Lee's spirits do not seem at any time to have flagged, and up to a late period of the retreat he had not seriously contemplated surrender. The necessity for this painful course came home to his corps commanders first, and they requested General Pendleton, the efficient chief of artillery of the army, to inform General Lee that in their opinion further struggle was hopeless. General Pendleton informed General Lee of this opinion of his officers, and it seemed to communicate something like a shock to him.
"Surrender!" he exclaimed with a flash of the eye, "I have too many good fighting-men for that!"
Nevertheless, the necessity of seriously contemplating this result was soon forced upon him. Since the morning of the 7th, a correspondence had taken place between himself and General Grant; and, as these notes are interesting, we here present those which were exchanged up to the night of the 8th:
April 7, 1865.
General R.E. Lee, commanding C.S.A.: