All this time a large force of the enemy, both infantry and cavalry, had marched rapidly by parallel roads, and had gotten between General Lee and Lynchburg, then his only depot of supplies, had captured all the trains with provisions sent out from that city to meet his army, then on the verge of starvation, and on the morning of April 8th, near Appomattox Court House, suddenly attacked his ordnance train, which in advance of the whole army was pressing on towards Lynchburg, guarded only by one small brigade of cavalry. But notwithstanding the great disparity of forces, a severe fight was kept up nearly an hour, the artillery particularly being well and effectually served, and drove back the enemy in front. The infantry and dismounted cavalry, however, now completely surrounded and drove the men from their guns, and captured all the artillery and wagons, which left General Lee almost destitute of both. Some few artillerists escaped on their horses, and fled down the road towards the infantry, followed by a column of cavalry. But the infantry was prepared for their approach, and permitting the flying artillerists to pass, they poured in a most deadly volley, which scattered the pursuers in all directions.
For the balance of the night all remained quiet, and the two armies anxiously awaited the coming of the morrow, which must decide the fate of the army of Northern Virginia. Further retreat was impossible as the enemy held the roads on all sides, and without rations, cannon or ammunition to supply even the wants of twelve thousand men now left General Lee, he, on the morning of the 9th of April, confronted Grant’s mighty host. All the difficulties of the position were well known and appreciated by the Confederate army, but the men who formed that army then, who had followed their flag through all the gloom and trials of the retreat—a retreat which needs only the pen of a Xenophon to make as famous as that of the “Ten Thousand”—those men, though not of numbers, but of country, in the dawn of that April morning advanced to meet their persistent foe with all the calm and lofty courage that would have made Appomattox Court House a Thermopylæ. Those men, had their leader so willed it, would have laid down their arms and lives together. They were men indeed, and worthy to close the record of the army of Northern Virginia.
As soon as the day gave sufficient light, the battle opened fiercely, and all thought an engagement had commenced which was to prove the most desperate and terrible of the war.
General Fitz. Lee’s division of cavalry, now under command of Brigadier General Munford, (General Fitz. Lee being at the headquarters of the army) moved through Appomattox Court House, and formed in line of battle on the right of the road about half a mile beyond that place. The halt was brief, and it moved in column obliquely to the right and entered a heavy wood, where it soon came in contact with the enemy.
Throwing out skirmishers to engage them, General Munford moved again to the right oblique until they were again struck, when more skirmishers were thrown out, the first having fallen in the rear, and these movements were continued until he found a weaker place in the enemy’s line, and made good his passage to the Lynchburg road.
Nothing was known positively. The sounds of a severe fight were plainly heard, and those movements of the cavalry excited much surprise and comment among the men and officers composing the division.
At first it was thought that the intention was to get in the enemy’s rear and charge him while engaged in front by the infantry, which opinion was much strengthened by a near approach to a battery of the enemy’s in full action against General Lee’s infantry, but another detour proved its fallacy, and all were lost in conjecture until the Lynchburg road was reached, when it became evident that the immediate object of the movement was to reach that road, as the division at once halted and formed on each side. From this point the masses of Grant’s army were plainly visible, standing as if on dress parade.
The firing had now ceased, and surprise at what seemed unaccountable movements gave place to alarm. Surrender of the army was whispered, but was heard with indignation by many who would not acknowledge their own fears to themselves, and all comment was unheeded, and by general consent it was determined to await events in silence. We could see, indeed, on the bronzed countenances of those veterans an anxiety too deep for words.
The First Maryland happened to be nearest to the road and to the enemy, the men dismounted, but standing to horse—the usual precaution of skirmishers in front having been, of course, observed.
Everything was still. Not a sound betrayed the presence of the hosts of armed men in the vicinity, and but for the long lines of blue in sight upon the hills in front, all might have been taken for a hideous dream.