Page:Southern Historical Society Papers volume 14.djvu/567

 Campaign of 1864 and 1865. 561

retreat, crossiiijj;- to the north side of the Appomattox river. My di- vision, which was rear-guard that night, and almost continuously during our arduous and trying retreat, crossed on a pontoon bridge about ri o'clock, after which it was destroyed. We marched all night and next day and most of the following night, reaching Amelia Courthouse the next morning before noon. The suffering of my division throughout this whole retreat for the want of rations was peculiarly great. We had left the north side hurriedly with nothing to eat, expecting to be supplied next day from our wagons or from the stores at Petersburg. But our wagons took a different road, and we first saw them again, or what was left of them, at Appomattox Courthouse. In the emergency and confusion at Petersburg there was no chance to obtain supplies, consequently we left with nothing. At Farmville rations were issued to the army, but, being rear- guard, the supply was issued out almost before we arrived. We had a pre- carious existence by now and then gathering in a few hogs or cows. Yet the spirits of my brave fellows never flagged for a moment. Their organization and discipline was perfect ; there was not a strag- gler; they were as full of fight and pluck as they were the morning of the Wilderness, and I surrendered near five thousand muskets, rather more than I left Petersburg with, for the sick and convalescent had quitted the hospitals and shouldered their muskets.

At Amelia Courthouse, Jetersville, Rice's station, and near Farm- ville, I skirmished with the enemy, sometimes very heavily. At the last named place the enemy attempted to turn Mahone's flank, he being on my left. Going quickly to his assistance with two bri- gades — Bratton's and Anderson's — we drove the enemy back, and captured about seven hundred prisoners. This was the last shot fired by my division during the war; and it is a little remarkable that at the close of this, our last skirmish, my Inspector General, Major L. Masters, who had been with me from the very beginning of the war till that present time, two days of its close, and had passed through the battles of four years without a scratch, should have fallen into my arms dead, shot through the heart.

Major Masters was a Virginian, a lawyer of reputation, a valuable officer, and a most estimable gentleman. That he might give all possible aid to his loved South, he refused all pay for his services in her cause. His death was a sad blow to me. It is unnecessary to speak of what occurred two days afterwards at Appomattox Court- house, except to say that my division, like myself, was unprepared for such a result. We were still bringing up the rear, the head of