I will stay, whatever comes, until I am
relieved by the same authority which posted me." And with the bow of a
nobleman, the gray-haired statesman bade me farewell.
I returned to my lodgings, buried in thought, pondering deeply on the
strange scenes of this night of December.
On the next morning I set out, and rejoined the army at Petersburg.
I, too, was a sentinel on post, like the statesman. And I determined to
remain on duty to the last.
IX.
TO AND FRO IN THE SPRING OF '65.
The months of January and February, 1865, dragged on, sombre and
dreary.
Two or three expeditions which I made during that woeful period, gave
me a good idea of the condition of the country.
In September, 1864, I had traversed Virginia from Petersburg to
Winchester, and had found the people--especially those of the lower
Shenandoah Valley--still hopeful, brave, resolved to resist to the
death.
In January and February, 1865, my official duties carried me to the
region around Staunton; to the mountains west of Lynchburg; and to the
North Carolina border, south of Petersburg. All had changed. Everywhere
I found the people looking blank, hopeless, and utterly discouraged.
The shadow of the approaching woe seemed to have already fallen upon
them.
The army was as "game" as ever--even Early's little handful, soon to be
struck and dispersed by General Sheridan's ten thousand cavalry.
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