Grant attacked again at dawn, on the morning of the second of April. It
was Sunday, but no peaceful church-bells disturbed the spring air. The
roar of cannon was heard, instead, hoarse and menacing, in the very
suburbs of the devoted city.
There was no hope now--all was ended--but the Confederate arms were to
snatch a last, and supreme laurel, which time can not wither. Attacked
in Fort Gregg, by General Gibbon, Harris's Mississippi brigade, of two
hundred and fifty men, made one of those struggles which throw their
splendor along the paths of history.
"This handful of skilled marksmen," says a Northern writer, "conducted
the defence with such intrepidity, that Gibbon's forces, surging
repeatedly against it, were each time thrown back."
That is the generous but cold statement of an opponent; but it is
sufficient. It was not until seven o'clock that Gibbon stormed the
fort. Thirty men only out of the two hundred and fifty were left, but
they were still fighting.
In the attack the Federal loss was "about five hundred men," says the
writer above quoted.
So fell Lee's last stronghold on this vital part of his lines. Another
misfortune soon followed. The gallant A.P. Hill, riding ahead of his
men, was fired on and killed, by a small detachment of the enemy whom
he had halted and ordered to surrender.
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