The veterans of Hill and Longstreet
advanced steadily, tramping firm, shoulder to shoulder, with glittering
gun barrels, and faces as resolute and hopeful as at Manassas and
Chancellorsville.
"Those men are not whipped," said a keen observer to me, as he looked
at the closed-up column moving. And he was right. The morale of this
remnant of the great army of Northern Virginia was untouched. Those who
saw them then will testify to the truth of my statement.
At Amelia Court-House a terrible blow, however, awaited them. General
Lee had ordered rations to be sent thither from North Carolina. They
had been sent, but the trains had gone on and disgorged them in
Richmond. When Lee arrived with his starved army, already staggering
and faint, not a pound of bread or meat was found; there was nothing.
Those who saw General Lee at this moment, will remember his expression.
For the first time the shadow of despair passed over that brave
forehead. Some one had, indeed, struck a death-blow at him. His army
was without food. All his plans were reversed. He had intended to
reprovision his force at Amelia, and then push straight on. His plan, I
think I can state, was to attack the detached forces of Grant in his
front; cut his way through there; cross the Nottoway and other streams
by means of pontoons, which had been provided; and, forming a junction
with General Johnston, crush Sherman or retreat into the Gulf States.
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