Audubon County journal. (Exira, Iowa) 1884-1993, 1912-03-14
CHAPTER xxxvtI.
The FurIIno Of the ELAN.

The close OF the long and bitter
struggle had come; to those who
had cast their fortunes with the
South 1t seemed almost as the end of
the world. 1 had thought to write Of
those last sad days, to picture them
in all their contrasting light and
shadow, but now l cannot. There
are thoughts too deep for human ut
terance, memories too sacred for the
pen. / rejoice that I was a part of
1t; that to the lowering of the last
tattered battle-flag I remained con-
slant to the best traditions of my
house. I cannot sit here now, beneath
the protecting shadow of a flag for
which my son fought and died, and
write that regret the ending, for
years of peace have taught us of the
South lessons no less valuable than
did the war; yet do l rejoice today
that, having once donned the gray, II
wore it until the last shotted gun
voiced its grim message to the North
1t is hardly more than dream now,
sometimes vague and shadowy, again
distinct with living figures and his.
toric scenes. l require but to close
my eyes to behold once more those
slender lines of ragged, weary, hun
cry men, to whom fighting had be-
come synonymous with life. l pass
again through the fiery rain Of those
last fierce battles, when in despera-
ton we sought to check the I'M
numbered blue legions that fairly
crushed us beneath their weight.
/ saw it all; l held part in it all.
Upon that April day which witnessed
the turning of the last sad page in
this tragedy, 1 stood without the Nc
Lean house, ankle deep in the tram
pied mud of the yard, surrounded by
a group of Federal officers. Within
was my commander, the old gray
hero of Virginia, together with the
great silent soldier of the North.
Few about me spoke as we waited
In restless agony. No one addressed
me, and l think there must have been
a look in my face which held them
dumb.
know not how long waited,
standing beside my horse, with head
half bowed upon his neck, seeing the
!. figures about me as in dream. At
last the door was flung open, and
those within came forth. He was in
advance of them all. In that pale,
stern, kindly face, and within the
depths of those sorrowful gray eyes,
read instantly the truth-the Army
OF Northern Virginia was no more.
Yet with what calm dignity did this
defeated chieftain pass down that
blue lane, his head erect, his eyes
undimmed-as dauntless in that awful
hour of surrender as when he rode
before his cheering legions Of fighting
men. Only as he came to where l
stood, and caught the look of suffer
ing upon my face, did he once falter,
and then noted no more than the
slight twitching of his lips beneath
the short gray beard.
Captain Wayne" he said, with all
his old-time courtesy, 81 shall have
to trouble you to ride to General
Hills division and request him to
cease firing at once"
turned reluctantly away from him,
knowing Iull we'll IN my heart | was
bearing my last order, and rode at a
hard trot down the road between long
lines of waiting Federal infantry.
scarcely so much as saw them, for my
head was bent low over the saddle
pommel, and my eyes were blurred
with tears.
mi.
the dusty roads and fenceless fields.
The air was vocal with blare of trum.
pets and roll of drums, while every.
where the eye rested upon blue lines
and long columns of marching troops.
I formed one Of little gray squad
moving slowly southward-a mere
fragment of the fighting men of the
Confederacy, making their way home.
ward as best they might. AS the