I had taken my last ride in the “low grounds” of the county of Dinwiddie; I was never more to see Disaways, unless something carries me thither in the future. To those hours spent in the old mansion, and with my comrades, near it, I look back now with delight. Days and nights on the Rowanty! how you come back to me in dreams! Happy hours at Disaways, with the cavalry, with the horse artillery! you live still in my memory, and you will live there always! Katy Dare runs to greet me again as in the past--again her blue eyes dance, and the happy winds are blowing her bright curls into ripples! She smiles upon me still--as in that “winter of discontent.” Her cheerful voice again sounds. Her small hands are held out to me. All things go--nothing lingers--but those days on the Rowanty, amid the sunset gilded pines, come back with all their tints, and are fadeless in my memory. Going back thus in thought, to that winter of 1864, I recall the friendly faces of Katy, and all my old comrades--I hear their laughter again, touch their brave hands once more, and salute them, wishing them long life and happiness. “Farewell!” I murmur, “Rowanty, and Sappony, and Disaways! _Bonne fortune!_ old companions, little maiden, and kind friends all! It has not been time lost to gather together my recollections--to live again in the past,--to catch the aroma of those hours when kindness smoothed the front of war! We no longer wear the gray--my mustache only shows it _now_! but, thank heaven! many things in memory survive. I think of these--of the old comrades, the old times. Health and happiness attend you on your way through life, comrades! May the silver spare the gold of your clustering ringlets, Katy! Joy and gladness follow your steps! all friendly stars shine on you! Wherever you are, old friends, may a kind heaven send you its blessing!” XVI. LEE’S LAST GREAT BLOW. I reached Petersburg on the evening of March 24, 1865. The ride was a gay comedy--but a tragedy was about to follow it. On the very next morning, in the gray March dawn, Lee was going to strike his last great blow at Grant. A column under Gordon, that brave of braves, was going to be hurled headlong against Hare’s Hill, the enemy’s centre, just below Petersburg. That design was evidently the result of supreme audacity, or of despair. In either case it indicated the terrible character of the crisis. There could be no two opinions upon that point. Lee aimed at nothing less than to cut General Grant’s army in two--to root himself doggedly in the very centre of his enemies, and to force General Grant to draw back the entire left wing of his army, or run the risk, by holding his position, to have it destroyed.