Col. Kellogg, who had been hoping all along that the army would come to his rescue, now saw there was no use longer to resist, and ordered the line to fall back slowly and in as good order as possible, thinking that some of the command, at least, might escape through the woods. But as soon as they saw our line breaking back, they swooped down upon us in great force, and in few moments both regiments were prisoners. We lost a good many men in this engagement. Capt. Randolph was shot through the breast by a cavalryman, after having surrendered. This gallant little fight of these two regiments received honorable mention by Gen. Grant, in his report of the war. He says that their brave and stubborn resistance at this point, checked Lee’s retreat long enough to enable Gen. Ord to get up with his main force, compelling Lee to intrench himself, thus causing great delay in the enemy’s movements. The regiment, or so many of them as did not make their escape after their capture, remained prisoners until Lee’s surrender at Appomattox Court House—a period of two days—but time enough for the Rebels to “go through” our boys, stripping them of everything valuable, taking even their hats and shoes. In striking contrast to the treatment they received at our hands after their surrender, when scarcely a Reb was allowed to start on his homeward tramp without a well-filled haversack and canteen. The regiment at once came back to the division, but in the treaty agreed upon, being counted as paroled prisoners, were ordered to report at Parole Camp, Annapolis as such. The Rebel Army of Northern Virginia had surrendered. And on that quiet Sabbath evening as the lightning flashed the intelligence from city to hamlet, the church bells rang out the glad tidings over the free North, and the Nation thanked the God of battles that the end for which we had suffered and struggled so long, had come. For four long years had these two mighty armies met in conflict and contested for the mastery. Their dead lie all along the valley from the Potomac to Lynchburg; they are sleeping where they fell, at Antietam and Gettysburg, on the heights of Fredericksburgh, and through the dark thickets of the Wilderness. They lie in the dark forests’ of the Peninsula all the way up to Deep Bottom, and around Petersburg. Along the tangled morass near Hatcher’s Run, and the Weldon Road, their graves mark the fierce conflict. Brave Old Army of the Potomac, long suffering, gallantly fighting, your reward has come; never again will the boasted army of Northern Virginia meet you in equal conflict; yours is the victory and “fairly won.” CHAPTER IX. FROM HATCHER’S RUN TO THE MUSTER-OUT.