every point.
Hood's defeat was complete; he lost his whole artillery--over fifty
pieces--most of his ordnance and many of his supply trains. In the
dreadful retreat that followed, General Forrest's vigorous covering
alone saved the remnant of that devoted army; and on the 23d of
January, 1865--when he had brought them once more into temporary
safety--General Hood issued a farewell order, stating that he was
relieved at his own request.

Gallant, frank and fearless even in adversity, he did not shirk the
responsibility of the campaign; declaring, that disastrous and bitter
as it had been, he had believed it best.

So ended all real resistance in the South and West. The enemy had
gained the back door to Richmond, had shattered its supports and had
marched on to the rear of those strongholds that had so long defied his
power from the sea.

It was but a question of time, when Charleston and Savannah should
fall; and even the most hopeful could see that Virginia was the only
soil on which resistance still walked erect.

Meanwhile, the winter was passing in Richmond in most singular gayety.
Though the hostile lines were so close that the pickets could "chaff"
each other without raising their voices, still both had learned that
direct attacks in front were not practicable; and such was the state of
the roads all around Petersburg, that no movement out of works could be
attempted. Therefore more active fighting had for the moment ceased;
numbers of young officers could get to Richmond, for a few days at a
time; and these came worn and tired from camp and famished for society
and gayety of some sort. And the younger ladies of Richmond--ready as
they ever were to aid and comfort the soldier boys with needle, with
bandage, or with lint--were quite as ready now to do all they could in
plans for mutual pleasure.

They only felt the strain was for the moment remitted; they recked not
that it was to come to-morrow for the final crush; and they enjoyed
to-day with all the recklessness of long restraint.

Parties were of nightly occurrence. Not the brilliant and generous
festivals of the olden days of Richmond, but joyous and gay assemblages
of a hundred young people, who danced as though the music of shells had
never replaced that of the old negro fiddler--who chatted and laughed
as if there were no to-morrow, with its certain skirmish, and its
possible blanket for winding-sheet. For the beaux at these gatherings
were not only