we passed through
Charlottesville we came near being mobbed for telling the news from the
army. You had better go on and find out for yourselves." Soon after this
we met a colonel leading about 40 cavalrymen. By this time we began to
feel that something was wrong. The colonel halted his men and frankly
told us that it was a fact that Lee had surrendered his army. He stated
that some of the cavalry had escaped and they were making their way
toward their homes, and advised us to do the same. The colonel and his
men moved on, and we halted for an hour in the road discussing the
situation and trying to determine what to do. We were not prepared to
act upon the evidence that we had had regarding the surrender, but were
willing to admit that it might be true. One fellow from Company F,
riding a gray horse, rose in his stirrups, and lifting his clinched hand
high above his head, said, "If Gen. Lee has had to surrender his army,
there is not a just God in Heaven."

Finally we decided to cross the mountains into the Virginia Valley and
tarry in the vicinity of Staunton and await further tidings. I made a
bee-line for my brother Gerard's. The others scattered here and there.
After remaining a few days at my brother's I started, in company with
six or eight others, who were from the lower end of the valley,
principally Clark county, for my home in Loudoun, with no definite idea
as to what I should do before I got there. In fact, the others were in
the same frame of mind.

We had heard and read the proclamation that all Confederate soldiers who
would surrender their arms and take the oath of allegiance to the U.S.
Government (except a certain grade of officers) would be allowed to go
to their homes and not be molested, but we had not yet come to the point
of surrendering.

We moved on down the valley pike, noting as we went the terrible havoc
the war had made, commenting on what we called Jackson's mileposts, viz.
the skeletons of horses that had fallen by the way. They were, however,
too thick to be called mileposts, but that is what we called them.

A little below Woodstock, I think it was, we saw on a hill, standing in
the middle of the road facing us, two sentinels on horseback. They were
Yankee pickets. I think there were eight of us. We halted. Someone said,
"Well, boys, what are we going to do? We can't pass these pickets. Shall
we surrender?" I guess we stood there for an hour. We were all mounted.
Finally a young fello