midnight
The wheels of some belated guns rattled dully in the street , passing up the river to join in the retreat . The horsemen supporting it filed by like phantoms , and many of them , weatherbeaten men , shed tears in the darkness . From the river came a dazzling flash followed by a tremendous roar as another boat blew up , and then General Breckinridge , the Secretary of War , and his staff rode over the last bridge , already set on fire , its burning timbers giving them a final salute as they passed . It was now half way between midnight and morning , and blazing Richmond passively awaited its fate . It had been a night of labour and anxiety for Prescott . In the turmoil of the flight he had been forgotten by the President and all others who had the power to give him orders , and he scarcely knew what to do . It was always his intention , an intention shared by his comrades , to resist to the last , and at times he felt like joining the soldiers in their retreat up the river , whence by a circuitous journey he would rejoin General Lee ; but Richmond held him .