A Stillness at Appomattox (147 page)

And
now
it
was
late
afternoon,
and
behind
the
piled-up battle
smoke
the
sky
was
streaked
with
crimson
and
pale green
and
yellow
in
a
wild
autumn
sunset.
The
Federal battle
line
was
rolling
at
last,
and
there
was
a
tumult
of artillery
and
musketry
and
cheering
men—and
suddenly
it was
like
the
old
days,
and
there
was
a
color
and
a
shine
and a
drama
to
combat
once
more,
and
if
battle
was
as
terrible
as ever
it
had
at
least
begun
to
sparkle
again.

Now
and
then
as
the
line
advanced
a
check
would
develop somewhere.
Then
one
of
Sheridan's
staff
would
come
up
at a
pounding
gallop,
to
ride
the
length
of
the
line
pointing
with his
naked
saber
at
the
Rebel
battle
line,
all
gesture
and compelling
movement,
saying
never
a
word,
and
the
line would
lunge
forward
again.
To
the
north
could
be
seen Crook's
battle
line—a
whole
army
corps
tramping
along
in perfect
order,
skirmishers
out
in
front,
battle
flags
leaning forward,
the
ranks
closing
faultlessly
as
wounded
men
fell out,
no
one
firing
yet,
every
man
yelling
at
the
top
of
his voice.

Upton
on
his
stretcher
brought
his
brigade
over
to
help Colonel
Thomas
and
Old
Vermont,
and
they
took
the
Rebel position,
chasing
the
Southern
marksmen
out
of
the
wood and
away
from
the
hilltop
they
had
been
holding.
The Vermonters
drew
up
behind
a
stone
wall
to
catch
their breath,
and
suddenly
a
company
officer
gestured
with
his sword
and
cried:
"Boys!
Look
at
that!"

Beyond
the
lower
ground
in
their
front
and
to
their
right, two
or
three
miles
away,
distinct
in
the
clear
sunset
light, they
saw
what
one
man
recalled
as
"a
sight
to
be
remembered a
life-time"—two
divisions
of
Yankee
cavalry
massed
in
solid columns,
drawn
sabers
flashing
in
the
sun
like
streaks
of flame,
thundering
down
at
a
full
gallop
to
strike
the
flank
and rear
of
the
Confederate
line.
Southern
artillery
fired
desperately
to
break
the
charge,
but
the
charge
could
not
be stopped.
The
outflanked
Confederate
line
curled
up,
and
the cavalry
took
guns
and
flags
and
prisoners,
the
squadrons riding
wildly
over
broken
fields
after
fugitive
Confederates.

From
their
hilltop
the
Vermonters
saw
it,
and
they
started forward
again,
and
suddenly
Sheridan
was
riding
ahead
of them,
while
Rebel
bullets
searched
the
dusk.
The
men
saw him
and
cheered
madly,
and
he
swung
his
hat
to
them
and called
back:
"Boys,
this
is
just
what
I
expected!"
¹⁴

Most
of
the
Union
soldiers
who
were
in
that
fight
actually got
a
firsthand,
close-up
view
of
Sheridan
before
the
day ended.
This
was
a
new
thing
for
a
Yankee
army,
since
the commanding
general
was
usually
an
off-stage
presence
rarely seen
in
battle.
Sheridan
seemed
to
appear
from
nowhere,
attended
by
the
solitary
orderly
who
carried
Sheridan's
personal battle
flag—a
little
swallow-tailed
banner,
half
red
and
half white,
bearing
the
two
stars
of
a
major
general.

The
experience
of
the
12th
Connecticut
was
typical.
The regiment
was
drawn
up
in
a
field,
waiting
for
fresh
ammunition,
when
an
officer
rode
up
to
ask
why
they
were
standing there.
While
a
regimental
officer
was
explaining,
a
shell
burst almost
directly
over
the
head
of
the
mounted
man.
He
was unhurt,
and
as
the
smoke
blew
away
he
called
out
to
the men:
"That's
all
right,
boys—no
matter—we
can
lick
'em!" And
up
and
down
the
line
men
passed
the
word:
"That's Sheridan!"
and
they
cheered
and
laughed
and
waved
their caps.
Sheridan
waved,
told
them
to
move
forward
as
soon
as they
got
their
ammunition,
and
then
went
cantering
off.
¹⁵

The
last
Confederate
resistance
ended
and
darkness
came and
the
cavalry
rode
hard
through
Winchester,
storming
at the
Rebel
rear
guard.
Early
got
his
men
and
most
of
his possessions
away
clean,
and
he
was
fully
entitled
to
boast
that he
had
fought
well
against
heavy
odds,
inflicting
more
loss than
he
received
and
balking
his
foe's
attempt
to
cut
off
his retreat
and
destroy
his
army.
It
was
also
true
that
during
the first
half
of
the
day
the
Federal
program
had
been
handled with
an
absolute
minimum
of
skill.
¹⁶
Yet
somehow
these facts
were
not
in
the
least
important.