A Stillness at Appomattox (182 page)

Beaten
and
reeling
in
flight,
the
Rebel
army
was
still
dangerous.
Proof
that
its
men
still
wanted
to
fight
came
this morning
at
the
prisoner-of-war
stockade.
Nearly
5,000
of
the men
captured
at
Five
Forks
were
herded
together
there,
and the
Federal
provost
marshal
had
them
paraded
and
made
a little
speech
to
them,
pointing
out
that
their
cause
was doomed
and
inviting
everyone
to
step
up,
take
the
oath
of allegiance,
and
then
go
home
and
fight
no
more.
Out
of
the 5,000
present,
fewer
than
100
moved
out
to
take
the
oath— and
they
were
bitterly
derided
by
all
the
rest,
who
profanely
denounced
them
as
cowards
and
traitors.
²

So
although
the
grim
Petersburg
trenches
were
empty
and harmless,
and
troops
from
the
Army
of
the
James
were
in Richmond
putting
out
the
fires
that
threatened
to
destroy
the whole
city—the
Confederate
rear
guard
had
fired
arsenals
and storehouses,
and
the
flames
had
got
out
of
hand—nothing
had really
been
settled.
The
Army
of
the
Potomac
had
not
yet brought
its
adversary
to
bay,
and
it
would
have
to
march
long and
fast
to
do
it.

There
were
certain
advantages.
Leaving
Petersburg,
Lee had
gone
north
of
the
Appomattox
River.
Somewhere
above that
river
he
was
picking
up
the
troops
that
had
come
down from
Richmond
and
was
collecting
the
fragments
that
had been
sent
flying
when
Sheridan
took
Five
Forks
and
the
VI Corps
broke
the
Petersburg
line.
With
everybody
assembled, he
would
try
to
join
Joe
Johnston
in
North
Carolina,
and to
do
that
he
would
have
to
go
west
and
south.
The
Army of
the
Potomac
was
nearly
as
far
west
as
he
was,
and
it
was a
good
deal
farther
south.
Properly
handled
it
ought
to
be able
to
head
him
off
because
it
had
a
shorter
distance
to travel.

The
railroads
were
important.
There
were
two
lines
that mattered:
the
familiar
Southside
Railroad,
and
the
Richmond and
Danville,
which
latter
went
slanting
down
into
Joe Johnston's
territory
and
bisected
the
Southside
line
halfway between
Petersburg
and
Lynchburg.
Lee's
quickest
route would
put
him
on
the
Richmond
and
Danville
at
Amelia
Court House,
sixteen
miles
northeast
of
the
point
where
the
two railroads
intersected.

If
the
Federals
moved
west
by
the
shortest
route,
they should
strike
the
Richmond
and
Danville
road
at
or
near
the junction
before
Lee's
people
could
get
down
there
via
Amelia Court
House.
If
that
happened,
it
would
be
impossible
for Lee
to
meet
Johnston.
He
would
have
only
two
alternatives: to
stand
and
make
a
finish
fight
of
it,
a
fight
that
could
end
in but
one
way,
or
to
keep
on
going
west
in
the
hope
that
he could
reach
Lynchburg,
where
he
might
get
supplies
and
win some
sort
of
breathing
space
in
the
wooded
folds
of
the mountains.

So
the
task
was
not
to
overtake
his
army
but
to
get
ahead of
it.
Every
march
was
to
be
a
forced
march.
Sheridan
and his
cavalry
were
leading
the
way.
Meade
and
three
infantry corps
were
following
close
behind,
and
Ord
and
three
divisions
from
the
Army
of
the
James
were
moving
on
parallel roads
just
a
little
farther
south.
The
men
carried
extra
rations, for
there
would
be
no
waiting
for
supply
trains,
and
a
thirty-mile
hike—ordinarily
a
perfect
prodigy
of
a
march—would
Be considered
no
more
than
a
fair
day's
work.
Officers
in
the
V
Corps
called
out
to
the
men:
'Tour
legs
must
do
it,
boys!"
⁸
Spring
had
come,
and
the
world
was
turning
green
and white
and
gold
with
new
leaves
and
blossoms.
The
cramping misery
of
the
trenches
had
been
left
behind,
and
men
’
s
spirits were
so
high
that
even
dogtrotting
along
in
the
wake
of
the cavalry
did
not
seem
a
bad
assignment.
The
rank
and
file
was not
entirely
clear
about
just
what
had
happened,
but
it
was clear
that
the
Johnnies
were
on
the
run
at
last.
Grant
summed it
up
in
a
telegram
to
Sherman:
"This
army
has
now
won
a most
decisive
victory
and
followed
the
enemy.
That
is
all
that it
ever
wanted
to
make
it
as
good
an
army
as
ever
fought
a battle."
⁴