Part 8 (1/2)

It was not many minutes before a strong line of dismounted cavalry, followed by mounted men, deployed from this ma.s.s to cover the retreat of their fleeing brethren, and restore the picket line. They came down the hills and across the fields, firing as they came. On looking around to see what were the chances for making a stand, Lieutenant McRae found that the infantry skirmishers had been withdrawn. The officer who had commanded them could be seen galloping away in the distance. The little squad, knowing they were alone, kept up a brisk fire on the advancing enemy, till he was close up in front, and well to the rear of both flanks. On the left, not more than two hundred yards, a column of cavalry, marching by twos, had crossed the line and were still marching, as unconcernedly as possible, to the rear of McRae. Seeing this, McRae ordered his squad to retire, saying at the same time, ”But don't let them see you running, boys!”

So they retired, slowly, stubbornly, and returning shot for shot with the enemy, who came on at a trot, cheering valiantly, as they pursued four men and a lieutenant. The men dragged the b.u.t.ts of their old muskets behind them, loading as they walked. All loaded, they turned, halted, fired, received a shower of b.a.l.l.s in return, and then again moved doggedly to the rear. A little lieutenant of infantry, who had been on the skirmish line, joined the squad. He was armed with a revolver, and had his sword by his side. Stopping behind the corner of a corn-crib he swore he would not go any further to the rear. The squad moved on and left him standing there, pistol in hand, waiting for the enemy, who were now jumping the fences and coming across the field, running at the top of their speed. What became of this singular man no one knows. He was, as he said, ”determined to make a stand.” A little further on the squad found a single piece of artillery, manned by a lieutenant and two or three men. They were selecting individuals in the enemy's skirmish line, and _firing at them with solid shot_! Lieutenant McRae laughed at the ridiculous sight, remonstrated with the officer, and offered his squad to serve the gun, if there was any canister in the limber chest. The offer was refused, and again the squad moved on.

Pa.s.sing a cow-shed about this time, the squad halted to look with horror upon several dead and wounded Confederates who lay there upon the manure pile. They had suffered wounds and death upon this the last day of their country's struggle. Their wounds had received no attention, and those living were famished and burning with fever.

Lieutenant McRae, noticing a number of wagons and guns parked in a field near by, surprised at what he considered great carelessness in the immediate presence of the enemy, approached an officer on horseback and said, in his usual impressive manner, ”I say there, what does this mean?” The man took his hand and quietly said, ”We have surrendered.” ”I don't believe it, sir!” replied McRae, strutting around as mad as a hornet. ”You mustn't talk so, sir! you will demoralize my men!” He was soon convinced, however, by seeing Yankee cavalrymen walking their horses around as composedly as though the Army of Northern Virginia had never existed. To say that McRae was surprised, disgusted, indignant, and incredulous, is a mild way of expressing his state of mind as he turned to his squad and said, ”Well, boys, it must be so, _but it's very strange behavior_. Let's move on and see about it.” As though dreaming, the squad and the disgusted officer moved on.

Learning that the army had gone into camp, the skirmishers went on in the direction of the village, and found the battalion in the woods near the main road. Fires were burning, and those who had been fortunate enough to find anything eatable were cooking. Federal troops were riding up and down the road and loafing about the camps trying to be familiar.

They seemed to think that ”How are you, Johnny?” spoken in condescending style, was sufficient introduction.

During the day a line of men came single file over the hill near the camp, each bearing on his shoulder a box of ”hardtack” or crackers.

Behind these came a beef, driven by soldiers. The crackers and beef were a present from the Federal troops near, who, knowing the famis.h.i.+ng condition of the surrounded army, had contributed their day's rations for its relief. All honor to them. It was a soldierly act which was thoroughly appreciated.

The beef was immediately shot and butchered, and before the animal heat had left the meat, it was impaled in little strips on sticks, bayonets, swords, and pocket-knives, and roasting over the fires.

Though numbers of the enemy visited the camps and plied the men with all sorts of questions, seeming very curious and inquisitive, not an unkind word was said on either side that day. When the skirmishers under McRae entered the camp of the battalion, their enthusiastic descriptions of driving the enemy and being driven in turn failed to produce any effect.

Many of the men were sobbing and crying, like children recovering from convulsions of grief after a severe whipping. They were sorely grieved, mortified, and humiliated. Of course they had not the slightest conception of the numbers of the enemy who surrounded them.

Other men fairly raved with indignation, and declared their desire to escape or die in the attempt; but not a man was heard to blame General Lee. On the contrary, all expressed the greatest sympathy for him and declared their willingness to submit at once, or fight to the last man, as he ordered. At no period of the war was he held in higher veneration or regarded with more sincere affection, than on that sad and tearful day.

In the afternoon the little remnant of the army was ma.s.sed in a field.

General Gordon spoke to them most eloquently, and bade them farewell.

General Walker addressed his division, to which Cutshaw's battalion was attached, bidding them farewell. In the course of his remarks he denounced fiercely the men who had thrown down their arms on the march, and called upon the true men before him to go home and tell their wives, mothers, sisters, and sweethearts how shamefully these cowards had behaved.

General Henry A. Wise also spoke, sitting on his horse and bending forward over the pommel of his saddle. Referring to the surrender, he said, ”I would rather have embraced the tabernacle of death.”

There were many heaving bosoms and tear-stained faces during the speaking. A tall, manly fellow, with his colors pressed to his side, stood near General Gordon, convulsed with grief.

The speaking over, the a.s.sembly dispersed, and once more the camp-fires burned brightly. Night brought long-needed rest. The heroes of many hard-fought battles, the conquerors of human nature's cravings, the brave old army, fell asleep--securely guarded by the encircling hosts of the enemy. Who will write the history of that march? Who will be able to tell the story? Alas! how many heroes fell!

The paroles, which were distributed on Tuesday, the 11th, were printed on paper about the size of an ordinary bank check, with blank s.p.a.ces for the date, name of the prisoner, company, and regiment, and signature of the commandant of the company or regiment. They were signed by the Confederate officers themselves, and were as much respected by all picket officers, patrols, etc., of the Federal army as though they bore the signature of U. S. Grant. The following is a copy of one of these paroles, recently made from the original:

APPOMATTOX COURT HOUSE, VIRGINIA, _April 10, 1865_.

The bearer, Private ---- ----, of Second Company Howitzers, Cutshaw's Battalion, a paroled prisoner of the Army of Northern Virginia, has permission to go to his home and there remain undisturbed.

L.F. JONES, _Captain Commanding Second Company Howitzers_.

The ”guidon,” or color-bearer, of the Howitzers had concealed the battle flag of the company about his person, and before the final separation cut it into pieces of about four by six inches, giving each man present a piece. Many of these sc.r.a.ps of faded silk are still preserved, and will be handed down to future generations. Captain Fry, who commanded after Colonel Cutshaw was wounded, a.s.sembled the battalion, thanked the men for their faithfulness, bid them farewell, and read the following:--

HEADQUARTERS ARMY NORTHERN VIRGINIA, APPOMATTOX COURT HOUSE, _April 10, 1865_.

GENERAL ORDER NO. 9.

After four years of arduous service, marked by unsurpa.s.sed courage and fort.i.tude, the Army of Northern Virginia has been compelled to yield to overwhelming numbers and resources.

I need not tell the brave survivors of so many hard-fought battles, who have remained steadfast to the last, that I have consented to this result from no distrust of them; but feeling that valor and devotion could accomplish nothing that would compensate for the loss that must have attended a continuance of the contest, I determined to avoid the useless sacrifice of those whose past services have endeared them to their countrymen.

By the terms of agreement, officers and men can return to their homes and remain until exchanged. You will take with you the satisfaction that proceeds from the consciousness of duty faithfully performed, and I earnestly pray that a merciful G.o.d will extend to you his blessing and protection.