A Stillness at Appomattox (112 page)

But
the
road
out
of
Egypt
was
long,
and
black
men
who were
coming
up
to
the
unparted
deep-sea
waters
looked ahead
and
made
up
a
little
campfire
song
to
tell
how
they felt
about
it:

For
death
is
a
simple
ting,

And
he
go
from
door
to
door,

And
he
knock
down
some
and
he
cripple
up
some

And
he
leave
some
here
to
pray.
³²

3
Like the Noise of Great Thunders

The
ridge
behind
the
Confederate
trenches
was
not
very high,
and
its
slope
was
gentle
and
grassy,
with
dips
and hollows
here
and
there,
and
occasional
clumps
of
trees.
It lay
naked
under
the
July
sun,
and
no
one
had
ever
climbed it
(except
for
a
few
Confederate
artillerists,
who
had
parked some
guns
in
the
Jerusalem
Plank
Road),
and
it
was
like
a mocking
challenge
to
the
Federal
soldiers.
If
they
could once
reach
the
crest
of
that
ridge,
the
war
was
over,
for
if they
stood
there
they
would
be
in
rear
of
the
entire
Confederate
line,
and
they
would
control
Petersburg
and
everything that
was
in
it,
which
meant
that
they
could
certainly
capture Richmond
and
could
probably
destroy
Lee's
army.
The
crest was
less
than
half
a
mile
from
the
Union
line,
and
between the
crest
and
the
Army
of
the
Potomac
there
was
nothing
in particular
except
the
Confederate
trench
which
was
about to
be
blown
sky-high.

The
Pennsylvania
miners
had
brought
the
end
of
the
war within
whispering
distance.
Never
before
had
there
been
a chance
like
this.
A
trench
properly
built
and
manned
by
a sufficiency
of
Southern
riflemen
and
gunners
could
never
be stormed,
and
by
now
everybody
knew
it;
but
if
the
trench and
everyone
in
it
could
suddenly
be
obliterated
the
case would
be
very
different,
and
if
this
business
were
handled right
men
could
walk
through
and
take
the
crest.

Grant
finally
saw
it,
and
while
he
had
certain
doubts
about this
stunt
of
Burnside's,
he
was
determined
that
it
must
at least
be
given
a
fair
chance.
He
was
commander
of
all
the armies
of
the
United
States
and
he
was
not
directly
responsible
for
the
tactics
involved
in
an
assault
along
half
a
mile of
one
front,
but
if
strategy
could
insure
success
of
this
attack
he
proposed
to
use
it,
and
so
he
laid
a
plan.

North
of
the
James
River,
squarely
in
front
of
Richmond, there
were
miles
of
Confederate
trenches
held
by
a
thin string
of
cavalry
pickets.
Potentially,
this
was
the
most
sen
sitive
part
of
Lee's
entire
line,
and
a
Union
attack
there
was certain
to
pull
Confederate
strength
into
the
area
just
as
fast as
Lee
could
get
it
there.
When
Grant
thought
about
ways to
help
Burnside's
assault
his
mind
naturally
turned
to
those empty
fortifications
north
of
the
river.

His
plan
was
simple.
He
would
send
Hancock
and
the
II Corps
north
of
the
James,
accompanied
by
Sheridan
and
the cavalry.
They
would
cross
the
Appomattox
below
Petersburg, march
north
back
of
Butler's
lines,
and
cross
the
James
by
a new
pontoon
bridge
at
a
place
called
Deep
Bottom,
and
it would
not
hurt
in
the
least
if
Lee
saw
them
going.
Presumably,
Lee
would
take
troops
from
the
Petersburg
lines
to meet
this
threat.
If
Hancock
and
Sheridan
could
actually break
the
lines
in
front
of
Richmond,
that
of
course
would be
all
to
the
good.
If
they
could
not
it
would
probably
be
because
Lee
had
reduced
strength
in
front
of
Petersburg
in
order
to
hold
in
front
of
Richmond.
In
that
case
Burnside's chance
of
success
would
be
just
so
much
better.
¹

So
Grant
planned
and
so
it
was
ordered,
and
on
the
evening
of
July
26
the
II
Corps
took
the
road
north.
The
column got
to
the
Appomattox
bridge
around
midnight,
and
a
newspaper
correspondent
on
the
north
side
of
the
river
watched, fascinated,
as
the
line
of
march
wound
past
a
huge
bonfire which
had
been
lit
to
show
the
way.
The
men
came
up
out of
the
dark,
passed
through
the
pool
of
wavering
fight,
and moved
on
into
more
darkness,
marching
steadily
for
the James
River
crossing,
silent
enough
except
when
some
brigade
staff
rode
by
with
a
jingling
of
scabbards
and
other equipment.
Batteries
rolled
by
now
and
then,
firelight
gleaming
off
the
polished
guns,
and
the
reporter
sat
and
watched for
two
hours,
bemused
by
"that
flow
of
men,
like
a
river, passing,
still
passing,
but
never
passed."
²