A Stillness at Appomattox (152 page)

So
the
army
moved.
Very
early
on
the
shivery,
misty
dawn of
October
19,
with
fog
hanging
in
the
low
places
and
the darkness
lying
thick
in
the
graveyard
hour
between
moon-set
and
dawn,
the
Confederates
rose
up
out
of
the
gorge
and came
in
yelling
and
shooting
on
the
drowsy
flank
of
Sheridan's
army.

The
day
before,
certain
election
commissioners
from
Connecticut
had
come
into
the
Yankee
lines
to
take
the
presidential
vote
of
Connecticut
soldiers,
and
they
remained
in
camp overnight
as
special
headquarters
guests.
They
liked
what they
saw
of
army
life,
and
to
their
hosts
at
supper
they
expressed
regret
that
they
could
not
see
a
fight
before
they went
home.
The
officers
who
were
entertaining
them
said they
would
like
to
accommodate
them,
but
there
just
wasn't a
chance:
"it
seemed
very
certain
that
Early
would
keep
at
a respectful
distance."
¹⁴

So
here
before
reveille
there
was
a
popping
and
a
racket off
at
the
extreme
left,
and
while
nobody
imagined
it
was anything
except
some
little
picket-line
tussle
there
was
a
general
stir
in
the
Union
camp,
and
the
veterans
began
to
cook breakfast
on
the
theory
that
whether
this
was
a
false
alarm
or the
real
thing
it
would
do
no
harm
to
eat
and
be
ready.
Then, suddenly,
artillery
began
to
pound,
the
infantry
firing
became
sustained
and
intense,
and
a
wild
uproar
came
through the
dark
mist—and
the
election
commissioners
quickly
found their
clothes
and
ballot
boxes
and
horses
and
took
off
for
the North
just
as
fast
as
they
could
go.
¹⁵

Crook's
corps
was
crumpled
up
in
a
twinkling,
with
Rebels coming
in
from
the
left
and
rear
before
the
men
even
had time
to
grab
their
muskets.
The
corps
had
seven
guns
in
line, and
these
were
captured
before
they
could
fire
a
shot—to
be spun
about
immediately
by
their
captors
and
fired
through the
confusing
mist
into
the
middle
of
the
Yankee
camp. Crook
commanded
about
7,000
infantry
that
day,
and
in
a matter
of
minutes
those
who
had
not
been
shot
or
captured were
running
for
the
rear,
all
7,000
of
them.
For
the
next twenty-four
hours,
that
corps
did
not
exist
as
a
usable
military
instrument.

Almost
before
the
rest
of
the
army
realized
that
an
attack was
being
made,
Confederate
Gordon
had
his
infantry
on
the hill
where
Sheridan's
headquarters
had
been—which
meant that
he
was
in
rear
of
the
entire
army
and
that
the
men
of Emory's
and
Wright's
corps,
who
had
as
yet
seen
no
Rebels, could
do
nothing
on
earth
except
retreat
as
speedily
as
possible.
The
surprise
could
not
have
been
more
complete.

General
Wright
came
up
from
his
own
quarters,
working to
get
troops
over
to
the
Valley
Pike
and
check
the
rout.
One of
the
men
who
went
with
him
wrote
that
nothing
was
left of
Crook's
corps
except
"a
disorganized,
routed,
demoralized, terrified
mob
of
fugitives,"
and
he
sketched
"the
universal confusion
and
dismay"
along
the
turnpike:

"Wagons
and
ambulances
lumbering
hither
and
thither
in disorder;
pack
horses
led
by
frightened
bummers,
or
wandering
at
their
own
free
will;
crowds
of
officers
and
men,
some shod
and
some
barefoot,
many
of
them
coatless
and
hatless, with
and
without
their
rifles,
but
all
rushing
wildly
to
the rear;
oaths
and
blows
alike
powerless
to
halt
them;
a
cavalry regiment
stretched
across
the
field,
unable
to
stem
the torrent."
¹⁶

Wright
was
in
the
middle
of
it,
bareheaded,
his
beard
all clotted
with
blood
from
a
wound
under
the
chin.
He
got
the 2nd
Connecticut
heavies
into
line
on
a
slope
overlooking
the highway,
and
as
the
men
lay
down
to
fire
the
sun
came
up and
they
found
themselves
looking
directly
into
it,
unable
to see
the
Rebels,
who
were
firing
steadily:
"We
could
see
nothing
but
that
enormous
disk,
rising
out
of
the
fog,
while
they could
see
every
man
in
our
line
and
could
take
good
aim." The
fog
thinned,
and
more
Confederates
came
in
on
the
left and
rear,
and
the
regiment
had
to
retreat,
retreat
turning quickly
into
a
rout.
General
Emory
brought
over
a
brigade and
sent
it
straight
up
the
turnpike
to
break
the
Rebel
charge and
give
time
for
a
rally.