A Stillness at Appomattox (154 page)

The
day
of
October
19
began
as
usual
for
these
troopers, with
"Boots
and
Saddles"
sounding
before
sunrise.
As
the men
fed
their
horses
and
got
their
own
breakfasts
they
could hear
the
mutter
of
gunfire,
far
to
the
south.
Nobody
thought much
about
it,
since
the
word
was
that
Wright
was
going
to make
a
reconnaissance
in
force
that
morning
to
find
out
just where
the
Rebel
army
was,
and
it
was
assumed
that
that
was the
cause
of
the
firing.
The
men
finished
their
meal
and
stood by,
waiting
for
the
general.

Sheridan
rode
out
about
nine
o'clock,
a
few
aides
riding with
him.
It
was
a
sunny
morning,
bare
fields
rolling
away to
the
hills
and
mountains
which
blazed
with
autumn
colors,
a
warm
Indian
summer
haze
thickening
the
air.
Off
to
the south
there
was
that
continued
sound
of
firing,
perhaps
a
bit louder
now
than
it
had
been
earlier.
Sheridan
seemed
to
be puzzled.
As
he
picked
up
his
cavalry
escort
he
halted,
dismounted,
and
bent
over
with
his
ear
to
the
ground,
listening intently.
When
he
got
back
on
his
horse
his
swarthy
face was
clouded.

Down
the
road
went
general,
aides,
and
cavalry,
horses moving
at
a
walk.
After
a
mile
or
so
they
came
upon
a
wagon train
all
in
a
tangle,
wagons
turned
every
which
way,
nobody
moving.
Sheridan
sent
his
Major
Forsyth
trotting
on ahead
to
see
what
was
wrong,
and
presently
Forsyth
came back
at
a
mad
gallop.
The
train
had
been
bound
for
the
front, he
reported,
and
at
this
spot
had
met
an
officer
heading
for Winchester
bearing
news
that
the
army
had
been
routed
and was
coming
back
in
full
retreat—on
hearing
which
the
teamsters
had
begun
to
swing
their
wagons
around
without
waiting
for
orders.

Sheridan
told
Major
Spera,
the
cavalry
commander,
to
give him
fifty
of
his
best
mounted
men
and
to
spread
the
rest across
the
road
as
traffic
police:
untangle
the
wagon
train, round
up
fugitives,
and
in
general
see
that
everybody
who thought
he
was
going
to
Winchester
turned
and
headed
back for
the
place
where
the
fighting
was
going
on.
Then
with
his chosen
fifty
Sheridan
set
off
down
the
road,
the
horses
moving
at
a
walk
no
longer.

First
they
met
wagon
trains,
coming
back
to
escape
capture,
and
these
were
told
to
park
in
the
fields
and
await
orders.
Then
they
met
the
outriders
of
defeat—sutlers,
camp followers
of
high
and
low
degree,
artillerymen
without
their guns,
headquarters
trains,
battery
wagons,
caissons,
and
little knots
of
stragglers
and
walking
wounded.
A
little
farther
on, they
saw
groups
of
men
in
the
fields,
clustering
about
camp-fires,
boiling
coffee,
and
they
met
increasing
numbers
of
men walking
along
the
highway.
And
always
the
sound
of
the
firing
grew
louder.

Here
and
there
Sheridan
would
rein
up
and
call:
"Turn back,
men!
Turn
back!
Face
the
other
way!"
Once
he
told
a group
of
stragglers:
"Face
the
other
way,
boys—if
I
had
been there
this
morning
this
wouldn't
have
happened!
You'll
have your
own
camps
back
before
night!"

Most
of
the
time,
however,
he
did
not
come
to
a
halt
but kept
on
at
a
gallop,
swinging
his
hat
in
a
great
arc,
now
and then
pointing
toward
the
south,
always
calling:
"Turn
back, men!
Turn
back!"

The
effect
was
electric.
One
group
of
coffee
boilers,
who had
been
stretched
at
ease
around
a
fire,
jumped
up
with
a yell
as
he
went
past,
kicked
their
coffeepots
over,
seized
their muskets,
and
started
back
toward
the
battlefield.
All
along the
way
men
sprang
up
and
cheered.
Those
who
were
near the
road
turned
and
shouted,
waving
their
arms
in
frantic signal,
to
attract
the
attention
of
men
who
were
sauntering across
fields
a
quarter
of
a
mile
away.
They
pointed
to
the speeding
cavalcade
in
the
road
and
at
the
top
of
their
lungs they
cried:
"Sheridan!
Sheridan!"
²⁰

The
Valley
Pike
had
been
macadamized
once,
but
in
the war
years
it
had
seen
many
armies
and
no
repairs,
and
its surface
now
was
all
pitted
and
broken,
and
a
cloud
of
white dust
rose
as
the
mounted
men
galloped
on,
Sheridan
in
front, the
rest
trailing
after
him.