A Stillness at Appomattox (52 page)

Midway
down
the
Mule
Shoe
the
something
solid
appeared

—an
ably
led
division
of
Confederate
veterans
bent
on
driving the
Yankees
back
to
where
they
came
from.
Lee
himself
was among
them,
getting
them
set
for
a
counterattack,
trying
to lead
it
himself
until
the
Southern
Army's
sure
instinct
for
self-preservation
forced
him
to
the
rear.
These
Southerners
formed a
battle
line
and
tilted
their
muskets
down
and
came
charging up
the
salient,
and
they
hit
the
disorganized
Yankees
and
sent them
running.
There
were
wild
moments
of
confused
fighting in
the
misty
woods
and
up
across
the
little
fields
and
hollows, and
then
the
Federals
came
pelting
back
to
the
captured trenches.
Here
they
stopped
running
and
turned
around
and dug
in
to
hold
onto
what
they
had
gained,
while
the
high command
sent
fresh
troops
up
from
the
rear
to
exploit
the break
that
had
been
made.

For
half
a
mile
or
more,
all
along
the
toe
of
the
salient,
the men
of
the
II
Corps
held
the
Confederate
trenches.
These were
wide
and
deep,
with
so
many
traverses
built
back
from them
that
they
were
like
a
series
of
adjoining
cellars,
and their
walls
were
made
of
piled
logs
and
banked-up
earth,
the ground
at
the
bottom
all
muddy
and
covered
with
inches
of filthy
rain
water.
In
this
long
jagged
ditch
the
Federals
suddenly
went
on
the
defensive,
while
the
Rebels
came
storming out
of
the
woods
to
wrest
the
line
away
from
them.
¹⁷

Practically
all
of
Hancock's
corps
was
up
now,
and
there was
not
room
for
nearly
all
of
the
men
to
get
on
the
firing line.
In
places
they
were
jammed
forty
ranks
deep,
outside of
the
trenches,
trying
to
crowd
their
way
forward
so
that they
could
shoot
Confederates.
They
had
seized
the
captured guns
and
swung
them
around,
but
there
were
no
gunners among
them
and
few
of
the
infantrymen
knew
much
about handling
cannon.
One
man
remembered
how
they
loaded these
weapons
with
any
bits
of
metal
they
could
find,
including
broken
muskets,
and
fired
them
helter-skelter,
endangering
themselves
about
as
much
as
their
enemies.
An
Irish
private
was
gleefully
fitting
a
primer
into
the
breech
of
one
of the
guns,
and
a
comrade
tried
to
tell
him
that
the
weapon was
elevated
for
extreme
long
range,
so
that
it
would
shoot far
above
the
oncoming
Rebels.
"Never
fear!"
yelled
the
Irishman,
jerking
the
lanyard
and
firing
the
piece.
"It's
bound
to come
down
on
somebody's
head!"
¹⁸

The
Federals
were
here
in
overwhelming
numbers,
and their
very
numbers
were
a
handicap.
Barlow
tried
desperately to
get
the
men
re-formed,
so
that
an
organized
attack
could
be resumed.
There
was
no
point
in
trying
to
go
down
the
open ground
in
the
middle
of
the
salient.
The
recipe
for
victory now
was
to
organize
an
advance
that
would
sweep
along
the trench
lines
to
right
and
left,
flanking
the
Confederate
defenders
and
widening
the
breach
until
it
was
past
mending. But
as
fast
as
Barlow
could
get
a
few
elements
sorted
out
and put
into
line
a
new
mass
of
reinforcements
would
come
loping
in
from
the
rear,
and
the
line
would
vanish.

Things
had
happened
too
fast.
What
sketchy
planning
there had
been
was
based
on
the
theory
that
a
great
deal
of
sheer muscle
would
be
needed
to
break
the
Rebel
line.
What
actually
happened,
however,
was
that
the
line
broke
at
the
first touch,
and
what
was
needed
immediately
thereafter
was quick
footwork
rather
than
brute
strength.
But
the
muscle was
still
coming
in
and
there
was
no
way
to
stop
it
and
footwork
was
quite
out
of
the
question.
There
was
nothing
for
it now
but
for
everybody
to
get
together
and
shove.

Both
sides
were
shoving
at
once,
and
in
the
same
place, and
the
result
was
the
wildest,
bitterest
in-fighting
of
the
entire
war.

In
effect
each
side
was
making
a
charge
and
repelling
a charge
at
the
same
moment
and
with
the
same
troops.
The Confederates
were
fighting
with
a
last-ditch
fury.
Far
to
their rear
Lee
was
building
a
new
trench
line
across
the
throat
of the
salient.
It
would
be
an
all-day
job
and
until
the
line
was finished
the
men
up
front
must
at
any
cost
whatever
either drive
the
Yankees
out
or
at
least
keep
them
from
coming
in any
deeper.
That
meant
close-range
fighting
carried
out
without
any
letup.
The
battle
front
was
a
mile
wide
by
now,
with Burnside's
men
fighting
their
way
through
the
woods
on
the east
and
Wright
sending
his
VI
Corps
in
on
the
west,
and
in no
place
along
this
front
were
the
rival
firing
lines
more
than a
few
yards
apart,