A Stillness at Appomattox (72 page)

A
gigantic
crash
of
artillery
broke
the
morning
quiet
just as
the
crackle
of
skirmishers'
fire
began.
Suddenly
the empty-looking
Rebel
trenches
were
dotted
with
black
slouch hats
and
thousands
of
musket
barrels,
long
sheets
of
flame ran
from
end
to
end
of
the
trench
lines,
an
immense
cloud of
smoke
blotted
out
the
sight
of
them,
and
the
rocking volume
of
sound
dazed
men
who
had
been
in
the
war's
worst battles.
One
of
Hancock's
gunners
wrote,
in
awe:
"It
had the
fury
of
the
Wilderness
musketry
with
the
thunders
of the
Gettysburg
artillery
super-added.
It
was
simply
terrific."
²¹

This
was
the
army's
major
offensive,
the
culmination
of
a month's
bloody
campaigning,
and
it
was
not
one
fight
but many
fights:
a
conglomeration
of
charges
by
individual
brigades
rather
than
one
massed
assault.
There
was
no
one
line of
battle,
wide
and
deep,
each
part
supporting
all
the
rest.
Instead
there
were
many
separate
assaults,
all
going
forward at
once,
each
one
more
or
less
isolated
from
the
others,
so that
every
unit
felt
that
it
was
advancing
unaided
into
the very
center
of
the
strongest
enemy
fine
it
had
ever
seen.

Hancock
had
three
divisions
of
infantry,
and
he
sent
two of
them
in
with
the
third
held
back
for
support.
The
divisions
prompdy
separated.
Barlow
took
his
men
in
with
two brigades
in
front,
and
these
swept
across
a
sunken
road, beating
down
the
Southern
skirmishers
who
held
it,
and charged
on
and
broke
into
the
main
line
of
Confederate works,
capturing
several
hundred
prisoners
and
three
guns and,
for
an
incredible
instant,
making
it
look
as
if
they
were going
to
win
an
amazing
success.
Yet
the
ground
just
behind them
was
swept
by
a
terrible
cross
fire
from
Confederates off
to
the
right
and
left,
and
when
the
support
troops
tried to
come
forward
they
were
broken
and
driven
back,
and Barlow's
two
leading
brigades
were
isolated.

From
both
sides
Rebel
gunners
were
sending
shell
and solid
shot
plowing
the
length
of
the
captured
trench
with murderous
effect,
and
from
the
ground
ahead
of
Barlow's men,
massed
infantry
plastered
them
with
an
unbearable volume
of
musket
fire.
The
men
stayed
there
as
long
as
they could,
but
it
was
not
very
long,
and
in
a
few
minutes
they ran
back,
crouched
down
behind
a
low
swelling
in
the ground,
and
with
bayonets
and
tin
cups
began
frantically to
dig
in.
They
had
done
their
best,
and
instead
of
retreating
to
the
starting
place
they
were
valiantly
hanging
on within
a
few
rods
of
the
Confederate
line,
but
they
had
not opened
the
road
to
Richmond.

On
their
right,
Gibbon
s
division
had
even
worse
luck.
It set
out
bravely
enough,
the
veterans
knowing
full
well
that they
were
going
into
a
death
trap
but
setting
their
teeth and
going
forward
anyway.
As
the
lines
moved
into
range of
the
Confederate
fire
the
color-bearer
of
the
19th
Massachusetts
was
shot,
and
the
regimental
commander
told
Corporal
Mike
Scannell
to
pick
up
the
flag
and
carry
it.
Mike promptly
declined,
explaining:
"Too
many
corporals
have
already
been
killed
carrying
colors/'
The
commander
blinked at
him,
and
then
promised:
'111
make
you
a
sergeant
on the
spot."
"That's
business,"
said
the
corporal.
"I
’
ll
carry
the colors."
So
he
picked
up
the
flag
and
the
regiment
went on.
²²

Two
hundred
yards
from
the
starting
point
Gibbon's
division
hit
a
deep
swamp
whose
existence
nobody
had
known about,
and
the
swamp
split
the
line
in
two,
half
of
the
men going
to
one
side
and
half
to
the
other.
The
swamp
grew wider
as
the
men
advanced
and
the
separated
halves
of
the line
could
not
rejoin,
and
in
the
swamp
there
were
many snipers
who
took
a
heavy
toll,
and
in
the
end
two
separated brigades
went
staggering
up
to
the
invulnerable
trenches. One
of
these
brigades
got
onto
the
Rebel
line
very
briefly —there
is
memory
of
a
colonel
standing
on
the
parapet, swinging
his
sword
and
shouting
to
his
men
to
come
on. But
the
colonel
went
down,
his
lifeless
body
draped
across the
parapet,
and
he
was
hit
thereafter
by
so
many
stray
bullets
that
when
a
truce
was
declared
a
few
days
later
he could
be
identified
only
by
the
buttons
on
his
sleeve.
The other
men
who
got
up
to
the
line
did
not
fare
much
better than
he
did,
and
the
attack
collapsed
a
few
seconds
after it
had
touched
the
breastworks.
The
other
brigade
never reached
the
line—partly,
it
was
said,
because
it
contained many
new
troops
who
went
charging
in
with
great
dash and
much
cheering,
anxious
to
prove
themselves,
and
who made
such
excellent
targets
of
themselves
that
they
were destroyed
before
they
got
within
fifty
yards
of
their
enemies.