by Jeff Shaara
Hill nodded, seemed relieved; the conversation was not personal, there was nothing of the old conflict in Longstreet's words.
Lee looked briefly at Longstreet, nodded quietly, thought, Yes, thank you, there is no time for all of the old problems. He took a breath now, said to Hill, "Have you been along your lines this morning? Do you see any sign that the enemy is moving-" There was a loud commotion outside, and the door burst open, Colonel Venable yelling into the room, "Sir, quick... something is happening, Sir! We're in retreat... quick, Sir!"
Lee jumped up, rushed outside, could see men streaming across the open ground, coming up from the defenses below. There were wagons, horses, men in the road, moving up from the far trees and the thickets to the south. He felt for his field glasses, realized he was not wearing them, turned, saw Longstreet reach for his own and hold them out to him. Lee raised the glasses, looked to the southwest, could see more troops, an organized line moving up the broad hill, well past the defensive lines that were still strong, lines that should not have given way. He focused the glasses, strained to see, could not yet tell the uniforms, the fog still holding the sunlight away.
Lee handed the glasses to Longstreet, said, "Can you see... ? Is that our people, a retreat? Are we pulling back?"
Longstreet focused, shook his head.
"Can't tell.. Lee turned to Venable.
"Colonel, you must find out who those people are. Get word... find General Heth. I must know if his lines have been broken."
Now Hill jumped down from the porch, climbed quickly to his horse, said, "Sir, General Heth is my responsibility. If his position has been threatened, I will see to it." He spun the horse and moved quickly away, his aide scrambling to follow.
Lee looked at Venable, mounting his own horse.
"Colonel," he S id, "accompany General Hill! Report any news!" al 1 Venable saluted, galloped quickly after Hill.
Lee felt the energy now fading quickly, felt a dark weariness, a black shroud of gloom, called out weakly, "General Hill... take good care.... THE LINES, MUDDY EARTHWORKS) WIDE TRENCHES, WERE EMPTY. The signs of the fight were all around, but there was no more fight. The men who had held these lines were far to the rear, pursued by most of the Federal Sixth Corps, Wright's men storming into the lines at first light. The men in blue, having little to slow them down, burst through the defenses, as they might have done at any time, the lines stretched thin enough that no concentrated assault could have been resisted for long.
Venable was close to Hill and the two aides, and they moved farther to the west, reached a small rise and could see the road again, a line of cannon, big guns moving slowly away.
Hill focused his glasses, said to Venable, "Colonel, those are our guns. We need them brought back... this way."
Venable saluted, rode quickly away. Hill scanned the ground, spurred the horse and moved down into a small patch of trees, the ground wet, a narrow creek twisting through. They moved quickly, pushed past the brush, began to climb up out of the tangle, and Hill ides stopped, seeing two abruptly pulled his horse up short. The two al men in blue, muskets dragging the ground, eyes wide, exhausted.
Hill shouted "Put down your guns. You are prisoners P?
5 no fight, The two aides rushed forward, but the blue soldiers had the guns slipping from their hands. Hill rode forward, looked at the is ide, Tucker, who said, "General, what do we two men, glanced at h' al do with them?"
Hill looked at the other aide, said, "Private, escort these men back to General Lee. Sergeant Tucker, we must keep on.."
HEY WERE A COMPANY FROM SOUTHERN PENNSYLVANIA, MEN
who loved Uncle John Sedgwick, who now fought under a man they still didn't know and had rarely seen, Horatio Wright.
i the small They had come into the army as an alternative to life in T towns, as common laborers, possessing the skills of handymen and carpenters. Many laughed when the shovels were passed down the Federal line, had done this work before, and by now many had used the shovels often, burying old friends and new.
This morning their good work had been with the musket, with the quick assault, but when the order came down, they looked at each other, wondered, Why now? What had changed that would make those rebs easier today than yesterday? But the order would never be questioned; the feelings about the officers would come out later, around the campfire, when they would talk more about the friends who did not come back.
They had moved forward at the first light, expected to rush into the blazing hell of the same fights they had rushed into before, but the enemy gave way quickly, without much resistance. Now the men of the Sixth Corps pushed on, chasing the rebels farther than they had before, a fast flight over the rolling fields that would eventually carry them to the railroad and beyond, to the Appomattox River.
His name was Mauk, and he was a corporal, a promotion earned for reasons he still didn't understand. He didn't know much about maps and rivers, had followed the men in front of him, as always, climbed up and over the high walls that he'd watched for months, surprised that when they reached the top there was no one there to stop them.
He had come into the army leaving a family at home, sent his pay to his wife whenever he could. He did not gamble, and if the temptation ever crossed him, he would think of the children, of the small home in the small town, and turn away from the men with the cards, the men with the bottles, and the few dollars would go home instead.
They were separated from the main body now, regiments and companies scattered all along the road, far out into the wide fields. They had moved through the old abandoned winter quarters of the rebels, and some had slipped out of line, an opportunity to perhaps find something, a memento, some piece of treasure.
Mauk stayed away from that, kept moving, a small group of men staying with him. If we keep moving, he thought, we should find the captain, find out what to do now.
What was left of his company was moving, slowly, carefully, through a small patch of damp woods, a muddy swamp. The men spread out behind him were as nervous as he was; they were behind the lines, had broken through into the enemy's ground. The main force was up ahead, somewhere, and Mauk began to scan the ground beyond the swamp, glanced into the sun, now moving higher, thought, No, not that way. He knew enough about direction to know that way was Petersburg.
One man was close to him now, and Mauk saw it was the boy, Wolford, with the freckled face of a child, who everyone thought had lied about his age. Wolford stayed close to Mauk, always, and Mauk had patience, would look out for him, pull him in the right direction, hold him down when the volleys flew thick. Mauk looked past the boy, could see toward the others now, thought they were too far apart and wanted to yell at them to close it up. But then he glanced back across the open ground beyond the trees, thought, Maybe a bit farther, stay quiet, see what might be over that rise... There was a small sound, and Mauk looked at the boy, and the boy pointed, wide-eyed. Mauk heard louder sounds now, turned and saw two horsemen moving along the open hillside. He crouched low, then moved up quickly, slipped behind the cover of a fat oak tree, raised his musket. The boy came up close to him, moved against the trees as well, lower, closer to the ground, pointed his musket as well. They see us, Mauk thought. Looks like officers!
The riders slowed, then stopped, and one, the smaller man, said something to the other, and the larger man rode toward them, closer, shouted out, "Fire and you'll be swept to hell! Surrender, or I will shoot you! Our troops are here, you'll have to surrender anyway The smaller man moved forward now, a thick red beard, and he yelled, "Surrender your arms!"
Mauk glanced down at the boy, said quietly, "I don't see it."
He looked down the barrel of the gun now, thought the smaller man seemed to be in command. He sighted the small metal bead on the man's chest, said to the boy, "Let's shoot them."
Both muskets fired, and Mauk saw his target fall, saw through the smoke that the other man was not hit, had grabbed the fallen man's horse, turned and rode quickly away. Mauk looked down
at the boy, said, "I believe you missed."
Wolford nodded, said nothing, and they eased out from the tree, moved up the rise.
Mauk said, "Let's see what we got here... They moved up to the still body, the gray uniform stained now with a spreading flow of red.
Mauk leaned over, said, "Look here, Wolford. Got him through the heart."
The boy was looking around, nervous still, and Mauk saw the men waving him back into the trees, small shouts, "C'mon." He backed away from the body, said to the boy, "Best be moving on. He's an officer, that's for sure." He moved away, the boy close behind, nod1 ding now, a small piece of pride.
"Yep, got me an officer." LEE HAD SEEN THE TROOPS CLEARLY BY NOW, DID NOT NEED THE field glasses. They were moving in a slow steady wave, and there was no mistaking that the uniforms were blue. Longstreet was gone, off to manage the troops arriving on the trains. In the yard around the house, Lee's staff had gathered what they could, but much would be left behind. The Turnbull house was now directly in the path of the Federal advance. Lee still did not know what had happened, bow the line had collapsed. He moved to the porch, stepped down toward the big horse, saw Taylor, and Marshall, carrying bundles of paper, tossing them into the waiting wagon. Lee mounted Traveller, heard horses moving quickly up the road from the west. He turned, beard Marshall say, "Sir, it's General Hill... " Lee saw the familiar horse, but the rider was not Hill, and Lee was surprised, then recognized the man, thought, Yes, Tucker, Hill's aide. There were others, Palmer, Hill's chief of staff, but Lee focused on Tucker, and the man's face carried all the message Lee needed. He felt the cold stab in his chest, saw Tucker slide off the horse, waited patiently as Tucker gathered himself, looking at Lee through eyes filled with tearful grief.
Palmer moved forward now, and Lee held up his hand-no, wait-still watched Tucker, and Tucker said, "Sir... I am sorry, Sir. General Hill is dead. We ran into some Yankees-" Lee raised his hand again, and Tucker stopped. Lee thought, It does not matter, the details... not now. He closed his eyes, pushed it hard, held it away, his throat tight, the stiffness in his chest squeezing away the air. He opened his mouth, tried to breathe, fought for it, and now he looked at Tucker, at Palmer, saw tears on the face of both men, said, "He is at rest now, and we who are left are the ones to suffer."
There was a quiet moment, but down below big guns began to fire, the air overhead ripped with the screaming of shells. Lee looked at Palmer, thought, Hill's home... so close to this awful place. He said, "Go, now, to Mrs. Hill. Tell her what has happened. Break it to her as gently as possible."
Palmer saluted, moved quickly away. Lee looked at Taylor, saw him toss a pile of books into the wagon, said, "Colonel, get word to General Longstreet. Since we cannot locate General Heth, I wish General Longstreet to assume command of the Third Corps."
He looked to the west, could see more lines of blue moving toward the road, the route west, said, "I hope... General Heth has been able to join forces with General Anderson. We may not know that for some time.
The orderlies were carrying Lee's small trunk, and Lee saw the telegraph operator now, a small thin man with tiny glasses. The man was moving across the yard, and Lee said, "Sir! Are the lines still up? Do you know if we can still send out?"
The man stopped, glanced nervously at the sounds of the enemy guns, said, "Yes... yes, Sir. I believe so, Sir."
Lee dismounted, grabbed the man by the sleeve, led him up across the porch, back into the house. The man sat at his small desk, pushed away paper, his hand now holding the brass telegraph, and he looked at Lee, waited, a silent urgency for Lee to hurry.
Lee did not look at him, thought of the words, of how the president would respond. He had thought this moment was coming for a long time, something Davis would never discuss. He believes it is the whole cause, he thought. We fight to keep him in Richmond. Lee was angry now, had often thought Davis should come out here, see for himself. There were always reasons; too busy." his bad health. So, this would be a surprise to him. Lee shook his head, looked at his watch, thought, He will be at church, at St. Paul's, and I will interrupt his morning service. A marvelous luxury, sitting in a beautiful church, the peace of a Sunday service. Lee closed his eyes, thought, There is no time for that now. There Is no time for luxury.
He looked down at the small man, saw sweat on his face, the hand trembling slightly on the telegraph key. Lee put a hand on the man's shoulder, said, "It's all right... there's time yet. You may begin... "To His Excellency, President Jefferson Davis...... HE HOUSE WAS EMPTY, THE HEADQUARTERS NOW ON WHEELS, the wagon already moving away on the road. Lee saw Taylor and Marshall mounting their own horses, gave Traveller a light nudge with his spurs, the horse now moving across the yard. There was a sudden shattering blast, a shower of brick and wood, a shell hitting the house, and Lee glanced back, thought of the family, the generous people. This is how you are repaid.... He moved the horse into the road, Taylor moving up beside him.
Musket fire could be heard now, close below the house, a new line of blue emerging from the woods, a new line of defense giving way. He stared that way for a moment, could see officers, men waving their troops on toward the house.
He looked at Taylor, said, "Colonel, this is a sad business."
HE ASSAULT HAD COME ALL ALONG THE FRONT. EAST OF TOWN, Gordon had held away the Federal advance as long as he could. The last strongholds were now falling there as well, the men in the small forts holding on until the last desperate moment.
South of the city, Heth and Wilcox had been overrun by the Sixth, and Heth's division was now split in two. What remained of Lee's forces close to Petersburg began to move back in a tight arc around the city. But no one believed there was any reason to stay where they were. Grant's army was pushing still, and there was only one alternative. Lee gave the order. When darkness finally came, the army would move north, cross the bridges over the Appomattox and evacuate the city of Petersburg.
T WAS A GRAND PLACE, THE MAGNIFICENCE OF STAINED GLASS, THE
breathtaking soar of the grand ceiling. St. Paul's Church was usually filled by now, but there were gaps, empty spaces in the pews, many having left the city, gone to the safety of the countryside.
It was the first Sunday of the month, and President Davis sat in his accustomed pew, midway down the aisle, listened to the solemn voice flowing out over the worshippers. He did not hear the words, his mind wandering, thought now of the early days, of cheering crowds, of Varina and the children.... The thought froze him, and he could not help it, glanced beside him, the pew empty. They were gone, had been sent away in a wave of tearful good-byes, had left the city only a few days before. Varina did not want to leave, did not understand why she could not be with him, and he still did not believe it would happen, but the word kept coming, spreading all through the city; the meager defense forces were called out again, manning the works that faced the enemy. They said it was real, and close, and now Longstreet was gone, had taken much of the strength with him. But Davis still believed they would be back. Go, do your job, he thought. Take care of business, then return.
Lee had continued to warn him, insisted he be ready to leave, and that angered him-there was too much left to do, too many details. They could not simply load up the government in boxes and move at a moment's notice.
He thought of Lee now: I should have been there, with you. He smiled sadly, thought of West Point, of Mexico. We were soldiers once, both of us. Of course, Lee is still a soldier. The people love him... he does not make them angry. The newspapers do not say hateful things. I do no t understand... this is our fight, all of us. If we hold on, it will turn, it has to, it is the will of God.
He tried to focus on the sermon, but the words flowed past him. Now there was a pause, the minister silent, and heads were turning, small whispers. Davis still stared off into some other place, tried to see Varina, to bring back that moment when the train had pulled away.... "Sir."
The voice was a faint whisper, and Davis turned, saw a young man in a bl
ack suit, leaning over. Davis looked at him, then saw the faces, the people all around looking at him. The young man whispered, C(Sir, excuse me, Sir. I'm from the War Department. We have received a wire, from General Lee. It is urgent, Sir."
Davis took the folded paper from the young man, held it for a moment, the faces still watching him, and he slid a finger under the seal, his hand trembling, cold. He opened the note, saw his name, the familiar heading from Lee, read silently: I think it is absolutely necessary that we should abandon our position tonight. I have given all the necessary orders on the sub)ect to the troops, and the operation, though difficult, I hope will be performed successfully... He stared at the page for a long moment, then folded the paper, tucked it in his coat pocket. He turned to thank the messenger, but the young man was already gone. Now the minister began to speak again, and slowly the faces turned toward the front.
Davis's mind tried to work, thought of the details. If we must leave, yes, the War Department, go there first... He stood now, looked at the minister, and the man still spoke, made a subtle nod toward him, and Davis looked up, above the man's head, above the altar, saw the words written high up on the wall, the words he had seen for years, the gold lettering, profound, simple, as if for the first time. He understood now it was for him, had been sent by God as a message to him.