by Larry Hunt
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The War is Over
Spring was finally arriving in 1865. Robert has waited day after day to hear his name called as Captain William Mayo had promised. Robert thought as he lay on his bunk, ‘the Captain did not promise I would be exchanged, he only said he put in a recommendation to add my name to the exchange list. Anything could have happened to prevent this from taking place.’
The last couple of months have taken its toll on Robert’s health. His only friend now is T.J. Wells; Robert never knew what the T.J. stood for. He is just known as TJ. TJ had been with Robert at Gettysburg, just in another outfit. Had it not been for TJ, Robert would not have survived as long as he has. Robert was too weak to walk even to the mess house to get what meager rations are being served. TJ would, somehow, get him a piece of meat or a slice of bread occasionally, not much, but enough to keep him alive.
News is flowing into Point Lookout like a river. Each day more talk comes of the War ending. General Grant still has General Lee besieged at Petersburg, Virginia, but recent news indicate that General Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia has slipped away from Petersburg on the night of April 2-3 and is headed west. Followed closely by General Grant’s Army of the Potomac.
All the prisoners in Point Lookout know a final, decisive battle is coming; it is just a matter of when and where. Lee’s army is starving; most have no shoes, their supply of ammunition is almost exhausted. To General Lee, surrender is the only course of action left. He does not want to needlessly sacrifice his soldier’s lives. On 9 April, the General laments, “There is nothing left for me to do, but to go and see General Grant and I would rather die a thousand deaths."
At 4 p.m., on the afternoon of 9 April 1865, General Robert E. Lee meets General Ulysses S. Grant at the home of Wilmer Mclean. They meet at a small crossroads known simply as Appomattox Courthouse, and General Lee surrenders the Army of Northern Virginia. For all practical purposes, the War of the Rebellion, or as the Yanks call it the Civil War, is finally over.
One correspondent standing in the yard of the Mclean house remarks, “Strange, the War started in Wilmer Mclean’s yard at the 1st Battle of Bull Run on the outskirts of Washington, D.C. in 1861. He moves to Virginia to get his family away from the fighting, and the War ends in his yard in 1865!”
News of the surrender did not reach Point Lookout until the afternoon of 10 April 1865. TJ bolts into the tent, “Robert, you must hear the news! Bobby Lee has surrendered his self and his Army of Northern Virginny. Yeah, you heard right he surrendered sommers west of Petersburg, Virginny, at a place called Appomattox, you ever hear’d of it? No? Me neither.”
Robert weakly asks what did TJ think is going to happen now? TJ responds by saying the talk is the prisoners are to be taken by steamer down to Norfolk, Virginia and set free.
“TJ for two years now I have posted letters to my family in Alabama. As to date, I have never received a reply, as far as I know they might not even be alive. I had two sons, Luke and Matthew with me at Gettysburg, I’ve never found out what happened to them. I know the War is over, but even if I get carried to the steamer, I will not survive. Can you do me one last favor – write a letter to my brother Isaac Scarburg in care of the Scarburg Mill at Scarlettsville, South Carolina. At the very least, my family can know of my final demise.”
“Robert, my friend, if I can find some paper and pen, I assure you I will post a letter to your brother. Hang in there my friend, you ain’t gonna die! Me and you have come to close to the end to die now.”
Point Lookout is a scurry during the following weeks, most of the Negro guards ran off afraid of retaliation by the prisoners. In fact, for the past couple of weeks there have been no guards on the walls at all, but where are the inmates to go? Most are in rags; all are barefoot, ribs you can count, beards and hair that have needed scissors many months ago. They look like dead men walking; in fact, a lot of them were just that, walking dead men. Robert, unfortunately, is one of them.
TJ had not forgotten his promise to Robert, he finds a pen, but he cannot find writing paper. One afternoon, TJ has an inspiration. The prison is overrun by worthless Confederate money, shinplasters as the men call the currency. Why not use them to write a note to Robert’s brother? On the white backs of a couple of ten-dollar Confederate bills, TJ pens a brief note to Isaac letting him know his brother Robert is alive at the Point Lookout Prison in Maryland.
As he walks along Pennsylvania Avenue heading toward the mail office, he shoves the two ten-dollar shinplasters into an envelope. A couple of malcontents see what TJ is doing. To their covetous eyes, he is sending good Union greenbacks home. They are going to have none of that, one of the ruffians approaches TJ, “What’s yer doin’ my good man, sendin’ yer sweetie yer savings, huh?”
“My what? Savings? Well no, there are no funds in this post I am making.”
“Well, we’ll jest have to see fer ourselves, won’t we there,” the provocateur at his back says as he grabs the envelope. TJ makes an effort to grab it back, but the man in front withdraws a prison made shiv from his pants and plunges it into TJ’s heart, killing him instantly.
The murderer pulls the paper from the envelope, sees it is nothing but worthless shinplasters. Walking away, he scatters the worthless currency, containing TJ’s note to Robert’s brother, over TJ’s dead body.
Robert’s lifeline to the outside world is now severed completely. He truly is now going to die... and alone...