With the 9th Pennsylvania Cavalry
Savannah, Georgia
January 1865
Asa managed to get his letter off before riding out that next morning and sat now with his squad chuckling over their New Year’s Day ration of beer and beans. A bit of salt pork thrown in had seasoned the bland meal just enough to get their attention. “Wonder what poor hog gave his all to provide us with this bit of grease?” One of the men remarked sardonically. They had reached Savannah a week earlier and Sherman had formally presented the city to President Lincoln as his Christmas present to him and the Country. Capturing that city was the death knell to the Rebel forces so far as Company E was concerned. Word was spreading that both Grant and Lee were seeking to negotiate some sort of peace agreement but the proper procedures for a meeting were proving difficult to arrange. Sherman announced he would progress northward through the Carolinas in a similar fashion as he had during his march to Atlanta and Savannah. From things the men had heard they knew that their commander was especially anxious to administer what he felt were its just desserts to South Carolina since he considered their treasonous actions to have been the cause of the entire conflagration.
“It will teach them a well-deserved lesson,” he affirmed to anyone that questioned him. “The President is in complete agreement,” he proclaimed proudly. “Together with our General “Unconditional Surrender” Grant and the others fighting elsewhere I will bring this atrocity to an end.”
Since the pork and beans hadn’t come from a can that night the men savored the aroma and the taste while speculating on how much more time would pass before they could think of going home. Word was already spreading that the newer recruits would be demobilized first when the war ended as the veterans were understood to be more dependable for the pacifying of captured territory until all that sort of thing could be sorted out. No one had any idea of what would happen when the fighting officially stopped. “Some of those Reb outfits are mighty determined,” one of the men muttered while washing down his mouthful with another gulp of the homebrew they’d concocted.
“Serves ‘em right, what we’ve done,” his companion offered. “Best just burn the whole place to the ground, you ask me. Did you hear what some of those women were saying when we passed through their towns awhile back? Weren’t for them rantin’ and ravin’ on like that, this whole mess would have been done and over with a long time ago. Maybe ole’ Jeff Davis should have put the guns in their hands the way they carry on. Let them spend a few nights sleepin’ on the cold hard ground. ” Asa agreed to a certain extent but said nothing. No need to rile your mates by disagreeing. He’d been appalled at how some of the Union soldiers had taken such pleasure in just plain wanton destruction of shops and stores that had nothing to do with the war at all. Of course, a great many of the southern ladies had not behaved like ladies and the troops had been given permission to respond to their behavior in like manner if necessary to protect themselves from their abuse. As if that wasn’t enough, the appalling conditions they’d found in those Rebel prisons they’d liberated not so long ago were enough to drive any sane man to madness. He could only keep his mouth shut and offer his silent prayers of thanks to have been spared such an ordeal like what those hapless men had suffered.
Rebecca’s brother George came to mind. The disturbing news about his capture by the Rebels during their attack on the Weldon Railroad, not too far from where Asa was now, had struck him to the heart. It was said that an entire company of Vermonters had been taken prisoner as well as a number of Pennsylvanians. George was said to be among them. Poor fellow had been captured earlier at Bull Run and paroled and now he was a prisoner again. Asa feared for his friend’s sanity and his life, having now seen for himself what some of those prisons were like. He hastily put his dish of beans aside as his stomach turned just thinking about the inhuman conditions he and his outfit had discovered.
The winter days wore on with no end in sight. Reports trickled in of attempts to come to some agreement that would end the fighting. Sherman’s offers of terms were quite generous his men felt but the “butternuts” in their faded yellow pants were having none of it so far. The news of Lincoln’s proposed Constitutional amendment to abolish slavery was a frequent source of conversation. Asa had no problem with that. It seemed only right to him. He’d seen up close, more than a few times, places where blacks of both sexes and all ages were bought and sold. He’d found himself balling his fists and gritting his teeth just trying to get his mind around the idea of one man or woman being owned by another and to see the children being separated from their parents was an abomination. He hoped that the end of the war would bring a stop to such atrocities.
January and February passed with more incursions with the retreating rebel forces. Asa saw no indication that the common soldier on either side was ready to give up the fight. The interminable rainy days causing the muddy roads and fields they had to slog thorough made life even more miserable but the men cheered the news of Lincoln’s inauguration on the fourth of March but were concerned that his plea that the war could end with “malice toward none” might be difficult to achieve. They realized the animosity caused not only by the enmities of the battlefields but the harassment by the civilian southerners the Yankee soldiers were encountering was digging its way deeper into their tired brains and bodies. Such embedded emotions would be difficult if not impossible to uproot. By mid-March the 9th was in North Carolina and headed for Raleigh.
Late on March 25th reports of a battle between Grant’s and Lee’s forces at Petersburg in Virginia brought cheers and celebrations when the men learned that Grant had been victorious. If Lee was retreating and ready to quit then only the Confederate General Johnston remained.
“If ‘ol’ Sherm’ would cut us loose we could wind this up in no time,” was the sentiment that spread through the troops now encamped in Raleigh.
On April 2nd Richmond fell and the Confederate government retreated to Columbia, South Carolina. “Johnny Reb has packed his kit and skedaddled” was the word. “The Stars and Stripes fly over the city and they ain’t comin’ down.”
On the 9th at Appomattox Courthouse Lee surrendered his Army to Grant claiming he saw no reason to continue the slaughter. Grant was generous in his victory and allowed the Rebel officers to retain their side arms and swords… however as the other Southern generals also acknowledged that they were running out of everything they required to conduct a war including manpower the dominos began to fall…the impoverished ranks of southern soldiers were melting away rapidly. Sherman’s tactics were paying off.
On the 14th, word came that Fort Sumter had been retaken by the Union but the Country learned to its horror the next morning that President Lincoln had taken his wife to the theatre to celebrate; half-way through the performance he had been shot from behind and lay dying. Shock and outrage brought rioting to the streets and the president died before the dawn of the 15th. Vice President Andrew Johnson of Tennessee was now president. What that might mean was anyone’s guess.
Asa’s regiment mustered at roll call that morning and watched with disbelief as the flag was lowered to half-mast and the requisite salute of gunfire echoed from the surrounding hills.
Three days later the 9th Regiment was called upon to escort General Sherman to a meeting with the Confederate General Johnston who sent word he was prepared to surrender. With furled and shrouded flags the men and horses progressed solemnly to the agreed upon location near Durham and the long, fratricidal war was more or less officially over.
Both generals knew there were still scattered units that refused to quit and were just fading away into the shadows but over all Johnny Reb hugged his hurt and hopelessness to his breast while Billy Yank brushed the dried blood and dust from his blue coat and prepared to reap the adulation of a thankful nation reunited, if not in soul at least in name.