Twenty-four

Appomattox

 

General U.S. Grant had intended to immediately resume his attack on Petersburg, but reconnaissance revealed that Confederate trenches were empty. Lee’s beleaguered army had stolen away in the night and evacuated Petersburg as well as Richmond. Union forces moved in the following day to occupy those strategic locations. Grant feared, however, that Lee was on his way to North Carolina by way of Lynchburg to rendezvous with his forces in that state. If the Federals could intercept the Army of Northern Virginia along the way, there was little doubt that the Confederacy would be doomed.1

Sheridan’s four cavalry divisions—Devin, Crook, Custer, and Mackenzie—were dispatched at 9:00 A.M. on April 3 with the mission of hunting down and engaging the fleeing Rebels. Custer led the advance, anxious to be the first to locate the enemy and gain additional glory. His Third Division followed Lee west along the Appomattox River Valley until reaching Namozine Creek.

The bridge had been destroyed, and Rebel fortifications were observed on the distant bank. Custer was unaware of it at the time, but his men were greatly outnumbered. That small factor likely would not have deterred him had he known. He dispatched one troop to outflank the enemy position while other men with axes were detailed to remove fallen trees from the stream to clear the path for the main force.

An impatient Tom Custer, however, took a page from his older brother’s book and spurred his horse to gallop across the waterway toward the enemy trenches. His act of bravado inspired the troops to follow. The Rebels fired volleys at the onrushing horsemen, but soon broke and fled to form a line at Namozine Church. Tom Custer led the charge that overcame that brief stand, and the battle became a running fight as the Rebels endeavored to elude their dogged pursuers. When hostilities had cooled, Tom presented his proud brother with a battle flag along with fourteen prisoners, including three officers. Phil Sheridan recommended that Tom receive the Medal of Honor for his actions.2

Robert E. Lee’s retreating army was exhausted and in dire need of provisions. The Confederate commander believed that if his troops could reach the railroad at Appomattox Station, they would have a chance to resupply and elude the Union troops. Early on April 6, General Lee changed his order of march for the purpose of expediting their movement and escaping the pursuing Union horsemen. Lee rode ahead of the column with Lieutenant General James Longstreet and the infantry. They were followed by a lengthy line of supply wagons, and then Major General John Gordon’s Second Corps acting as rear guard. Lee was approaching Farmville, where he hoped to procure provisions, when the column inadvertently split into two detachments. Lee continued on as planned, but the wagon train and Gordon veered to the north, where they came under Federal attack at a place called Sayler’s Creek.

Custer had been trailing that enemy column, and his opportunistic cavalrymen plunged into the hottest of the engagement. The hastily entrenched Rebels put up an admirable fight, which kept the enemy at bay for some time. During the fray, Custer had his horse shot out from beneath him, and his color bearer was killed. The infantry finally arrived, and Custer led the charge against enemy lines.

The Rebels held their fire until the last moment, and then unleashed a vicious barrage. The assaulting cavalrymen were undaunted and soared over the fortifications with hooves flying, sabers slashing, and pistols smoking. Within a matter of minutes, the gray line was sent scattering in the wake of the surging Federals. The Rebels continued to fight as they withdrew to the north. Custer formed his division and gave chase to put the finishing touches on their day’s work.3

Now that the most serious fighting was over, Tom Custer was intent upon distinguishing himself. He swooped down on a Rebel color bearer, who fired his pistol point blank at Tom. The bullet struck young Custer in the cheek and exited behind his ear. Blood spurted from the wound and his face was blackened with powder. The force of the blast had thrown him backward against his horse’s rump, but he quickly righted himself in the saddle. He drew his own pistol, and coolly shot and killed the standard bearer. Tom then grabbed the coveted battle flag, wheeled his horse, and galloped through the chaotic battlefield to show off the trophy to his brother. The general ordered Tom to seek medical attention for his wound, but Tom was determined to return to the battle. As a result, Armstrong placed Tom under arrest and had him forcibly escorted to the surgeon. Colonel Capehart had witnessed Tom’s heroic action, and later said, “for intrepidity I never saw this incident surpassed.”

Tom Custer’s demonstration of courage was rewarded with a brevet promotion to lieutenant colonel and the awarding of his second Medal of Honor—becoming the first man in history to receive two, and the only double recipient during the Civil War.

George Armstrong Custer was thrilled about his brother’s brave exploits, and later wrote to Libbie saying, “I am as proud of him as I can be, as soldier, brother.”4

Sayler’s Creek had been a smashing victory for the Union. Over nine thousand Confederates—including Lee’s son Custis and six other generals—had been taken prisoner, along with thirty-six battle flags. This amounted to the greatest number of American troops ever captured at one time on this continent, before the Civil War or after. Nearly one-third of the total force of the once-invincible Army of Virginia had been lost on an afternoon that would forever be remembered by the South as “Black Thursday.”5

Custer formed his division the following morning for the march just as a long line of Confederate prisoners straggled past on their way to the rear. In a show of respect for his vanquished enemy, Custer ordered the band to play “Dixie” for these brave men, which evoked cheers from the Southern boys.

Custer’s division, which had been leading the Union cavalry, had gone into bivouac some two miles from Appomattox Station in the early evening of April 8, when word was received that four trains full of Confederate munitions and supplies were presently unloading at the station. At the same time, a courier from Wesley Merritt delivered the order that Custer should rest his troops.

The prospect of capturing these trains naturally took precedence in Custer’s way of thinking. He craftily dispatched a courier to inform Merritt about the trains and that he would attack unless receiving orders to the contrary. Custer then quickly roused his brigades and rode out for Appomattox Station before Merritt could respond.6

Custer’s troops swooped down on the station, and easily overpowered the guards to capture the four trains—except for one engine that was uncoupled and steamed away. Within moments of the seizure, a torrent of Rebel artillery shells rained down on the Federals.

Confederate Brigadier General R. Lindsay Walker, who commanded a small brigade of cavalry, a wagon train, and around one hundred guns, had opened up from a ridge about a half mile from the station. Custer detailed former engineers and stokers to move the trains to safety, then formed his men for a charge on the enemy cannon.7

Without bothering to wait for his trailing brigades, Custer sent Pennington’s New Yorkers and Ohioans toward the location of the bright flashes of artillery. The Union horsemen charged the cannon’s mouth, but were shredded by close range volleys and small arms fire, and were forced to fall back. By that time, Wells’ and Capehart’s regiments had come up.

Custer rode along the line of blue-clad horsemen, and shouted, “Boys, the Third Division must have those guns! I’m going to charge if I go alone!” Custer then grabbed his guidon, lifted it high, and confidently called out, “I go; who will follow?” Custer had successfully whipped his weary men into an inspired, battle-hungry group of proud cavalrymen who would accept any challenge that their heroic commander presented. His words were affirmed by a deafening chorus of cheers.8

Old Curly, true to custom, personally led the mounted assault on the stubborn Confederate position. The Yankees swiftly closed on the artillery battery in the darkness, and braved the initial storm of fire to crush their enemy. The Rebels were forced to abandon their position, and left behind twenty-four pieces of artillery, seven battle flags, two hundred wagons, and a thousand prisoners—not to mention the four trainloads of supplies at the station. More importantly, the quick action on Custer’s part had cut off Lee’s retreat.9

Custer pushed on to Appomattox Court House, where his men encountered enough resistance from Lee’s infantry that after an hour or so he ordered them to withdraw to the station. Phil Sheridan had arrived, and dispatched a message to Grant requesting that the infantry be brought up in prelude to a morning attack that he was confident would bring Lee to his knees.10

Robert E. Lee was desperate to seek an escape route through the blue line. At daybreak on April 9, Palm Sunday, Rebel cannons commenced firing volleys and gray-clad cavalry appeared from the dense fog to attack Custer’s dismounted troopers. This last-ditch effort by Lee was thwarted when the Yankee infantry roared forward to reinforce the position and push the Rebels back. Custer mounted his men and moved them south with the intention of striking the Confederate flank.11

“Custer took the road at a gallop,” recalled a member of the First New York Cavalry. “It was a glorious sight to see that division as it dashed along, with sabres drawn, the gallant Custer leading, and the Confederate army on a parallel road, only three hundred yards distant, vainly endeavoring to escape.” Custer was readying his regiment for a charge, when a lone Confederate staff officer rode forward carrying a stick with a white towel attached.12

Major Robert Sims of General Longstreet’s staff was received by Custer, and stated that General Lee requested that hostilities be suspended. Custer admitted that he was not the commander on the field, and would attack unless Lee agreed to an unconditional surrender. He then sent word back to Sheridan and dispatched his chief of staff, Lieutenant Colonel Edward W. Whitaker, to accompany Major Sims to obtain an answer to his surrender demand.13

The Civil War was about to end on Custer’s doorstep—that can be documented. The exact circumstances surrounding Custer’s role in this surrender entreaty, however, has become a matter of controversy.

Eyewitness accounts—primarily a questionable remembrance by James Longstreet written thirty-one years after the incident—suggest that after dispatching Whitaker, Custer crossed the Confederate line and was presented to Longstreet. Custer demanded that Longstreet surrender the army. Longstreet allegedly was irritated by the brash young general, and refused—citing the fact that he was not the commander. In addition, Longstreet was said to have taunted Custer by boldly professing that the Rebs were not beaten and that Custer could attack if he damn well pleased. He then ordered Custer out of his lines. Longstreet claimed that Custer meekly retired, asking for an escort to safely return to friendly lines.14

In another account, Major Sims confirmed Longstreet’s basic version. Sims entered Union lines carrying a flag that he said was “a new and clean white crash towel, one of a lot for which I had paid $20 or $40 apiece in Richmond a few days before.” He had braved Federal pickets that fired upon him, and requested to see Sheridan but was told that only Custer was available. Sims relayed his message to Custer, who replied that nothing less than an unconditional surrender would be accepted. Sims departed with Whitaker to report back to Longstreet. When he arrived at Longstreet’s headquarters, Custer was already there. Sims wrote, “I found General Custer and he [Longstreet] talking together at a short distance from the position occupied by the staff. Custer said he would proceed to attack at once and Longstreet replied: ‘As soon as you please,’ but he did not attack. Just after I left Custer came in sight of our lines. He halted his troops and, taking a handkerchief from his orderly, displayed it as a flag and rode into our lines. He was surrounded by some of our people and was being handled a little roughly when an old classmate of his recognized him and rescued him.”15

Although Custer without question would have relished the glory associated with being the officer who accepted the Confederate surrender, he was West Point–educated and would have understood protocol in such matters. If he had indeed crossed the lines, it was perhaps out of concern for Whitaker’s well-being. Longstreet’s challenge to attack would not have been taken seriously. The Rebels were whipped, and Custer, though a man of action, would never have welcomed another slaughter.

Regardless of Custer’s participation in prelude to the actual surrender, that afternoon Lee presented himself to Grant at the home of Wilmer McLean. “General Grant was standing beneath an apple tree when General Lee approached,” remembered saddler Charles H. Crocker of the First New York Cavalry. “After a hand clasp, Lee removed his side arms and handed them to Grant who, after holding them for a moment, returned them to Lee.” The two commanders then retired inside to McLean’s parlor, and signed the surrender document.16

Custer was not present inside the McLean home during the signing; rather, he had been placed on the porch or in the yard renewing acquaintances with Southern friends from his days at West Point.

The small oval-shaped pine table upon which the surrender document had been signed was purchased for twenty dollars by Phil Sheridan. The next day, the cavalry commander handed the table to Custer as a gift to Libbie Custer. Sheridan enclosed a note, which read, “My dear Madam, I respectfully present to you the small writing table on which the conditions for the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia were written by Lt. General Grant—and permit me to say, Madam, that there is scarcely an individual in our service who has contributed more to bring about this desirable result than your gallant husband.” Libbie Custer treasured the table for the remainder of her life. After her death, the surrender table was added to the collection of the Smithsonian Institution.17

Edward W. Whitaker, chief of staff of the Third Division, summed up George Armstrong Custer’s importance in the closing days of the war, “The country will never know the whole truth, or how much it owes to General Custer for turning the tide of battle to victory in the three last decisive engagements, Waynesboro, Five Forks and Appomattox Station. Failure in either one of these would have resulted in the prolongation of the war indefinitely.”18

Custer, never one to ignore or take for granted that his achievements depended on the fidelity of his troops, penned a classic tribute on April 9 to the achievements of the cavalrymen of his Third Division:

With profound gratitude toward the God of battles, by whose blessings our enemies have been humbled and our arms rendered triumphant, your commanding general avails himself of this his first opportunity to express to you the admiration of the heroic manner in which you have passed through the series of battles which to-day resulted in the surrender of the enemy’s entire army. The record established by your indomitable courage is unparalleled in the annals of war. Your prowess won for you even the respect and admiration of your enemies. During the past six months, although in most instances confronted by superior numbers, you have captured from the enemy in open battle 111 pieces of field artillery, 65 battle-flags, and upward of 10,000 prisoners of war, including 7 general officers. Within the past ten days, and included in the above, you have captured 46 pieces of field artillery and 37 battle-flags. You have never lost a gun, never lost a color, and have never been defeated, and notwithstanding the numerous engagements in which you have borne a prominent part, including those memorable battles of the Shenandoah, you have captured every piece of artillery which the enemy has dared to open upon you. The near approach of peace renders it improbable that you will again be called upon to undergo the fatigues of toilsome march, or the exposure of the battle-field, but should the assistance of keen blades, wielded by your sturdy arms, be required to hasten the coming of that glorious peace for which we have been so long contending, the general commanding is proudly confident that in the future, as in the past, every demand will meet with a hearty and willing response. Let us hope that our work is done, and that, blessed with the comforts of home and friends.

For our comrades who have fallen, let us ever cherish a grateful remembrance. To the wounded and to those who languish in Southern prisons, let our heartfelt sympathies be tendered.

And now, speaking for myself alone, when the war is ended and the task of the historian begins; when those deeds of daring which have rendered the name and fame of the Third Cavalry Division imperishable, are inscribed upon the bright pages of our country’s history, I only ask that my name be written as that of the commander of the Third Cavalry Division.19

The Army of the Potomac was honored by the country on May 23 with a parade in the nation’s capital. Crowds of cheering admirers packed the route from the Capitol to the White House, where a reviewing stand had been erected. The cavalry led the procession: first Merritt—in place of Sheridan, who was in Louisiana—and then Custer’s Third Division, each man adorned in a bright red necktie.20

General Horace Porter later wrote, “Conspicuous among the division leaders was Custer, his long golden curls floating in the wind, his low-cut collar, crimson neck-tie, buckskin breeches—half General, half scout, daredevil in appearance.”21

Major General Custer proudly led his men down the street seated upon Don Juan, his favorite mount. The reviewing stand was in sight when—by most accounts—a group of young ladies rose to their feet and began to sing while showering Custer with flowers. Don Juan became spooked by this unexpected disturbance, and bolted in the direction of the reviewing stand.22

General Porter described the scene, “Within 200 yards of the President’s stand his spirited horse took the bit in its teeth, and made a dash past the troops like a tornado. But Custer was more than a match for him. When the Cavalry-man, covered with flowers, afterwards rode by the officials the people screamed with delight.” Detractors accused Custer of orchestrating the display simply to show off.23

Whatever the circumstances, George Armstrong Custer had made his final charge of the Civil War.