Tuesday, April 14, 2015

The Long Road to Appomattox: 150th anniversary of the surrendering of Lee's troops

 For the 150th anniversary of the assassination and death of Abraham Lincoln, I present to my recent experience at the 150th anniversary of the surrender of General Lee's troops at Appomattox Court House....

It was the morning of April 9th, the day Lee surrendered 150 years ago, when I started my journey east. Weather delayed the flights all day. It could be worse; I could be a surviving Confederate soldier, hunted, hungry, and struggling with the realization this morning that the last four years of hardship were coming to a miserable end. The destination for my flights was Richmond, for the former capital of the Confederacy that was abandoned and still smoldering at the time of the surrender. There waited my father.

The gallant men of the 28th Mass.

I fell-in with my dad’s unit, the 28th Mass. Co. B, US Volunteers. It has been over ten years since I last fell in with them, at the 140th anniversary Cedar Creek in 2004. This is a dad-n-lad thing for us. Some fathers and sons have camping, fishing, hunting, or cars. We have Living History. Sometimes when we get together that is all we talk about. We both started at the same time and have included other family members such as my brother and my cousin and even my sister.

Fridays are usually setting up days. The event had to make due for the weather and bad dirt roads, not much different than the armies during the Civil War but havoc for pedestrians and drivers alike today. Our camp was at the end of the road, second farthest from everything and made decisions like wandering down to Sutler Row a daunting time consuming task. I met my dad’s unit, but I didn’t recognize any of them from my time before. My dad’s group is your average slightly better than mainstream unit, mostly older with a few younger guys, a loud mouth or two, and a Jonah (a term for “that guy” everyone wishes was not present). We get on well enough and there was no drama. The fire-pit conversations were lively, we sang songs, and the craic was great. After hours around the fire are often the best part of this hobby.

The 'optional' battle from the crowd; the Confederates
right company comes on to line
Saturday morning held several changes; indeed the plan changed every hour or so. The battles were held on some lovely green rolling hills. The fight itself was like many I have been in before, which this one was an attack by the Confederates and and brief stand up fight, followed by repeated flank maneuvers to box them in and drive them back. The boxing-in maneuvers meant we were constantly “dressing the line” to the left. The second battle was optional and I took it to go peruse the Sutler’s Row. A sutler was a vendor who sold goods to soldiers of a particular unit that the government did not provide like canned goods or candy like the PX today; the modern equivalent sutlers sell whatever they want. Most sell a little bit of everything: uniforms, leather gear, tinware, accessories, tents, books, hats, and toys for kids. Some specialize in hats or women’s clothing.
The Parole line
One of the highlights that attracted this event was Living Historian-led scenarios of Confederate surrender. The US Volunteer organization prepared a weapon surrender ceremony, guards for the gear, a parole station for the Confederate soldiers to sign paperwork that would mean they could go home without further obstruction, and provided some food such as ground coffee, hard crackers, and potatoes. This scenario was why I came, to see it end. What should have been a bang was more of a pop, but it was still pretty neat to see that and be a part of it.


The climatic payoff was on Sunday. Not much
 was going on at the event site but the USV was
Troops receiving food

invited to participate at the surrendering of the troops at the Appomattox Court House National Park. It was going to be a very busy day to make that happen. We marched down to a back gate of the event,  were loaded onto six tour buses, and were dropped off at the site. We formed and marched to the end of the Richmond stage coach line, supposedly the direction the Union troops came from to accept the surrendering Confederates. As we swung into town I was seized by a sudden gravity of the moment when I recognized the McClain house, the site of where Generals Grant and Lee had met to sign the formal surrender and it filled me that this was happening and I was a part of it.

Marching to Appomattox Court House

It was eerily quiet, the troops and their marching, the crowds and their watching, no cheers, no encouragement, no narrator or announcer, just the simple report of the lone drum sounding the cadence. The combined Union troops lined the road in battle lines faced in. The command of the Confederate officers were the only sounds. As they approached, the command was given to salute.

“Halt! Front!” The column of grey and brown troops faced us. One fellow looked despondent, the rest sullen.

“Stack arms!” With quiet precision they formed their stacks of rifles, the band played “Auld Lang Syne” and a few other hymns. The command came for them to leave their equipment, slung on the bayonets or dropped beneath the rifles and the flag bearer draped their battle banners over the men so each man could touch their flag before furling and placing them on the stacks. One flag was a rough branch with strips of torn flag cloth which suggested that the soldiers ripped up the flag to keep pieces as mementos or to destroy it rather than surrender t. The man beside me is crying and I felt like it too.

The surrendering troops at Appomattox
Court House National Park
“Right face!” The troops step into the flank.
“Forward March!” and like that, they were gone. A lone straggling Confederate with a scrap of parole paper wandered behind them, numb with shock, fatigue, or hunger I know not which. Perhaps he was a symbol of the South; unsure and uncertain of where to go or what to do next. The next commands were for us. We right faced ourselves and marched away. That was it. Everything else after that was inconsequential. It was essentially boarding buses, tearing down camp, saying goodbye to comrades, and driving away.

I have wondered from time to time,"Why do I do Civil War Living History? What compels me to study this time period more than others?” To be honest, I don’t have a definitive answer. I think that because it was so fierce, so innovative, so dramatic, and so impacting. To say that it is simply 'fun' does not quite satisfy me personally. It is far deeper, but I don’t know exactly from where it comes from. To be there at the 150th anniversary of the de facto ending War Between the States had profound meaning for me as a person who has spent considerable amount of time talking about it, living it, and researching it. One of the concepts and interpretive assets an interpreter has is to use the Power of Place. Explaining what happened right here, on this very spot where history was made, means so much more and has a greater impact than explaining exactly the same thing elsewhere. We identify with the people in history in the location because we are standing where they stood while things changed. We see the lay of the land, similar surroundings, and think, “What was it like to be here when this happened; was this what it was like?” To be
Ryan at the surrender

there for the 150th anniversary only a few days after the exact event happened creates a powerful interpretive opportunity. We coupled being in the right place, at about the right time, with a display that set the mood for what it may have looked like and hopefully created a lasting impact on the visitors who witnessed it. I know that it has made an impact on me, and the crying fellow beside me in the battle line. He told me that he had waited 25 years for this. It will definitely part of my lifetime milestones, part of my career as a historical interpreter, and part of wild and wonderful stories I tell.

This summer I am hoping to participate in another 150th anniversary event at Ft. Snelling in Minnesota. No battles, just a simple mustering out of troops who had gone to war and had come home for good and a discussion about the importance of commemoration. So stay tuned for that in an upcoming post this later summer!

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