FLASH BACK

 

 

To Mrs. George G. Meade

 

HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC, Appomattox Court House, April 10, 1865.

 

The telegram will have announced to you the surrender of Lee and the Army of Northern Virginia. I have been to-day in the rebel camp; saw Lee, Longstreet, and many others, all affable and cordial, and they uniformly said that, if any conciliatory policy was extended to the South, peace would be at once made.  It seemed impolitic to draw attention to the reality and magnitude of my victory, so I drew aside with Gen’l Gordon who appeared desirous of private communication.

 

He pointed out a Union officer standing at some distance and enquired as to his name.  I could barely make out the man’s features through the malarious catarrh, which has given me such a great deal of trouble.   It is I am convinced aggravated by the reading of newspapers, which since this movement commenced, are full of falsehood and of undue and exaggerated praise of certain individuals who take pains to be on the right side of the reporters.

 

The unknown officer, said Gordon, must be of importance for he was present in the house during the writing and signing of the surrender document.   This does not at all follow for Sheridan was there and I myself was not, the catarrh having prevented me from accepting Lee’s surrender earlier in the day, and which he was thus forced to offer to Grant in my stead.   Gordon went on to say that the self-same officer, an Englishman by his accent, had attempted to surrender himself and the entire Union army in the early dawn this very day, claiming to believe that his (Gordon’s) assault had defeated me.  Had that been, asked Gordon, some kind of subterfuge on my part? 

 

I looked more carefully at the man and there was in his bearing and the set of his whiskers, that which brought to mind Stuart or Custer at his most effulgent.  But no name came to me. 

 

Instead, it brought to mind an incident at Gettysburg so long ago that I had quite neglected to tell you of.  After Lee’s futile charge on the third day I found a brave colonel in gray laying almost at the entrance to my headquarters.  He had reached farther than any other in that doomed assault by Pickett and lay like one dead.  My orderly Kowell was removing his boot, the left I fancy, which seemed to rouse the fellow at once, kicking and struggling enough to earn himself the point of the bayonet had I not intervened. 

 

“Let loose this gallant colonel” I said “And be about your business!”   The private moved off and you may remember that I later found Kowell greatly changed for the better by my comradely chastisement, saving the effects of young Wesley Culp on behalf of a sister.   

 

The rebel colonel, miraculously recovered from his ordeal, told a wild tale of secret operations and produced a commission as major in the U.S. army from inside the left boot, which lay now beside him.  He was an Englishman as well although the name escapes me.  He was most anxious to report to authorities in New York city so I sent him there with an escort and heard no more of him.   He too had impressive whiskers. 

 

That was I suppose the connection made in my mind.  It could not have been the same man at the surrender.  As is the case with my victory over Lee, I don't believe the truth ever will be known, and I have a great contempt for History. Only let the war be finished, and I returned to you and the dear children, and I will be satisfied.