April 2nd, 1865 [evening]

Every man was anxious as the Rebels hurried to the innermost parts of the city. They were visibly rattled, almost confused as they all moved to their commanded positions.

Pennon met Sandler, who was at his post.

“It would appear the surprise attack stirred the General into action.”

“Yes, but our orders aren’t very optimistic ones: ‘hold your position in the city until the last man, or nightfall, whichever comes first.’” Matthew shook his head. “Let’s just pray the Yankees don’t get wind that General Robert E. Lee is here. If they do they’ll be attacking like hounds from hell. Yes sir, they will.”

“Well, look on the bright side, Matt. If it pleases the Lord, we’ll be across the Appomattox by morning’”

“It would have to be a miracle NOT to be in glory tonight.”

George Pennon moved on to his post. As he stood there, waiting for the night to simply be over without excitement. He couldn’t imagine sleeping tonight, even if he wasn’t on duty. The city was unnervingly quiet. He peered out, straining to notice any movement in the Union camps. Pennon turned and shuffled nervously as he settled for a long night of anticipation.

 

No shot was fired that night. The union scouts spotted an artillery battery outside Lee’s head quarters, and assumed it was part of a huge unseen force. They hesitate to attack, giving the Confederates their much hoped-for evening of peace.