in the telling that I had to, was compelled to see in person.On April 12, 1865 General Chamberlain walked down the road in dress uniform followed by the military band in full colors. Flags flying, the sound of Battle Cry of Freedom filled the air. The Union troops followed, soon to line up on either side of the road.
In 1865, some 20,000 Confederate soldiers marched on the Stage (coach) Road with rifles, bayonets, musical instruments, ammunition belts. What was extraordinary was that the Union soldiers saluted as this bedraggled depleted army marched in front of them. And as the Confederates took off their belts and stacked the guns and regimental colors in the center of the road, the Union soldiers stood at attention in silence. A band played Battle Cry of Freedom, Dixie, and a variety of hymns that would have been familiar and brought some solace to both sides.
So it was on this day 150 years later that about 50 people stood among the 200 or so Union soldiers and watched as the 100 Confederate troops passed by with many civilians among them as well. As they stacked their arms, one of the civilians was handed the regimental flag, carrying it down the line for all to touch. I could not imagine his feelings, but saw him hold back tears even as mine were flowing.
What were the tears about? Reaching a personal goal? Being part of the Union cause? Stepping into this military guise to experience the pain and sorrow and even pride? Acknowledging the deep felt devotion on either side and wondering if the war is really over even today?Believe me, when it was over, those of us who had spent the week there could not leave each other or this park that was the most significant battlefield at the end of a long a brutal war.
