He Really Was There

Truth be told, as a high school student, I could not boast that the highlight of my academic day was the subject of history. There might have been an infinitesimal edge to my preference for European history over American history, but all told, neither rated much above the bottom of the stack for my class preferences. The Civil War, in my mind, was a hazy blur of dates, innumerable unrecognizable names and titles, and military minutiae beyond my grasp.

History fared not one bit worse in my college years—nor one whit better.

And here I am now, trying to fathom the names of battles, dates of campaigns, and geographic descriptions of a region of the country I’ve rarely visited—all for the sake of uncovering any trace of ancestor involvement.

It took my husband—the war history enthusiast—to point out the obvious to me. Here I’ve been posting links to listings of military companies, being sure to scour the long readout of names for that one that makes all the difference—the name of my great-great-grandfather, Thomas Taliaferro Broyles. I’ve found records of his enlistment close to the beginning of the conflict. I’ve found listings including his name toward the end of the hostilities.

And yet, I didn’t get it. It didn’t dawn on me exactly what to be present at Appomattox actually meant. The statement, “Paroles signed by Col. A. C. Haskell, 7^th S. C. Cav.” didn’t translate in my mind into what had actually taken place under the guise of those words. I just didn’t get it.

“He was there,” my husband incredulously explained to me, not sure why I couldn’t comprehend, “He was there!”

“So he was there when they had to admit they lost?” I can be dense about such things, but perhaps it’s because I really hate losing.

My husband assured me it was a big deal—a really, really big deal. Those in attendance actually made arrangements to buy—or swipe—furniture from the site of the actual formalities, I’ve read, because of the historical significance of the day.

While my Thomas T. Broyles wasn’t at the actual meeting between Ulysses S. Grant and Robert E. Lee at Wilmer McLean’s front parlor on April 9, 1865, according to records, he was present at the surrender at the Battle of Appomattox Court House. For this, he and his comrades were spared the disgrace of imprisonment or prosecution for treason. Allowed to keep their horses, their side-arms and their personal baggage—though surrendering their government-issued arms—the men were provided with food rations with which to begin their journey homeward.

While in my mind, this would not be seen as a notable time for those who were defeated, I guess I can admit that this was, no matter which side a man fought on, a moment of great, historic import.

No matter how my ancestor might have felt that day, knowing that I can trace my roots back to someone who stood in that very location at that precise time is an eye-opener to me. If nothing else, it does bring me to the point where I can see history—especially military history—in a much different light than before.


Above right: Lithograph, 1867, "The Room in the McLean House, at Appomattox C. H., in which Gen. Lee Surrendered to Gen. Grant." Print commissioned by Wilmer McLean; at Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division, Washington, D. C.; courtesy Wikipedia, which includes a listing of identification of each subject present; in the public domain.