Yankees storm Linden Courthouse

The day was chilly, a brisk wind was blowing out of the north, though the bright sunshine pierced my eyes on that day, May 12, 1863. The Ladies were out bustling about town, some in mourning garb as they had just come from the funeral of a soldier.

The funeral was a sad event, the soldier had also been a doctor in town and he co-owned a mercantile. The widow placed a wreath on the grave and stood aside to watch the 13 gun salute. As the smoke cleared the air and the ladies silently wept, the Chaplin offered a closing prayer. He prayed for safety, closure to the war, and preservation of the Confederate States of America.

The crowd moved into town, across from the court house, where a pot-luck brunch was set up, and the townspeople milled about, chatting about the war, their sons, death and the lifestyle they could lose. There was a doctor's tent and a small camp set up on the courthouse lawn; the Confederate army knew the Yankees were close, and moving in, but they didn't know how close they were, if they would by-pass the town or stop in to ravage things, as they had done in so many towns nearby.

Presently they heard the volley of gun-fire just south-west of town, and the tension in the air increased 10 fold. The soldiers herded the townspeople away from the courthouse, into an alley between two buildings, surely they would be safe there if an attack should come. But, lo, from the very alley that was supposed to be a safe haven, came running a powder boy, about 12 years of age, running like the very devil himself was on his tail, screaming, "THE YANKEES ARE COMIN' THE YANKEES ARE COMIN'!"

Right behind him, (the devil indeed in the eyes of the townspeople) came tearing up the alley the Yankees, whooping and shouting. As soon as they cleared the crowd and got into the street, they knelt and began to fire. It was a small band of Yankees but they were fierce and accurate with their guns.

Having been taken by surprise, the confederate soldiers had no time to load the cannons so they ducked behind the wall surrounding the courthouse and began returning fire. The fight seemed to be an even one until more Yankees arrived from the east side. Confederate soldiers started to fall and it became clear they were going to lose this battle so they ran into the courthouse, opening windows on the second floor and sending shots from inside. Still no Yankees fell.

One young soldier slumped on the window sill of a second floor room, many were dead and wounded on the lawn. The gun fire subsided for a moment, giving the Yankees a chance to storm into the courthouse. Presently the doors opened again, letting out a stream of confederate soldiers, arms in the air, guns held upside down. As they stepped over the dead and wounded, some of them broke to run, and the battle was on again.

Once again, the confederates, feeling the sting of losing more comrades, dove into the courthouse for protection, and once again, the Yankees went in, herded them up and marched them out.

The Yankees decided to burn the courthouse, to flush out any remaining soldiers hiding in there and to prevent any more from ducking back in there. The ladies watched in horror as their soldiers fell and were marched out in shame with a Yankee rifle pointing at their backs.

It was interesting to see that the Yankees left the medical tent alone, and the medics were not harmed as they worked to pick bullets out of a soldiers leg.

After the battle I came back to 2010 and went home, reflecting on what I had just witnessed. As a Yankee myself, in a confederate state, it was strange to hear the Chaplin pray for the preservation of the lifestyle, (slavery) and the preservation of the Confederate States of America. But more so, it was sad to see brother against brother in that battle, such a small slice of the whole war. In such a short time, maybe 20 minutes in all, the town had been turned upside down, the most important building in the town reduced to ashes. Having the advantage of being 'from the future', I knew that the lifestyle that these people had become accustomed to, the riches gained from their huge [labor camp] plantations was soon to be all gone. Life would change dramatically for them, while not so much for the Yankees. Of course, the north lost lives too, cotton, wheat, and other commodities from the south would become dear in the aftermath of the war, but the lifestyle would just go on. Get up in the morning, milk the cow, go to work in a printing press, iron forge, clothing factory...

It was an interesting day, in all. I'm glad I don't live in that time! Yes, there is a war now, soldiers march and die, but we don't see it, it's not in our back yards. In my comfortable lifestyle, that probably won't change as dramatically or as quickly as the southern genteel did, I am grateful.