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In April 1865 , Greensboro looked like a scene from "Gone with the Wind ." Chaos and lawlessness reigned; fear and death ruled the streets. And in this small, central North Carolina town, the Confederacy crumbled.

"The events that led to the final demise of the Confederacy played out in Greensboro," wrote Bradley R. Foley , editor of The Guilford Genealogist and co-author of a new book, "The Civil War Ends: Greensboro, April 1865 ," published this month as a part of the city's bicentennial observance. "Unfortunately, Greensboro's role in the Civil War has gone largely unnoticed."

That's surprising, given the fact that some historians call that April the most tumultuous month in the city's history.

In a matter of weeks, a town of about 1,800 ballooned, according to one estimate, to 90,000 .

The influx included sick, wounded and dying soldiers, refugees uprooted by approaching armies, gangs of armed deserters, local women desperate for food, emancipated slaves awaiting final freedom, Union prisoners of war turned loose on the streets, the Confederate president and his beleaguered Cabinet, the governor of North Carolina and troops from both the North and South .

"Greensboro was no longer the beautiful, quiet, delightful place of yore," Col. James Reid Cole , a member of the North Carolina Home Guard , wrote of that period. "Our town was now in a miserable condition."

As April progressed, Greensboro residents braced first for battle and then for peace, freedom or defeat.

Before 1865, Greensboro's contributions to the war had consisted primarily of supplying troops, manufacturing rifles, publishing Confederate-oriented school books and providing moral support and sacrifice for the troops. Even the bell at the Presbyterian church had been offered to the cause. The town also served the Confederacy as a major rail hub.

The two railroads — the Piedmont and the North Carolina — turned the town into a vital supply point. State and Confederate warehouses dotted areas near the tracks and first made the town a target for Union cavalry and then for looters.

As the war wound down, those trains brought thousands of refugees, wounded soldiers and deserters to Greensboro.

As Union Gen. William T. Sherman moved into the heart of North Carolina in March, hundreds of people fled here, seeking food, shelter and safety. They joined refugees from earlier conflicts in eastern North Carolina.

Still more turned up after Gen. Robert E. Lee ordered the evacuation of Richmond, Va., on April 2 .

But Greensboro had other problems.

On the night of March 19 , the first trainload of sick and wounded soldiers arrived from the Battle of Bentonville , a three-day fight southeast of Raleigh that pitted Confederate forces under Gen. Joseph E. Johnston against Sherman.

Eventually, as many as 1,000 soldiers filled a dozen makeshift hospitals in Greensboro.

As many as 200 lay on the floor of the courthouse at Market and Elm streets, where the Lincoln National building now stands.

"I selected the platform inside of the rail where the judge's desk used to be, for my place, and went out into the street and begged an armful of hay from a wagon, and with two bricks for a pillow, made my bed," wrote Arthur P. Ford, a patient. "Here I lay for three weeks with fever."

The women of the town brought food three times a day.

So many men died, according to one account, that the bodies were "laid out until they turned black."

About 230 soldiers died unidentified.

***

The town's troubles mounted with the coming of April.

Hundreds more sick and wounded arrived by train from Richmond. Federal forces began to threaten the region.

As word spread that Union Gen. George Stoneman's cavalry had swept into western North Carolina, Johnston ordered troops to Greensboro to protect the town and its supply depots.

On April 10 and 11 , Stoneman's raiders struck Salem, Jamestown and High Point, cutting telegraph lines, tearing up railroad tracks, burning trestles and destroying supply depots and thousands of bales of cotton.

The additional defenders turned Greensboro into an armed camp.

Troops took up defensive positions on the western side of town. Artillery pieces and wagons rumbled through the streets. Officers galloped from place to place. Sentinels stood guard. Campfires flickered on hillsides.

Residents feared Greensboro would be the next battlefield.

Men buried family valuables; others guarded against horse thieves.

"The town was in a perfect uproar," wrote James W. Albright, a local printer. "The Yankees (were) expected every minute."

***

On April 11 , morale suffered another blow. It looked as if the war would be lost.

"More and more bad news," Sarah Kate Sperry Hunt , a visitor to town, wrote in her diary. "Lee has surrendered his whole army. ... O my God, can it be?"

That same day, Confederate President Jefferson Davis and members of his Cabinet arrived by train from Danville , temporarily turning Greensboro into the capital of the Confederacy.

While in Greensboro, Davis received confirmation of Lee's surrender. Witnesses said Davis wept.

"Everything is dark," he wrote to his wife, Varina . "You should prepare for the worst. ..."

Davis wanted to fight on.

On April 13 , he met with Johnston in a house on South Elm Street. The general told him: "It would be the greatest of human crimes for us to attempt to continue the war."

Reluctantly, Davis agreed that Johnston could contact Sherman about a truce.

***

As officials worked out surrender terms, conditions in Greensboro worsened.

The soldiers assigned to protect the town began to desert, fearful they would be taken captive if the war ended. Civilians worried that the town would be overrun by Yankees if Johnston's men abandoned them. More than 200 Union prisoners of war wandered the town unguarded.

Worse still, the remnants of Lee's army began to fill the town. Tattered, weary and hopeless, many took what they wanted — food, wagons, horses.

"Greensboro's worst enemy came from within," Howard O. Hendricks , a history instructor at Alamance Community College , wrote in a thesis called "City Imperiled."

"Rioting crowds surged through the streets causing destruction and death."

By mid-April, armed bands of deserters, refugees and desperate locals — including women — began to loot supply depots and railroad cars filled with rations, blankets, clothing, tools and medical supplies.

The mayhem could have lasted up to 10 days.

Targets likely included a warehouse on East Market Street near the railroad tracks, another near 101 S. Elm St. near what is now The Law Center, and a third in the vicinity of the current Elm-McGee Street parking lot.

"Riot and plunder and storming of houses were following rapidly upon each other," James Reid Cole wrote. "The main streets and by-streets and yards and houses were crowded with desperate soldiers who were reckless because of their final defeat."

During the looting of one warehouse, soldiers arrived and exchanged fire with the rioters.

"For a few minutes the crack of musketry was rapid and deadly, both sides battled, but soon the desperate mob fled," Cole wrote. "Four men were shot down and slain in the melee — all belonging to the mob."

At another, a witness marveled at the women in the crowd.

James P. Hawkins , who watched the plunder at one warehouse, wrote: "Nearly everything was carried off by the mob, consisting principally of these N.C. women (who beat everything I ever saw in the shape of females) and cavalry, citizens and negroes."

***

Surrounding communities encountered looting, too.

When a mob ransacked a supply depot in McLeansville , a carload of shells exploded. The blast broke open barrels of supplies.

"Hungry women dipped up molasses from the gutters in buckets," Foley wrote. "Hopeless men lapped up liquor like dogs."

Women whose husbands had died in the war or who remained at the front experienced particular hardships.

On April 9 , Nancy Mangum of McLeansville complained to Gov. Zebulon Vance about the shortage of food.

"A crowd of we women went to Greensboro yesterday for something to eat as we had not a mouthful of meat nor bread in my house," she wrote. "(W)hat did they do but put us in jail? I have six little children and my husband in the army and what am I to do?"

But the governor had his own problems.

Vance had fled Raleigh as Sherman approached and reached Greensboro on April 16 , making the town the state's temporary capital. But by the time the governor arrived, Davis and his Cabinet had departed for Charlotte .

As Davis and Vance tried to flee any fighting, Sherman and Johnston sought to end it.

On April 26 — their third meeting — Johnston and Sherman signed a surrender agreement at a farm near Durham now called Bennett Place.

***

Johnston's men would lay down their arms at Greensboro, where their paroles would be issued.

Around town, some welcomed the news; others lamented it.

"I walked around town this morning and the relics of the departed C onfederacy reminded me of the abandoned remains of some large circus," John Dooley , a Virginia captain , wrote on April 27 . "I gaze on the ruins of a fallen republic."

For some, the news brought reflection.

"We had a dreadful night, all hands up and talking over the situation," Samuel T. Foster , a Texas cavalry officer , wrote on April 28 .

"They go over the war again, count up the killed and wounded, then the results obtained. It is too bad. If crying had done any good, we would have cried all night. ... Who is to blame for all this waste of human life?"

Thousands of soldiers — many who spent their time drinking, gambling and brawling — awaited their final orders. Others fled town hoping to fight another day.

In the end, nearly 40,000 rebels received their paroles here, compared to just over 28,000 at Appomattox. The men left behind thousands of guns, 146 cannons, 300 wagons, 45 locomotives and 1,000 freight cars.

"After turning in our guns and getting our paroles, we feel relieved," Foster wrote.

"No more picket duty, no more guard duty, no more fighting, no more war. It's all over and we're going home."

As the Confederates moved out, the Yankees moved in, their band playing "Yankee Doodle. "

A reporter for the New York Herald , David P. Conyng­ham , wrote that the transition went smoothly.

"Before night, the rebels and ourselves were on the best possible terms with one another," he wrote. "Rebel and federal soldiers were grouped around the fires, trading coffee, whiskey, meat and tobacco. Some of them were fighting their battles over again."

For many, the Union troops represented despair and defeat.

On the Sunday after the troops arrived, Mary Watson Smith , wife of the Presbyterian pastor, shook her head at the scene: "As we passed along, every street, store, doorway and corner was crowded with federal troops and the whole world looked blue, in unison with our feelings that bitter morning."

For the troops, their presence in Greensboro represented victory after four years of bloodshed and hardship.

"Peace is now established, the Union is saved and the bondman can now enjoy the fruits of his labor," wrote J.W. Gaskill , an infantryman from Ohio . "No more slave pens or auction blocks where families are lost to each other for all time."

And the town had been saved.

"Had the tide of war not been averted, Greensboro surely would have been destroyed," Bradley Foley wrote. "Fortunately, peace pre­vailed."

Contact Donald W. Patterson at 373-7027 or don.patterson@news-record.com