Dear Lord, Father of us all, please let it rain just as hard on your Yankee children as it is raining on your poor Confederate children. I do not know where all this rain is coming from but I know where it is going. Straight through our trenches. In our old works, near the Boisseau House, we built them last summer when it was warmer and drier. We could even build our cabin, our refuge from the wet and the cold, before the weather could hinder or destroy our efforts.
Now, some months later and some miles south, we throw up a shovelful of earth and half of it washed down to our feet as mud. Our shoes and socks are continuously wet and there is little chance to dry them or any other part of our now fish-like bodies. If this keeps up, we will all ask for a transfer to the Navy. The rain has slackened somewhat during the last hour or so. Thank you, Lord.
We have been issued what passes for rations but we still are on the hunt for fresh meat, in the form of rat. The haversack that I took from my captured Yankee yesterday contained but three hardtack biscuits but also a fair-sized piece of meat. All of this plus the edible remains of what the rest of us had went into the cook pot and we shared and shared alike. The entire contents of the pot would not have made a single decent meal.
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| All a Yankee is worth are his shoes and haversack. |
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| Salt pork, sometimes called salt horse and a few other names. In 1997, I purchased it from a Food Lion in Roanoke Virginia to use with Civil War soldiery programs for school kids. This photo is a half-hour old. Yum. |
We Eights now number six. We who remain were holding a discussion on replacing our losses to elevate our mess to an authorized strength when the brigade was ordered to fall in. We went straight to the area of yesterday's battle. We supposed that we would try again to catch the Yankees in the flank. They were not there. The Yankees had vanished.
We then marched towards Dinwiddie Court House, hoping to find someone to fire upon. Wherever we looked, we saw evidence of Yankee occupancy but the residents were no where to be seen in every direction. As we were looking for the enemy, we kept our eye out for whatever impedimenta that they may have left behind. We were particularly interested in anything by way of rations and ammunition.
We did not find much of use. Hancock found a good waist belt and plate. Terry and Vincent each found a blanket. Taylor found one package of cartridges but as they were soaking wet, he tossed them away. Hunter took the prize. He had found a nearly new Springfield musket. All attempts to persuade him to part with it failed. I found nothing.
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| Cartridges. |
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| Original Civil War blanket. |
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| There were several models of Springfield rifle used during the war. This is the Model 1863. |
Since this wild goose chase was a fruitless exercise, we returned, in the rain it is needless to say, back to our flooded works to the left of Johnson's division. The Twelfth had drawn picket duty so we marched off to take up advanced positions ahead of the main line of works.
While there, we tried to halloo the Yanks just to determine if any were in our front. Silence. The two Crenshaws, much to our objections, crawled forward to see what was there. They went as far as they thought safe to do so and then came back. They reported that the Yankee lines were deserted. We thought this important enough to report their findings to Corporal Flynn who, in turn, told Sergeant Harper who then told Lieutenant Williamson. We presume this intelligence went further up but it is not for us high privates to concern ourselves much about this.
While on picket, we heard much firing from behind us and to our far right. Someone was catching merry ned. The rain has almost ceased.
I had put this pencil down some hours ago thinking that the day's events were over. Hancock, good man that he is, lent me a candle to continue today's entries. Johnson's division has gone. Our right is exposed by their absence. Where did they go? Where did the Yankees go? We are checking our ammunition.
I Send You these Few Lines
The Confederates left their works and went to the site of yesterday's battle of White Oak Road in the hopes of finding another open flank to attack and perhaps roll up a piece of the Union lines. There was no one around to shoot at. Warren's V Corps, which was chewed up by yesterday's fighting, has left the area.
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| Major General Gouverneur L. Warren, V Corps commander. |
General Pickett's division, as previous;y mentioned in another blog post, was sent by General Lee to an area far from the end of the Confederate defenses to secure the Southside Railroad from General Sheridan's cavalry. Pickett and Sheridan had gotten into it and Sheridan was getting bested by Pickett. Sheridan called for the closest infantry for support and that would be V Corps under Warren.
The commotion Tooms and his pards heard while on picket duty was the Battle of Five Forks. Much has been written about this critical battle and I won't try to do it justice here. The short version is that with Warren's reinforcements, Sheridan felt strong enough to attack Pickett and cut the railroad.
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| Battle of Five Forks, a fanciful view. |
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| Major General George Pickett |
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| Major General Philip Sheridan |
Both Pickett and Fitzhugh Lee, the cavalry commander, were at a shad bake when the battle opened. Thanks to a condition known as acoustic shadow, where factors of weather and/or topography combine to mask sounds, neither general was aware of Sheridan's and Warren's attack until it was too late to recover the situation. The greybacks suffered a crushing defeat.
Some of Lee's cavalry, being cavalry, was able to escape the debacle. Many of the infantry could suffer no other fate than death or capture. Between 4,000 and 4,500 of Pickett's men were captured. Picket's division was destroyed for the second time in the war. Gettysburg was the first.
For Robert E. Lee, the situation has gone from very bad to very critical. A large Union force, one that Lee no longer has the soldiers to remove, has cut the last rail supply line. Johnson's division has been ordered to Sutherland's Station, on the Southside Railroad which is not far from the western edges of Petersburg. With Pickett out of the way, Sheridan and Warren can now follow the railroad to a point in Lee's right rear. This must not happen.
It is well that Tooms has ended his diary entries for the day. At ten, it begins.
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