"The Yankees have crossed the river".

Wednesday, April 29, 1863, Along Mine Road, Virginia

We were in camp, the entire brigade, tending to our preparations for eventual battle when the long roll was sounded and we formed up. From what I can tell, the entire division was called to attention with much agitation in the ranks. With great rapidity, the ordnance officers distributed packages of forty rounds to all in the ranks. Any preparations we had been making were terminated due to the necessity at hand.

The Yankees have crossed the river on pontoon bridges in at least two locations south of Fredericksburg. They crossed where General Early's division was and he took measures to meet them. We could hear the exchange of musketry and a sharp cannonade. Our Jackson was quick to form us up and bring our division in behind Early's. I have been told that the divisions of Rodes and Colston are to the right of Early. 

We are resting in formation, ready to move in line of battle should we have to. Old Sol has beat down on us for several hours. We have the protection of our cabins no longer and we all are quite incomfortable. Most of us missed our morning breakfast so we are just now preparing our evening meal. We Dandy Eights have pooled our rations. Hancock and Castles are doing the cooking. The elder Bill Barton has inspected his cartridge box more times than I can count. I am content to sit on this blackjack log and write while supper is being prepared.

Holton had been investigating the contents of his haversack since we halted here. He repeatedly looks around then looks inside his haversack, inserting his hand. He looks around and removes his hand with nothing in it. He waits several moments and then he repeats the spectacle. When I asked the reason for this peculiar demonstration, he replied, "All in due time, Tooms". 

After several more times of repeating this, he inserted his hand one last time and emerged with a dirty poke sack. It was coffee. Real coffee. He explained that some time ago, when we were on picket duty, he met up with a Yankee doing the same. They met in the river and exchanged tobacco and coffee. Holton had kept the coffee a secret waiting for some special occasion to prepare this most wonderful of beverages.

The younger Bill Barton produced our coffee pot and fetched some water. Before long, the pot was on the fire. I am drinking coffee from my tin cup as I write this. Without sugar or milk, it is still grand. All hail Holton, our new hero. 

The odor of real coffee has attracted a good deal of attention. Corporal Flynn and Sergeant Harper came over, cups in hand, pretending this was just a visit. From another squad, Bill Terry and the two John Thompsons, no relation, as far as I can tell, paid us a visit. Terry said that he would give us two crackers and a piece of fatback for a cup of coffee. It would have been polite to decline the offer but we Eights were hungry so everything went into the pan and everyone shared in the skillygalee alike.

First Sergeant Wade and Lieutenant Williamson, were making their rounds, seeing to their people when they sensed the presence of coffee. Neither had their cups with them but we shared both coffee and cups as it was a good time to inquire as to the situation. The Lieutenant said that the Yankees had thrown elements of two corps, Sedgwick's and Reynolds's on to our side of the river. What happens next is a matter of speculation. Do we attack tomorrow morning and throw them into the river before they are re-inforced? Do we hold them in place and await developments? Do we retreat? We know what Jackson would say.