Charlie, his hair plastered to his head with sweat, pulled Jack up to the moving mess tent for a quick lunch and some desperately needed water. He was hailed by Elizabeth.
He rode up to the wagon, and then paced Jack to ride along side it. He took off his hat and bowed from the saddle to Elizabeth. "Dr. Walker, how can I help you?"
"You can help me by finding a place to stop so I can treat these men properly," she growled as she ripped another bandage.
"You know General Sheridan has ordered us to make all possible speed. I fear I cannot stop until we reach the river, Doctor. I am sorry."
"Charlie, I cannot care for these men with the ruts in the road and the swaying of the wagon. Some of these men need stitches. I cannot do it under these conditions."
Charlie drew a deep sigh, then thought for a minute. "If I had your wagons ride toward the front of the line, until you find a place to pull off that is defensible, you could have about an hour or so before you would have to move again. Would that help?"
"I can make do with that. I just need some time to tend to the worst of this."
"All right, let me see to it." Instead of stopping for lunch and a drink, Charlie was off again, this time looking for young Captain Avery of Company I, whom he had just relieved from outrider service.
The days went on with running skirmishes until they reached the locks. The 13th held the northwestern perimeter, as Sheridan’s engineers destroyed the locks and made the upper James River impassible.
--*--
Sunday, March 26, 1865
As the locks fell, the weather, which had been beautiful, changed again. A cold wind with rain blew in from the north; that meant mud. Winter was having her last, brief say.
The roads were muddy and slick as they moved out, south toward Cumberland County. The next goal was to reach the final rail line from Petersburg and Richmond to Lynchburg and the southern end of the Shenandoah Valley. The valley had been the breadbasket of the South; if they could cut the final supply line, the end was in sight. Charlie and his men were tired. It was showing in the way they moved, in the strain on their faces. It showed in the tired arc of the horses’ necks.
It only took a moment. Charlie was distracted; Jack was tired. The horse stepped wrong and caught his shoe on a hidden stone buried in the mud. It ripped the nails out of his hoof and the shoe off his foot. As Jack struggled to regain his balance, he strained the hock. Jack was dead lame.
Charlie cursed a blue streak.
He changed out horses for one of the reserves and they rode south, advancing a few miles a day until they reached the junction of Amelia, Prince Edward, and Nottoway Counties.
--*--
Wednesday, April 5, 1865
April 5, 1865
Dearest Rebecca,
There is a special quality on the eve of battle. It is a breathless waiting, a stillness that, no matter how I try, I will never be able to describe. In many ways, it is like the stillness of the early morning before the sun rises, when false dawn lights the sky with a silvery gray and one does not know what the day will truly bring.
Richmond has fallen. The Confederate army is in retreat. I pray the battle will be easy, that these men will see reason and know it is time to concede gracefully. I fear they will fight like cornered dogs.
I know no more than this. I love you with all my heart and soul. I love our children, though I have only met one of them. I long to be home, with you and them, in a world where war is no more. I pray to God above that I may be allowed to realize my dream, that my men and I will survive these last, terrible days.
I love you.
Charlie
--*--
Thursday, April 6, 1865
With the fall of Richmond, Lee’s forces had no choice. They had to run –– south and west, towards Roanoke and then south into North Carolina –– or they had to surrender. Grant was behind them, coming from Richmond and Petersburg. Sheridan was there on the west ready to meet whatever Lee could throw against them and determined to close the path of escape.
They had spent much of the night in conference with Sheridan and his forward scouts. The land ahead was rolling hills, cut by Sailor’s Creek, a small waterway that fed into the Appomattox River. There were marshy bottomlands to the southwest. Merritt’s light infantry, supported by Charlie’s cavalry, were assigned to stop any attempt to slip through the shallow, marshy section of the creek. It would be hard going.
The men took up their positions at dawn. Waiting was one of those things all soldiers learned how to do. Charlie stayed on the heights above the expected battleground, waiting and watching. That was all they could do. Charlie saw some movement along the front line. Dewees was letting the men of Company D move forward too soon.
"Duncan! Get down there and get Dewees and his men back in line. Now!"
Duncan took off at a hard gallop.
"Richard, did we not tell that young idiot that holding the line was all important?"
"Yes, we did. What does the fool think he is doing?"
"Hell, if I knew I would do something about it. Byrnes warned me we would have trouble with him being over-eager. You want to go down there and give him hell or shall I?"
"I suppose I could do it. I have not really yelled at anyone today."
"Then go do it. But get back in a hurry. You still have to manage coordination with the artillery and the scouts tell me Gordon’s cavalry is coming our way with a bunch of supply wagons. I will need you here when he arrives."
Richard tossed a crisp salute. "Yes, Sir."
Charlie watched as Richard rode down to Company D’s position. He could see his second standing in his stirrups, shouting at Dewees. The first man who broke formation without advance notification might find himself taking fire from the Union artillery behind them.
As Richard started back, Charlie could see a cloud of dust in the distance and hints of movement. Lee’s army was on its way. Lee had split his forces into three columns. They were about to face the southern column, which was comprised of one quarter of all of the remaining Southern forces in Virginia.
--*--
Gordon’s cavalry came on, desperate. They were hungry; they were clothed in rags. They were short of ammunition. The wagons bogged down in the marshy terrain. Gordon’s troops fought like devils. It was exactly what Charlie had expected –– and feared.
Dewees was a fool. He let his men go too soon and they took at least two rounds from Union artillery until he realized what both Charlie and Richard had told him. Follow the plan. That was the rule. Follow the plan.
Elizabeth, who normally was reasonably calm in battle, started cursing like a sailor when she realized she was treating wounds inflicted by their own forces.
Charlie pulled Swallow’s A Company and Braddock’s H Company from the reserve lines and sent them down to relieve Dewees. Andrews and M’Cabe, Companies C and E, were assigned to Merritt’s right flank. With controlled artillery support, and a sound infantry brigade at their core, the Union Army moved slowly in on the smaller Confederate force. It was a rout. Sheridan’s forces, a total of approximately eighteen thousand mixed infantry, cavalry, and heavy artillery, had faced some thirteen thousand five hundred of Lee’s remaining troops.
By the end of the day, Sheridan’s forces had captured seven thousand seven hundred men, most of whom had sustained some sort of injury. Eight confederate generals, including Robert E. Lee’s oldest son, George Washington Custis Lee, were captured. There were a total of about two thousand injuries in the Union forces and less than two hundred deaths. The Southern force had been devastated. Later, Richard was told that Lee, seeing men fleeing along the roads, asked, "My God, has the army dissolved?"