A
Leaf from my Log-Book
By
From: Southern Historical Society Papers,
Vol. XII, Richmond, Va., January to December, 1884.
Pages 416-421.
The gray dawn of a frosty morning in February, 1865, broken upon a
party of about one hundred officers and men in the uniform of the
Confederate States navy, assembled at Drewry's Bluff, on the banks of the
James river, Virginia. The morning was very cold, and as the men were
formed in two ranks and their arms and equipments carefully inspected by
the officers, it was easy to se that stern work and great danger was to be
encountered, by the unusual attention given to this inspection, and the
expression, half serious, half reckless, that characterized the men who,
in those stirring times, were familiar with dangers and hardships. After
some little delay in arranging preliminaries, the little command moved off
in the direction of Petersburg, then invested by Grant's army. The
situation at this time was gloomy and the hearts of the bravest had begun
to fail. The enemy was pushing hard, and our brave army, reduced by
sickness, death and disability, had diminished to a mere handful, to face
the overwhelming numbers of our well-fed, well-clothed and well-equipped
foe. Every effort had been made to compel the enemy to fall back, but
without success. Grant's army then held the lower James river, his base of
supplies being at City Point, and the heavy Federal monitors lay at anchor
there, protected from an attack of our navy by obstructions in the river.
Our iron-clads and gunboats inactive at Chaffin's Bluff; officers and men
restless under their forced inactivity and eager to try their strength
against the enemy's fleet and share the laurels being won by our more
fortunate brother officers who were upon blue water.
If we could gain possession of the river and hold if Grant would be
compelled to fall backs, as City Point would no longer furnish him a base
and the James river an avenue of supplies, and to effect this object, the
possession of the river at City Point, it was decided to make an effort to
blow up the Federal iron-clads, clear a passage for our fleet and force
the abandonment of City Point, or compel Grant to fall back or bring his
supplied from Norfolk. To drive him back would have necessitated an army
equal in numbers to his own and a fearful cost of life.
Under these conditions Lieutenant C. W. Read, of the navy,
organized an expedition whose object was to carry boats, fitted with
torpedoes, on wheels, and, turning Grant's left, strike boldly across the
country in his rear, cross the Blackwater, and launch our boats in the
James above their anchorage at Hampton Roads, capture some passing tugs,
fix our torpedoes on them, ascend the river and strike the largest
monitors at City Point. The larger monitors once destroyed, our fleet
could easily scattered the wooden gunboats, and the James
river would be open from Richmond to Hampton Roads. The expedition
was a hazardous one from its incipiency, the enemy having declared their
determination to show no mercy to prisoners taken on torpedo service. We
had to operate in rear of Grant's army-a handful of men, with an army of
one hundred and fifty thousand between us and our friends-and every man on
the expedition fully understood and appreciated the danger we ran. If we
were successful in reaching the James river our dangers would have but
just commenced, as we would have to board and capture an unsuspicious
craft, of whose fitness for our purpose we would have to judge from
appearances at long range; the capture might attract attention of the
men-of-war and make us the captured instead of the captors, or, our plan
discovered, we would have a long way to retreat in order to reach a place
of safety. Added to these difficulties, the weather was very cold, the
roads rough, and the path before us a terra incognita. Surely to face such
dangers and hardships, even though success did not crown our effort,
deserves a mention in history, and I am not aware that anything had been
written in relation to this expedition, which, if successful, would have
crowned each one of those engaged in it with laurels as undying as those
that deck the brows of the heroes of Thermopyle. I suppose that the
modesty of the principal actor, the brave Read, forbade his publishing an
account of the expedition which was, through the treachery of one of our
most trusted men, a failure; but reverses and failures, as well as grand
successes, should be chronicled, as evidences of the spirit that animated
our men and the willingness to embark in almost hopeless undertakings,
literal forlorn hopes, without the stimulus or the excitement of battle or
the probabilities of a name on the roll of honor.
The
expedition was composed of Lieutenant C. W. Read, Lieutenant W. H. Wall,
Master
W. F. Shippey, Passed Midshipmen Scott and Williamson, and
Lieutenant of Marine Crenshaw, a Surgeon from the fleet (whose name, I
regret to say, I cannot now recall) and about ninety seamen and marines.
The officers and sailors were armed with skip's cutlasses and revolvers,
and the marines with rifles. The boats were placed in chocks on four wagon
wheels, torpedoes, poles and gear inside, and each drawn by four mules.
One, Lewis, a volunteer officer of the Navy, had been sent ahead to
reconnoitre, and was to meet us at the ford of the Blackwater and pilot,
us to the James. How he fulfilled his engagements will be shown in the
sequel. This man Lewis was mate of an American ship lying in Norfolk
harbor at the time of the secession of Virginia, and had left his ship to
join the Confederates, had served faithfully in the army, been wounded at
Bull Run, transferred to the Navy and commissioned an Acting Lieutenant,
and was considered worthy of trust and confidence.
Our
first day's march brought us to General Anderson's headquarters, the right
of our army, where were encamped that night, and, breaking camp early the
following morning, we struck out from our picket line to gain the old
Jerusalem plank road-our party being reinforced by two young English
gentlemen, guests of General Anderson, who thought they would "like
to see the fun." A short distance outside of our lines we had our
first alarm, running up nearly face to face with a column of the enemy
coming up to attack our troops on the
right. By a "change of base" we managed to dodge them,
and they passed on, paying little heed to us, who they doubtless supposed
to be a picket post, and soon the firing in our rear told us that the
"ball had opened." We passed on our way, well assured that the
fight going on behind would serve to attract attention from us and favor
our march. We knew not what proportions the battle would assume or what
would be the result, nor felt we much uneasiness, for was not one, Lee,
and his brave boys in gray there to attend to them? Of our two volunteers,
I never heard more, but suppose they found their way back to General
Anderson's headquarters, as they were mounted and had only to follow the
retreating cavalry pickets.
We were now fairly embarked on our expedition, pushing our way
through the enemy's country and separated from our friends by his army.
Our march was in three detachments, the advance under Read and
Ward, about one hundred yards ahead of the wagon train; Crenshaw, with his
marines, about the same distance in rear of them, and Shippey commanding
the centre, with the wagon train. Fortunately we met no stragglers or
foraging parties of the enemy, and were not disturbed, and after a good
day's march, we bivouacked in good spirits and very tired. The following
day's march was without incident worthy of mention, an occasional false
alarm or seeking the cover of woods of screen us from chanc observers.
Indeed, we were out of the line of travel, the Federals did all their
business at City Point, and there was little more to attract anyone to
this part of the country than to the Siberian deserts.
During the night the weather turned very cold, and our poor, tired
fellows lay close to the fires. I have to laugh yet to think of poor
Williamson's sky-rocket feat. He was lying close to a fire, and as I
passed about midnight I saw that his coat-tail was on fire, and called him
somewhat hurriedly from a sound sleep. He started up and rushed wildly
through the woods, the fiery tail streaming out behind, and for awhile all
efforts to stop him were futile, but we finally succeeded in capturing
him, extinguishing the fire with the loss of one skirt of his coat. He
afterwards cut off the other skirt and made it more uniform.
The following morning we took up our march in the face of a storm
of sleet, and we had to stop after a few hours, the sleep being so
blinding that our mules could not make headway, besides the road being
frozen and slippery. We took shelter in an old deserted farm-house only a
few miles from our rendezvous on the Blackwater, once, doubtless, the
happy home of some Southern family, now changed into the rude scenes of a
soldiers' bivouac.
While resting and "thawing out" here by the warmth of
bright fires in big fireplaces, impatiently awaiting the breaking up of
the storm and anxious to continue our journey, a young man in gray uniform
came in and informed us that our plan had been betrayed and that Lewis was
at the ford to meet us, accordingly to promise, but accompanied by a
regiment of Federals lying in ambuscade and awaiting our arrival, when
they were to give us a warm reception. Had it not been for the storm and
our having to take shelter we would have marched into the net spread for
us, and most likely all have been killed, or suffered such other worse
punishment as a court-martial should inflict.
This young man had been a prisoner of war at Fort Monroe, and from
his window heard the conversation between Lewis and the Yankee officer, in
which the former betrayed us, and the plan to capture the whole party, and
having perfected his plans of escape, resolved to put them in execution
that night, and, if possible, frustrate his designs by giving us
information of his treachery.
After a hurried council of war it was decided that we should go
back about a mile and find a hiding place in the woods, efface or tracks,
and remain concealed, while Lieutenant Read should make a reconnaissance
to satisfy himself that things were as bad as had been reported, and if
indeed we would have to return to Richmond without accomplishing our
object. Accordingly we hitched up and filed out into the road and took it
back, and when we thought we had gone a safe distance turned into the
woods and camped-Read taking leave of us, disguised, and saying he would
rejoin us the next day, when if he did not by sunset we were to conclude
he was captured and make our way back to Richmond. The night passed
drearily away, the weather being very cold and we afraid to make fires for
us, as we had no doubt they would be as soon as they discovered we were
not going into their trap, and the following day though but a short winter
one, seemed endless, so great was our anxiety for our leader, who had
thrust his head into the lion's jaws. At length, about 4 P. M., Read made
his appearance in camp, cool and collected as ever, and told us that what
we had heard was true, and gave orders to hitch up, form line, and
retreat. The enemy's cavalry was already scouring the country in search us
and every road of retread was guarded. We marched by night, avoiding
main roads, and during the following day halted and concealed
ourselves in the woods.
Headed off at one turn, we took another and pursued our way
resolved to sell our lives dearly, should the enemy fall upon us. Every
path now seemed guarded, and our retreat apparently cut off, when an old
gentleman in citizens clothes and a "stove-pipe," hat on, who
had joined us as guide, determined to take us through the water of the
Appomattox, and thus "take roundings" on them. There was a
horse-shoe bend in the river, which, by fording, we could pass through
between their pickets and reach our picket-lines This was decided upon,
and our guide lead off and marched us to the ford. It was not a pleasant
prospect, that of taking water with the thermometer hanging around
freezing point, but it was better than falling in the hands of Yankees, so
of the two evils we chose the least. My teeth chatter yet to think of that
cold wade through water waist deep, covered with a thin coat of ice, but
we passed it successfully, wagons, and all, and then double-quicked to
keep from freezing; our clothes freezing stiff on us as we came out of the
water.
We had now the inside track of our pursuers, and leaving them
waiting for us to march up one of the many roads they had so well guarded,
made our way back towards our lines, which we reached safely without loss
of a man, wagon or mule.
The results accomplished by this expedition were nothing, but I
have thought it worthy of a place in history, because of the effort.
Of the hardships of such a trip only those who have experienced
them can judge, and I will not even attempt to paint those we encountered.
Our flag waved in the James river two months after the events I have
endeavored to describe, but of the hundred and one men who composed this
expedition, fully seventy-five were in the Naval Hospital, in Richmond,
suffering from the effects of their Winter march, on the sad day on which
we turned our backs upon that city.