“I can see horrors insurmountable through the summer months.”
Lieutenant Colonel George Shepard led the regiment as it marched along the Orange Plank Road, his Tennesseans part of a long column moving toward an imminent collision with the Union army. Shepard, along with the rest of the unit commanders in what now was known as Walker’s brigade, knew it was again time for battle. Shepard was worried; the Yankees had a new general, this fellow who seemed different from all the others Lincoln chose in the past. This new commander, Grant, had changed the Union army. Many veteran officers believed this coming meeting with Grant’s bluecoats could not come out well. One such officer wrote, “I dread the approaching campaign. I can see horrors insurmountable through the summer months.”1
Harry Heth’s division marched all day on May 4, 1864, covering 12 miles before ending up near Mine Run.2 The next morning, the men in gray moved out beneath skies choked by a low hanging fog. General Heth’s dictates placed Walker’s brigade third in line, behind Kirkland’s and Cooke’s North Carolinians. Trailing behind Walker’s men, Heth’s final brigade followed: the Mississippians of Davis. Farther behind them, another division followed, that of Maj. Gen. Cadmus Wilcox.3 These two divisions totaled around 14,000, an impressive amount, but only a fraction of what the bluecoats possessed.
George Shepard’s Tennesseans numbered fewer than 200, the smallest they had ever been at the commencement of a summer’s campaigning. The regiment had seven captains with the most senior being Archie Norris, who acted as Shepard’s second-in-command. The other six led their companies, and most of these formations numbered a dozen rifles or so. And to make matters worse, each of the companies had been weakened by division orders to maintain a division sharpshooter unit (commanded by Lt. Ferguson Harris of Co. H), and a brigade skirmish force (led by Lt. Burgess Wilmouth of Co. A).4
The Tennesseans’ march was interrupted when word flashed down the column, “The Federals are ahead.” Shepard leaned forward, as did each veteran in his formation, because that “message always made hearts beat faster.”5 Then, the ugly, rumbling noises of combat floated down upon them, seeping in from the north. Their column hurried forward, the men no longer chilled by the early morning’s dew.
At 1:00 P.M. the Confederate line stumbled to a halt and the leading units deployed skirmishers. The popping of muskets quickly informed everyone the Tennesseans the Yankees had been located. General Heth gave orders to position the division in battle formation. Davis’ brigade shifted off the Orange Plank Road, sliding to the north; Cooke’s men formed their battle line directly across the road, and Walker’s Confederates obliqued to the right and moved south of the highway. Kirkland’s brigade inched up behind Cooke’s fellows, the division’s reserve unit.
Lieutenant Colonel Shepard gave his Tennesseans permission to construct temporary rifle works and within an hour they had worthwhile defenses.6 One Confederate wrote, “Reaching a slight swell, [we] placed logs on top of the swell … as shields … from the Union fire.”7 George Shepard no longer had any qualms about his boys expending this extra effort, though it was possible orders would come to move away, making their exertions for naught. Shepard realized his survivors were different from the ones who filled the ranks a year ago. So many good men were absent. Now, the remaining Tennesseans possessed little inclination to stand unprotected when they had the opportunity to shelter themselves. Every surviving veteran was courageous, but each man understood what a Minié bullet could do. Shepard knew his Tennesseans would perform as required, but few had any proclivity for unnecessary risk. George Shepard appreciated the tenor of his men; they had remarkable mettle, but they would never again make the kind of assault the regiment had at Gettysburg. That type of fortitude had been ripped out of their hearts by Yankee lead.
Not far from the brooding Shepard, Captain Archie Norris conferred with Lt. Burgess (everyone called him “Byrd”) Wilmouth. Norris wanted Wilmouth to keep a vigilant watch on the woods in front of the 7th Tennessee’s defenses. Burgess, a 33-year-old from Alexandria, Tennessee, was older than most of the fellows. He had owned a blacksmith shop before the war, managed a small number of assistants, and understood the elements of leadership.8 Byrd Burgess had been the only Company A officer to survive Gettysburg. Then, once Gen. Walker noticed his abilities, Burgess was pulled from his responsibilities as Company A’s commander and assigned the duty of commanding the brigade’s skirmishers. Thus, this morning the ex-blacksmith led a collection of veterans from each of the brigade’s regiments.
Lieutenant Wilmouth motioned to his troops and they climbed over the defenses, deployed into a spread-out skirmish formation, and slipped forward, cautiously searching for the bluecoats. One Southerner noted, “Skirmishers were thrown out on a wide front. Soon the pop-pop of rifles announced they had found the Union skirmish line.”9 The rest of the regiment hunkered down behind the defenses and waited for whatever would happen.
Sergeant Billy Cato moved among the new soldiers making sure they were calm. These fellows had been conscripted in the early months of 1864 and Lt. Col. Shepard assigned most of them to Companies D and E. These new men were important, as they totaled thirty, making them a fifth of the entire regiment’s present strength, so it was critical they fit into the organization.10 These men, none having seen combat before, shifted about nervously, poking their heads up and down, uneasy about the coming moments. Since these men were untested, Sgt. Cato wondered how they would perform once the lead started to fly. These men were older than the original volunteers; many were married and with farms or small businesses in the eastern Tennessee area. Cato figured these fellows would not make a frontal assault, but he believed they would do ok as long as protected by defenses.
Billy Cato watched one of the new fellows, a conscript who seemed to have adjusted to the martial world—Private Sterling Rhea. Sergeant Cato had spoken with Rhea and came away impressed. Sterling Rhea was 35 years old, married and the father of five children. He hailed from Brier Creek, Tennessee, where he owned a blacksmith shop. Rhea had several assistants working for him, including a slave. Sterling Rhea was not a happy conscript, but had vowed to those who could hear that he would serve dutifully.11 Sergeant Billy Cato hoped this second batch of new replacements were more like Pvt. Rhea than last fall’s bunch of misfits.
Suddenly a flurry of rifle fire erupted in front of the defensive line and within moments Lt. Wilmouth and his skirmishers came scampering back. The Tennesseans grabbed their weapons and took position behind the works, knowing Wilmouth’s skirmishers were fleeing an advancing body of Federals. Soon, a wall of bluecoats emerged from the trees and, hollering loudly, attacked. General Heth reported, “My line was assailed at 3:30 by a strong line of battle … the enemy came within 90 yards of my line.”12 The Tennesseans opened fire on the closely packed ranks and slaughtered the advancing Yanks. The attackers did not persist long before turning tail and bolting back to the safety of the trees. However, even before the Confederates’ musket barrels had time to cool, another Union formation appeared and marched forward across the body-littered field. General Heth wrote, “The enemy attacked me again, and met with the same fate.”13
The Federals, Northerners from Brig. Gen. George Getty’s division continued to push toward the Confederates, attacking with wave after wave of soldiers; Gen. Heth claimed they made seven separate assaults. But the end result remained the same; the vastly outnumbered Southerners did not budge. They stopped each attack with a sheet of fire. Finally, the Union commander, having squandered his entire division, called off the slaughter and the survivors slunk back into the woods, leaving behind them a field covered with hundreds of casualties.
George Shepard’s Tennesseans had weathered each successive attack, protected by their defensive works, and suffered only a few minor injuries, at most, only a handful. The Tennesseans looked out beyond their earthworks and surveyed the destruction. One Southerner simply wrote, “[Our] defense was stern.”14
Before the Tennesseans could relax, General Henry Heth decided to go onto the offensive. Bolstered by the arrival of men from Wilcox’s division, Heth gave the command to counterattack. The Tennesseans, as well as the rest of the men in Walker’s brigade, climbed out of their works, hurried across the body-covered field and slammed into the Union division’s scattered remnants. The Yanks fled deeper into the thick underbrush. Heth ordered his men to pursue, however as the Confederates pushed farther into this almost-impenetrable wilderness they ran into four new Union brigades, veterans from Maj. Gen. David Birney’s division and Brig. Gen. Gershom Mott’s division. General Heth recorded, “This proved to be a mistake … I should have left well enough alone.”15
Federal volleys punched through the underbrush, battering trees, fallen logs, and human flesh. Tennesseans began to fall. Pvt. John Hale (Co. B) was killed, Sgt. Thomas Hearn (Co. D) went down wounded, and Cpt. William Graves (Co. G) was struck in the leg. Sergeant John Cheek (Co. A) was killed, Cpt. William Tate (Co. H) fell, hurt by a Minié bullet, and Sgt. John Jennings (Co. I) was wounded.16 The Tennesseans dropped to the ground and the next series of volleys swept over their heads. The regiment’s leaders spurred their riflemen to return fire, but more Yankee bullets struck Shepard’s men, and sadly, it was the experienced veterans—men who had survived Gettysburg—who were being struck; Sgt. Alphonso Emerique (Co. A) was killed, 1st Lt. Newborn Jennings (Co. G) was seriously injured, and Sgt. Jesse Cage (Co. E) was wounded.17
George Shepard’s regiment suffered so many losses among its NCOs and line officers the formation was rendered nearly helpless. Then, another force of Yanks pushed through the thick foliage and smacked into the 7th Tennessee’s flank, crushing the regiment. The survivors fell back, leaving behind nearly a dozen men to be captured.18
But the 7th Tennessee was not the only regiment in trouble; the entire brigade had crumbled, and men from every regiment streamed toward the rear, fleeing the Yankees pushing toward them. A Confederate noted, “The enemy … turned on [us] and drove [us] back to the open fields of the Tapp farm.”19 Here, the remnants of Heth’s and Wilcox’s divisions scratched together a defensive line and held off the Northerners until darkness halted the fighting.
The exhausted and battered Confederates were completely disorganized; companies were scattered, regiments fragmented, and the men of different brigades so intermingled neither General Heth nor Wilcox controlled their men. Both generals wrestled with this chaos, but in the darkness and almost impassable underbrush, little could be done to sort out the confusion. That night a worried General Heth recorded, “A skirmish line could drive both my division and Wilcox’s.”20
For Lt. Col. George Shepard, the afternoon had been nightmarish. His remaining officers and NCOs rounded up as many Tennesseans as they could find and spread them out in a defensive line. The Confederates could not see the bluecoats, as the night was dark and the underbrush frighteningly thick, but the sounds of shovels and axes told them the Yankees were hardly more than fifty yards away. Lieutenant Wilmouth inched forward a skirmish line and these vigilant pickets lay down and stared into the darkness, relying on their ears more than eyes.21 There would be little sleep for the weary soldiers. Corporal J. P. Bashaw (Co. I) recorded, “That night we rested on our arms.”22
George Shepard now directed fewer than 150 men. Even more important, this afternoon’s fight thrashed his leadership; half of the regiment’s companies possessed sergeants as their senior officers. Shepard’s riflemen were nearly out of ammunition, had little food, scant water, and no one to turn to for help—Cpt. Fayette Walsh and the regiment’s supply wagons were lost in a traffic jam miles away. So, all night long, the lieutenant colonel and his second, Cpt. Archie Norris, moved among their fatigued comrades, apportioning out rounds, and preparing for tomorrow, because they both knew, “We shall certainly be attacked early in the morning.”23
Much later that night a courier arrived from Gen. Walker ordering Shepard to pull his regiment back to an area where the brigade was being rebuilt. Shepard and Norris woke their men and the tired force followed a guide away from the Union positions and into a thick scrum of vegetation where remnants of Walker’s regiments congregated. Shepard’s exhausted men lay down with their rifles nearby and quickly fell asleep.
At 5:00 A.M., on May 6, 1864, a single cannon boomed. Then, the Tennesseans heard the sounds of the Union army crashing toward them through the dense foliage. Shepard’s tired riflemen gripped their muskets and waited, knowing Confederate troops were between them and the bluecoats. The sounds of gunfire increased as Maj. Gen. Winfield Hancock’s five divisions struck the Confederates.24 There was nothing the Southerners could do to resist this massive tide of Northern steel. General Heth gave the order to “fight in retreat” but the Federal pressure broke the gray line and the Confederates fled in disarray.25 Corporal Bashaw noted, “They came with such a rush that … we were all in confusion … [and] stampeded.”26
George Shepard, seeing the panicked Confederates fleeing toward them, realized “the crisis was instant and desperate.”27 He immediately ordered the 7th Tennessee to march toward the rear, and in doing so kept the regiment together. The Tennesseans moved back nearly a thousand yards before Shepard turned them around and reformed the line. Shepard’s small formation appeared like rock about which hundreds and hundreds of fleeing Confederates scurried past. J. P. Bashaw (Co. I) wrote, “[They] were all in confusion and the officers were trying to rally the men but … they could not be rallied.”28
Fortunately, just as Heth’s and Wilcox’s divisions dissolved into chaos, the leading division of Lt. Gen. James Longstreet’s First Corps arrived, men from Texas. They pushed through the tide of broken regiments and headed straight for the blue lines. The Texans were angry at Heth’s and Wilcox’s rattled men and yelled out, “Do you belong to Lee’s Army? … You don’t look like the men we left here … you’re worse than Bragg’s men.”29 The Texans, though, saw the 7th Tennessee regiment standing solidly and one Lone Star State officer singled them out, recording, “The Tennesseans came out of the Wilderness in good order.”30
Longstreet’s brigades charged past the Tennesseans and crashed into the Federal divisions, stopping the Yanks’ assault. Meanwhile Brig. Gen. Walker struggled to reform his broken formation. By 10 A.M., Walker had reorganized his brigade, though many of his men were badly shaken. General Heth, understanding Walker’s brigade’s condition, ordered him to move his men to the north of the Plank Road and entrench.31 Walker’s Confederates immediately dug in and within a couple of hours fashioned powerful earthworks. Later, Shepard’s riflemen rested inside their fortifications and listened to the dreadful racket of the close-by conflict. The anxious soldiers ate their meager rations, restocked their cartridge boxes, and tended to cuts and bruises, while just a half mile away thousands of men, blue and gray, were locked in a death grip.
That evening the Tennesseans heard James Longstreet had been shot. The veterans moped about, knowing they had lost one of their best generals. They were shocked by the similarities between Longstreet’s and Jackson’s shootings—both generals had been struck down by friendly fire and both on nearly the same date—just a year apart. Rumors floated along the entrenched formations, some declaring Longstreet was dead, and while others contended he still lived. James Longstreet’s condition was serious; “A Minié bullet had entered near the throat and had crashed into his right shoulder.”32
The evening’s nightmare continued; the battle’s intensities had been so scorching forest fires erupted in many places. One Southerner wrote, “The reflection of the fire gave the clouds a sickening yellow cast,” and even more upsetting, “the nearer men ventured to the fire, the louder were the frantic cries of the wounded.”33 The Tennesseans huddled within their entrenchments, alarmed by the flames spreading near their position. Mercifully, May 7, 1864, dawned quietly and Lt. Wilmouth’s pickets reported no activity to their front; news which gladdened the red-eyed and fatigued Tennesseans. The landscape before them had been transformed by the last two days’ fighting. Large swaths of blackened forest smoldered and no attempts had been made by either side to bury the dead or to collect the weapons and materials of war strewn about. One Southerner proclaimed it was “a hideous temple of Mars.”34
The hours trickled by with no renewed fighting, though the danger did not diminish. Snipers popped away, forcing the Tennesseans to hide within their entrenchments. No one wanted to die, and to be shot needlessly was beyond comprehension. So, Shepard’s boys huddled quietly, and tried to catch some sleep when not on duty. That afternoon one rumor floating about proved to be accurate; the Yankees were moving away. The Tennesseans hoped the Federals had taken enough of a beating and were retreating, but soon new stories filtered down the line—the Yanks were not retreating; instead they were shifting farther to the south, and the fighting was not over.
May 8, 1864, arrived peacefully. Wilmouth’s pickets scoured the front before them and announced it vacated. Captain Walsh brought up rations, and many Tennesseans had slipped out over the battlefield to garner coffee and other amenities from Federal haversacks and packs. The day went by quickly. One veteran wrote, “[We] remained behind [our] breastworks and did not leave.”35 Later that evening George Shepard and Archie Norris attended an officers’ call and learned the division would soon be marching southward; General Lee wanted to get his riflemen to another location before Grant arrived. Not long before midnight, the brigade got its orders and the Tennesseans filed out of their entrenchments and marched southward.
Shepard’s men stumbled through the dark until reaching a little village called Shady Grove, where they bivouacked. Early the next morning, May 9, 1864, they resumed their trek and reached Spotsylvania Court House. The temperature soared, punishing everyone, but no fighting occurred. Heat may have been tough to endure, but it was much better than the fire from Federal weapons. The sweating Tennesseans grabbed their shovels and dug in, spending the hot afternoon building breastworks. At first there were no bluecoats opposite their positions, but later a Union brigade arrived and quickly put up its own barricades. The two forces glared at each other across an area of several hundred yards, but the soldiers on both sides refrained from shooting. A couple more hours passed quietly, and Gen. Heth reported, “My division lay in front of Spotsylvania Court House and held the extreme right of our army.”36
Around 3:00 P.M., the Union army stirred, but not where the Tennesseans held their portion of the line. Instead, the Federals, using three divisions in Hancock’s II Corps, moved against the Confederates’ far left flank, three miles away. General Lee, having only a brigade in that area to hold off nearly an entire corps, ordered Heth to get his division to that location. General Walker’s men hustled to cover the southern left flank and reformed with Heth’s other brigades near a collection of houses called Waite’s Shop. The bluecoats backed off and quickly dug in. Heth ordered his division to move to a position near Glad Run, and the Tennesseans scratched out a defensive line. Corporal Bashaw (Co. I) wrote, “Our boys were lying down behind some little protection that they made with their bayonets by digging up the earth and piling it with their hands.”37
The next morning, May 10, 1864, General Heth gave the order for his veterans to move against the Northerners. Confederate skirmishers crept forward and easily pushed the Yanks for a quarter mile, back to Waite’s Shop. The Union troops resisted but without much determination. It almost seemed as if they had no stomach for a fight, so Heth ordered an all-out assault.
General Hancock’s veterans stopped retreating and a fierce fight erupted in the open fields north of the Shady Grove Church Road. One Confederate wrote, “[We] hit them at 2:30 P.M.… The Union Brigade repulsed two attacks before … [we] enveloped the Union soldiers, pushing them across the [Po] river.”38 Fortunately for Shepard’s boys they served as part of a reserve formation, but even so, two more Tennesseans were lost; Pvt. William Rabeck (Co. D) and Pvt. John Nettles (Co. K).39 Brigadier General Henry Walker also went down, his foot so shattered by a bullet the injury required the amputation of his foot and part of the leg. The shooting tapered off and the Confederates and Federals separated from each other. Then, new orders came from General Lee, directing Heth to get his brigades back to the entrenchments on the army’s far right flank. The worn out Tennesseans gathered up their equipment and trudged the four miles back to where they had been just 24 hours ago.
General Heth met with the brigade’s senior officers and appointed Colonel Robert Mayo as the new commander. Mayo, a 27-year-old Virginian, had attended William and Mary and the Virginia Military Academy. Following his graduation Mayo taught mathematics at a school in New York. When the war began he joined the 47th Virginia as its major. Robert Mayo assumed command of the regiment in 1862 and led his Virginians from then on. He was a hard drinker and fearless and had been wounded at the Second Battle of Manassas. Thus, when he accepted the congratulations from his fellow officers, they knew their new leader was a war-tested veteran. Mayo immediately let his commanders know he would divide the brigade into two wings, one composed of the Virginians and the second made up of the boys from Archer’s brigade.
That evening the veteran Tennesseans set about improving their entrenchments. Their portion of the line protruded out about fifty yards onto a spur of land, forcing the construction of earthworks running at right angles to the main trench line. Shepard’s boys fortified this position, making allowances for this difficult slant, and the fact there was only about 50 yards of open ground between them and a stand of pine trees. Lieutenant Jack Moore, who now commanded Company B, wrote, “Our line … jutted out … and so abrupt was the apex that traverses had to be constructed to protect our men from enfilading fire.”40
The next morning, May 11, 1864, began quietly and the Tennesseans took advantage of this lull by improving their entrenchment. Then Lt. Col. Shepard and Cpt. Norris allowed their riflemen to rest and wash. Lieutenant Moore noted, “After ten days of constant service … not a single soldier … had time to take his shoes off or wash his face … [nor] to take time to remove or change his scanty clothes.”41 The Tennesseans napped, grateful the Yankees before them were quiet. Jack Moore recorded, “A deep stillness pervaded, broken only by the incessant and monotonous chirping of the summer beetle.”42
A shower interrupted the Tennesseans’ slumbers, which was followed by a drizzle that increased into a steady rain. The Confederates huddled beneath their ponchos and shelter-halves as the sounds of fighting erupted north of them. The Tennesseans looked to their weapons, wondering when they would be pulled from their works and thrown into the fray. The call to relocate did not come and the Tennesseans battled only the weather. One Confederate noted, “A torrential rain soaked the men and their ammunition.”43
George Shepard sent Lt. Wilmouth and his skirmishers out in front of their line and they crouched in shallow rifle pits all night, soaked and cold. Then, in the dark, early hours of May 12, 1864, Wilmouth sent back reports of Yankees massing in the woods in front of them. At 4:30 A.M., flashes from muskets lit up the low-lying clouds as Federals rushed toward the Confederate positions, a half mile north of the Tennesseans. The first volleys were followed by a continuous rattle of rifle fire, a noise which would last without stopping for the next twenty hours—the attack upon the Mule Shoe had begun.
The Tennesseans waited for the call sending them into the “Bloody Angle,” as well as watching their own field of fire. Finally, as Lt. Jack Moore (Co. B) described, “an ominous sight was presented in the pines … flocks of small birds and owls … [flew into] the open space in our front, their flight rapid, low, and meaningless, save their efforts to flee.”44 Shepard’s riflemen hardly had time to digest the implications of this spooked flock of birds when Wilmouth’s skirmishers opened fire. Wilmouth’s pickets dueled with their Yankee counterparts for several hours. At 9:00 A.M., George Shepard could see the Federals forming in the woods. He called in his skirmishers. Lieutenant Byrd Wilmouth, once his riflemen were all safely within the entrenchments, jumped up onto the earthworks and strutted about. Ignoring the calls from his comrades to get down he hollered, “Get ready boys, there are three lines of coffee coming!”45 Union sharpshooters fired at the reckless officer and he quickly jumped down into the trenches.
Moments later the Federals attacked. General Heth wrote, “My breastworks [were] vigorously assailed by General Burnside.”46 Lieutenant Moore described the assault: “The enemy approached, marching in splendid order, in three lines of battle…. Undaunted they advanced … and received without wavering, volley after volley, but at length our well-directed fire told on their ranks … and they retreated to the cover of the pines.”47 Then, a second formation emerged from the woods and advanced. The Confederates poured a sheet of lead into these bluecoats and their ranks fell apart. Jack Moore (Co. B) wrote, “This ended the … two assaults…. Our loss was … small, that of the enemy terrible.”48 George Shepard identified one Tennessean killed, Pvt. Isaac Griffin (Co. I), and a small number wounded.49 General Heth reported, “Their assaults [were] repulsed with great loss … we counted 300 odd dead in front of our works.”50
Once this second thrust failed George Shepard noticed Robert E. Lee approach and stop within fifty yards of the Tennessee regiment’s position. Lee met with Generals Wilcox and Heth, and a collection of brigade commanders and with great animation pointed toward the fighting to the brigade’s north. Lee also faced in the direction of the pine woods from which the Federals had just attacked. Lee made sweeping motions and ordered, “Move your men … and attack the left flank of the enemy.”51
Colonel Mayo sent word for the brigade skirmishers and the division sharpshooters to advance. Lieutenants Ferguson Harris (Co. H) and Byrd Wilmouth (Co. A) immediately led their men out of the earthworks and onto the body-littered field. They advanced cautiously, in short leaps and bounds, and crossing the open field and pushing into the edge of the pine woods.
It was at this time that Lt. Ferguson Harris distinguished himself. Years later, Cpt. William Jones (18th VT) wrote, “It was my misfortune to be fearfully wounded … on that terrible 12th of May 1864, in a charge against a Tennessee brigade…. We were ordered to charge [and] … a terrible battle ensued. The Tennesseans refused to be driven from their position … we retired again to our position … [but] I was left wounded … the Confederate sharp-shooters … [were then] thrown to the front under [Lt. Ferguson Harris] … his line behaved splendidly under the galling fire that our brigade poured into them…. When the officer reached me I called out to him, ‘in God’s name give me some water.’ He dropped to his knees and raised my head with his left arm and put a canteen to my mouth. I had hardly finished the draught when a bullet … passed through my throat, and blood spurted from my mouth into his canteen…. He laid my head down gently, saying to himself, ‘Poor fellow! He has fought his last battle!’ I remember nothing else after he placed his own blanket under my head … I can say for him that he was the bravest, the coolest, and the [most] kind-hearted man I ever saw.”52
Lieutenants Ferguson Harris and Byrd Wilmouth and their units were supported by additional troops Colonel Mayo selected, including several companies of 7th Tennesseans. This force advanced into the woods and pushed at the retreating Northerners. Eventually they ran into fresh Yanks and a fierce fight erupted. The Federals attacked the Tennesseans, firing as they closed the range between the two forces, striking some of George Shepard’s boys. Private John Close (Co. A) was wounded, Cpl. Oliver Stroud (Co. F) was killed, and Sgt. William Young (Co. I) was injured.53
The battle raged beneath the tall pine trees, the soldiers soaked by the falling rain and blinded by the choking smoke. Private George Kittrell (Co. K) was killed, while Privates Frank Goodall (Co. B) and Sgt. John Clemens (Co. I) were wounded. The Yank formation slowly pushed the Tennesseans backward. Lieutenant Byrd Wilmouth went down, a Minié bullet crushing his thigh and severing his main artery. Though his men tried a tourniquet to staunch the bleeding, the 33-year-old Tennessean bled to death.54 Lieutenant Harris, now commanding the Confederates by himself, and realizing they could not hold back the Union onslaught, ordered a retreat. The Southerners scampered out of the pine woods and back to the entrenchments. The Union troops chased the Tennesseans only as far as the edge of the pine woods. Once the Confederates were safely within their breastworks the shooting tapered off to little more than an occasional sniper shot. Nightfall darkened the battlefield but did not stop the rain’s relentless assault. The wet and chilled Tennesseans wrapped their soaked blankets around themselves and tried to sleep, but for those remaining on duty, all throughout the night, they could hear the terrible racket of musketry coming from the Mule Shoe.
The rain finally quit and by sunrise on May 13, 1864, the battlefield was quiet. George Shepard and Archie Norris moved among the regiment, its strength barely more than an early-war company. The two tried to raise their men’s morale. The weary Tennesseans all agreed a day of sunshine and no fighting would certainly help, but Mother Nature did not approve. A grumbling Southerner recorded, “Heavy rain began on the morning of the 13th and lasted for [two] full days.”55
George Shepard sent out a thin screen of skirmishers and they hunched down, enduring the night’s discomfort. Corporal William Clendening (Co. E) wrote, “[The] firing ceased during the night, and a picket line was established across the field of carnage. The post assigned me was in the midst of the dead and dying … the groans of the wounded could be heard all along the line. I groped my way over the field in search of something to eat. I stumbled over what I supposed to be a log, but it proved to be a dead man whose haversack was well filled with bacon and hardtack. Availing myself of this treasure, it was immediately transferred to my shoulders, and in a short time my hunger was appeased.”56
The rain finally ceased and the soldiers had a chance to dry. On May 17, 1864, the sun burned with unusual heat, hastening the drying process. Corporal J. P. Bashaw (Co. I) noted, “The rain stopped…. Two other men and I … were detailed to go back to the wagon train about a mile back and cook up rations. Between getting the fire started, finding the meal, skillets, and water, we had quite a time … [cooking] our cornbread.”57 The next day the Confederate army again went into motion, though the Tennesseans remained, leaning against their earthworks and watching thousands of soldiers file past, all heading south.
The Tennesseans left their entrenchments on May 21, 1864, and marched eleven miles. The next day they covered fifteen more before camping two miles south of the North Anna River. From there they hiked along the Virginia Central railway tracks to Jericho Mills. The brigade caught up with the two armies, who now battled for possession of the North Anna River crossings. The Tennesseans raced to support General Wilcox’s division, but before they could reach the battlefield the fight between Wilcox’s men and General Warren’s V Corps ended.
That evening while George Shepard’s boys bivouacked along the railroad tracks he and Archie Norris were called to a brigade officer’s meeting. Shepard and Norris were surprised to find Gen. Harry Heth joining the Tennessee and Virginian officers crowding around their commander, Robert Mayo. Heth informed the officers he was replacing Mayo and elevating Birkett Fry to brigade command. General Heth was unhappy with Robert Mayo and still smarted from criticism he had received because of actions taken by some of his brigades during Pickett’s Charge. Heth also used Mayo’s early-war drinking conviction as a reason to reduce his responsibilities.58
George Shepard was familiar with Birkett Fry and greatly respected the gritty officer. Fry, though wounded and captured near the stone wall at Gettysburg, had been exchanged and returned to the Confederate Army. He now assumed command of the combined brigade, now numbering less than 800 muskets. Once Heth left the meeting, Fry gave instructions for the regiments to dig rifle pits and prepare for a Yankee attack. Later, a Tennessean noted, “The Tennessee brigade … built a fortified line [a half mile] from Oxford Mill.”59 The brigade remained along this line until May 27, 1864. The Tennesseans relished those days of quietness, though they were surprised by the Northern hostilities at night. One such nocturnal raid struck the Confederate picket posts and five Tennesseans were captured.60 When orders came for the brigade to march, George Shepard’s formation now totaled only 145.
The 7th Tennessee trekked eight miles on May 27, 1864, and eight more the next day. They reached a position along Totopotomoy Creek and immediately “commended digging entrenchments and fortifications.”61 Meanwhile, both Lee’s and Grant’s armies jockeyed into position, facing each other along a line extending nearly seven miles. Again, Lee’s men had arrived to the scene before Grant’s, and in the critical hours before the Union divisions took up positions the Southerners amplified their strength by digging breastworks. George Shepard and Archie Norris liked their regiment’s new position. Their Tennesseans had become expert at quickly turning an open field into a highly defensible position. The two officers agreed; it only took their men a few hours. They were becoming “kings with spades.”
On May 31, 1864, heavy Union attacks against Confederate positions about a mile to the left of their brigade forced Heth to send Birkett Fry and his Tennesseans and Virginians to assist Maj. Gen. John Breckinridge’s troops. Fry’s riflemen arrived, but by the time they pressed up behind the embattled Confederates the Union resolve had withered. Breckinridge, with Fry’s support, pushed the bluecoats back to their lines. Sadly, even as the Federals retreated, their rifle fire struck with accuracy; Cpl. Benjamin Curry (Co. G) was killed and Sgt. John Lanier (Co. F) was wounded in the right hand.62 Once the crisis ended Birkett Fry led his men back to their entrenchments. They arrived at sunrise, exhausted. However, after only a couple hours of sleep the tired men were awakened and ordered to march. Birkett Fry led his small force out of their works and to Hundley’s Corner, near the far left end of the Confederate line. That evening Union cavalry probed the brigade’s skirmish line, and Pvt. William Steed (Co. K) was severely injured.63
On June 2, 1864, two hours before sunset, orders came to advance. George Shepard and Archie Norris directed their small collection of veterans forward, part of a Confederate strike against Gen. Ambrose Burnsides’ bluecoats. The Southerners raced forward and surprised the Yanks as they ate their dinner. The shocked Federals scrambled to their weapons and fought back. Yankee lead took its toll among the Tennesseans; Pvt. William Lindsey (Co. K) and Pvt. James Smart (Co. K) were knocked down, wounded.64 The fighting lasting only a few minutes before Burnside’s men spilled out of their rifle pits and fled. One Confederate wrote triumphantly, “[We] swept over Burnside’s forces … and captured hundreds of prisoners.”65
By now the Confederate defensive line had become impenetrable. Lee’s engineers, his soldiers, and hired crews with slave gangs had constructed works one Southerner described as “a maze and labyrinth of works within works … [with] intricate, zig-zagged lines within lines [and] lines protecting flanks of lines [and] lines built to enfilade an opposing line.”66 The writer also noted, “Artillery [was] posted with converging fields of fire … and stakes were driven into the ground to aid gunners’ range estimates.”67 Any attempt by Grant to attack this formidable line could only result in a terrible slaughter. This fact emboldened the Confederates. They were confident no fighting would occur—Grant would not be that stupid.
The next morning, June 3, 1864, dawned with a thick ground fog, and the Union commanders facing the defenses occupied by the Tennesseans chose this opportunity to strike. Moving quickly, men from Brig. Gen. Robert Potter’s division rushed forward and attacked the Confederate’s forward rifle pits. George Shepard’s men occupied many of those rifle pits, and they were quickly overrun. Private Sion Peek (Co. I) was mortally wounded in the right breast, Cpt. John Sloan (Co. F) was shot through the thigh, Sgt. James Watkins (Co. D) was struck in the forehead, and Lt. John Lapsley (Co. B) was wounded in both legs.68 Then, a group of Northerners raced forward, silenced a battery of artillery, and succeeded in blowing up two caissons before a Southern counterattack drove them away. The men in Birkett Fry’s brigade did not know of the tremendous slaughter occurring several miles south of them. There, not far from the little community called Cold Harbor, Grant launched a massive force of nearly 20,000 soldiers against the heavily defended Confederate entrenchments. The brave Union troops were butchered, suffering over 7,000 casualties.
Later that afternoon, once most of the fighting tapered off, a force of Union cavalry advanced against Fry’s outposts, and in a brief but costly fight several Tennesseans were lost. Sergeant George Washington Huddleston’s (Co. G) left foot was mangled by a cavalryman’s carbine bullet, Pvt. Ira Royster (Co. B) was shot through both legs, and Pvt. William Munsley (Co. E) suffered a scalp wound.69 Moore (Co. B) wrote, “Lieut. [William] Baber [Co. C] was shot … while standing by my side, when a bullet passed through his shoulder and grazed my coat.”70 Thus, by the time the sun set that evening, the 7th Tennessee had lost another ten veterans, including Sgt. Huddleston, whose leg needed amputation. Unfortunately Huddleston’s leg became infected. He died a few days later.71
June 4, 1864’s sunrise came with the prospect of more Union attacks; but the men from the North had suffered enough. A Confederate wrote, “Nothing happened except some light skirmishing.”72 George Shepard now had only 130 boys from Wilson, Smith, Dekalb and Sumner counties remaining. His Tennesseans kept their heads down, and for the next week, as one noted, it was “seven days of stench and sharpshooting, thirst and heat.”73
On June 13, 1864, Shepard’s pickets reported the Union forces gone. The Tennessean sent out an exploratory force and they returned, confirming their pickets’ accounts—the Yankees had slipped away during the night. This news did not delight the Confederates, who now realized General Grant was not going to quit; they guessed the bluecoats had just shifted their forces farther south. Orders from General Heth verified what Shepard’s veterans surmised; they were to march southward. The Tennesseans filed out of their entrenchments and headed toward the James River.
On June 18, 1864, the 7th Tennessee crossed the James River on a pontoon bridge near Chafin’s farm and journeyed on to Petersburg. As the battle-weary Confederates trekked through the city one citizen observed: “But oh! So worn with travel and fighting, so dusty and ragged, their faces so thin and drawn by privation that we scarcely knew them.”74 The men were not allowed to stop in the city and soon found themselves a mile south, along the Boydton Plank Road. They immediately began digging trenches, not even taking time to eat. Once darkness set in a soldier recorded, “The men were tired and hungry.”75
Union troops approached the Southerners’ partially completed earthworks the next day and the popping of skirmishers forced a halt to the digging. Shepard’s men remained on the alert and did not continue working on their defenses until nightfall. Corporal J. P. Bashaw (Co. I) wrote, “The battle lines were [close] … and at night under the cover of darkness each side threw up breastworks.”76 The next morning, June 20, 1864, the Confederates prepared for the Union attack, but the Yanks did not venture out of their works. The two sides stared at each other, 750 yards apart. Bashaw recorded, “The breastworks were worked on each night until raised to a height above our heads and we fired through portholes.”77
On June 25, 1864, the brigade was ordered out of their works, back through Petersburg, across the Appomattox River and north of the city to a location where Swift Creek joined the Appomattox River. Here, the Confederates manned Fort Clinton, a post overlooking the Appomattox River. The tired Tennesseans quickly realized they had been assigned light duty and relished the next week rotating through details of picket duty and watching the river for enemy gunboats. Alas, just as Shepard’s boys were getting used to this easy routine orders came bringing them back to the trenches south of Petersburg.
On July 4, 1864, the brigade moved into rifle pits on the far right of the Confederate line, near the Weldon and Petersburg tracks.78 Here, the Tennesseans remained, digging entrenchments. Corporal J. P. Bashaw (Co. I) wrote, “The company was divided into thirds and one third of the men were at the portholes firing all the time, one third strengthening the fortifications, while the others were supposed to be asleep.”79 Their defenses were soon so strong any attempt to take their works would produce devastating losses, so the Federal troops settled in, satisfied to pin the Confederates to this position west of Petersburg. The Union forces then began artillery attacks using a new weapon, one the Tennesseans quickly grew to hate—mortars. Bashaw recorded, “We had pens built and covered with logs and dirt to protect us from mortar fire … when the mortar fire began we would get in the pens for protection.”80
Mortar shells rained down upon the Confederate works intermittently, forcing Shepard’s men to scurry to their bombproofs for protection. Though few soldiers were hurt, the stress of uncertainty began to take its toll. The mortar fire also destroyed parts of the walls, compelling the riflemen to rebuild the damaged portions. Union snipers then focused on these sections of wall. Corporal Bashaw noted, “We worked on the fortifications at night so that the Yankees could not see us, however, they kept firing all the time so as to hinder our work.”81 This work was dangerous business, and Bashaw described a close call: “The detail I was with was given shovels and told to go to work. We were placed out in front of the fortifications on the open ground. We went at it for dear life, while the bullets were flying. As I was working a bullet hit the dirt as I threw it out of the shovel.”82 Other Tennesseans were not so fortunate; Pvt. Germain Shoemaker (Co. B), a 20-year-old farm boy from Carthage, Tennessee, was struck and killed by a sniper on July 10, 1864.83
The summer sun bore down on the war-weary soldiers. Bashaw lamented, “The troops had to contend with the hot sunshine and the bite of the dog flies during the day and through the night, with mosquitoes and mortar fire…. It was almost impossible to get any sleep.”84 The Tennesseans went through the motions of manning the lines and keeping themselves out of danger but their growing exhaustion made them prone to accident and danger. General Heth began rotating his brigades in and out of the line, enabling the weary men an opportunity to get away from the front lines, clean up, eat a hot meal or two, and sleep through the night without interruption. Birkett Fry’s brigade alternated with William Kirkland’s North Carolinians. An appreciative Tennessean wrote, “No troops could endure the hardships on the front line duty but a week or so. [We] were given frequent periods of rest.”85
Birkett Fry’s brigade rotated in and out of the trenches throughout the month of July 1864. The brigade’s strength numbered around 700 men until the 2nd Maryland battalion was added, giving the formation another 150 rifles. The 2nd Maryland consisted of five consolidated companies and was commanded by Captain James Crane. The regiment came to the brigade possessing a tough reputation and was known for its resilient morale.86 These veterans were readily accepted by the Tennesseans and Virginians.
When it was Fry’s brigade’s turn to switch out with Kirkland’s boys, his soldiers moved away from the horrors of the trenches. A thankful veteran wrote, “[We] bivouacked in a little valley about one hundred yards wide, the hills on either side crowned with a few stately pines, and a bold stream coursing through the center.”87 This was a perfect location for battle-weary soldiers to rest.
On July 30, 1864, while the 7th Tennessee was away from the line, Grant tried a new tactic: exploding a mass of gunpowder beneath the Confederate lines. This gamble occurred several miles from the Tennesseans’ position. Birkett Fry ordered his soldiers to form up and rushed them toward the fight taking place around the crater, but by the time Fry’s men arrived they were not needed. Fry turned his men around and sent them back. Corporal Bashaw (Co. B) wrote, “We rushed back to the [Battle of the Crater] but got there too late for the fun.”88 Other Southerners saw nothing positive about the fight; instead, one wrote, “The explosion of a mine was a mean trick … [and] the use of Negro soldiers an infamy.”89
A few days later the Tennesseans returned to the lines for another week of “mortar fire, hot sun and dog flies in the daytime, and rebuilding breastworks at night.”90 Eventually, as the summer slowly passed, these afflictions were not all the Confederates had to worry about. Another concern grew among the entrenched Southerners—food—as their rations had become undependable and often paltry. One Confederate complained he was “without shelter from the weather, half-starved … [and] subjected to a steady fire from the enemy.”91 The homesick Tennesseans’ morale began to slip. They still manned the rifle ports when it was their turn, but fewer fellows volunteered for picket duty, and almost none wanted to be out when the mortar shells dropped down into the trenches. A soldier noted, “The wane in morale [increased] … there was no great battle any day but a small battle [to stay alive] every day.”92
On August 13, 1864, Brig. Gen. James Archer resumed command of the brigade. The tenacious Archer had returned to the Army of Northern Virginia, eager to fight, though still in poor health. Archer had convinced the Confederate high command he was able, and Robert E. Lee, desperate for experienced senior leadership, returned him to command of his old brigade. Birkett Fry, now relieved of brigade command, and because he possessed the rank of brigadier general, could not go back to his old regiment. Instead, General Fry was dispatched to oversee operations in a South Carolina and Georgia district.93 Then, as the Tennesseans despondently bid Birkett Fry good-bye, James Archer ordered the brigade back to the trenches.
Days later, as the tired Southerners moved back to their recovery camp, they were “so drenched with rain that the fields were well-night impassable.”94 Then, even before the wet troops could start their much-needed rest, the heavy sounds of artillery floated toward them, followed by frantic orders to march. General Archer hustled his brigade into formation and his men joined the boys commanded by Brig. Gen. Joseph Davis, and they raced south to a point near the Vaughan Road, where it intersected with the Weldon and Petersburg Railroad tracks. They formed up, Davis’s brigade to the west of the tracks, and Archer’s unit just east. Then they advanced.
Lieutenant Colonel George Shepard’s 140 veterans moved forward cautiously, passing through a stand of woods before coming out onto an open pasture. A rifleman wrote, “As we emerged from the woods the view that presented itself was an open space, nearly level, about half a mile wide, with a forest on the southern side.”95 The Tennesseans could see a Yank formation forming a battle line amid a belt of distant trees. The command was given and the stubborn Southerners rushed across the field, hollering the rebel yell.
The Confederates got about halfway across the field before the bluecoats opened fire. Private James Patton (Co. H) went down, struck by a Minié bullet. Sergeant John Powell’s (Co. K) left wrist was broken, and Pvt. William Barner (Co. D) also was injured.96 The Tennesseans closed upon the Federals, firing as they moved. One Confederate recalled, “Onward we moved, our line being bent like a bow.”97 Parts of the Union line collapsed, while other Yank companies held firm. These stubborn formations continued to pour lethal fire into the Confederates. Private Lafayette Parvine (Co. B) went down, his left thigh shattered. Parvine had been a regimental teamster for most of the war and had just recently been returned to the ranks when Shepard and Norris tried to refill the organization with more combat troops. He was carried back to Surgeon James Fite, who was forced to amputate his leg. Lafayette Parvine’s stump did not heal well and infection set in. The 25-year-old Tennessean died in late September 1864.98
The Tennesseans climbed over a fence and pushed closer. The remnants of the Yank line dissolved and the bluecoats fled. A rifleman noted, “As we entered the woods … we drove the enemy back easily.”99 George Shepard and Archie Norris collected their veterans and reformed the regiment. They continued this advance for several hundred yards through the woods. The Confederates halted at the woodlot’s edge as another force of Federals appeared. The Tennesseans held a strong position amid the trees, and as the Union line approached, the Tennesseans poured a devastating fire into them. The Northerners were staggered by the Confederate fire and withdrew. One Southerner wrote, “[We] … formed [our] line at the edge of the woods and fought off an attack.”100 Another wrote, “The enemy attempted to charge us, but a few well-directed volleys drove them back.”101
Another Yank unit formed a battle line but did not move forward. The two forces stared at each other. Darkness settled the conflict; Gen. Archer pulled the brigade back, and the tired soldiers quickly dug rifle pits. An exhausted rifleman wrote, “The night was dark and damp. We kindled our fires, roasted our corn, and lay down on our wet wrappings.”102
Sunrise on August 19, 1864, revealed an unwanted fact—more Union troops had arrived during the night. General Archer met with his regimental commanders and explained the Confederates’ dire situation; the Yanks had taken possession of a portion of the Weldon Railroad. If the Federals were not driven from this position, a major supply route into Petersburg would be cut. The Southerners already were feeling pinched by their nation’s weak logistical network; if they lost this supply route, rations would be even more difficult to acquire. The brigade’s officers returned to their commands, anxious to explain the situation to their wary riflemen.
George Shepard addressed his brother Tennesseans; there were only 135 left, standing close by in the drenching rain. The Tennesseans listened to their commander respectfully, while gazing out at the strong Union formations. The Tennesseans looked to each other, their faces grim. To fail in this upcoming assault meant even tighter food supplies. But the veterans also knew what they faced—tough, veteran Yankees, well equipped, rested, and with full haversacks. Those Northerners occupied a strong position along the tracks, protected by the railroad’s berm. The Tennesseans shook their heads in dismay; this was like Pickett’s Charge all over again. This attack today could produce the same results. No one wanted to be the next person killed. No one wanted to be the next person lying on the ground, screaming in agony—plainly, no one wanted to make this attack. But they all listened to Shepard’s aching words and knew they would go forward when the call came. Shepard ordered his veterans to spread apart, hoping this would make them harder to hit. The Tennesseans did as their commander ordered; after all, they stood by each other, and had done so for a long time.
At 4:00 P.M. General Heth gave the order to attack. Shepard’s men advanced “through the drenching rain … upon nearly the same ground.”103 The Yanks facing the Confederates were from the division commanded by Brig. Gen. Romeyn Ayers. Their first volleys crashed into the Confederate line. Private John Sullivan (Co. I) was struck in the left arm, Pvt. David Hamilton (Co. H) was hit in the leg, and Pvt. Thomas Davis (Co. A) went down, hit twice, in the right thigh and in the head.104
Strangely, the Yanks’ initial volleys seemed feeble and misdirected, enabling the desperate Confederates to advance without suffering the horrible losses they expected. The Tennesseans did not know three other Confederate brigades, men from Maj. Gen. William Mahone’s division, had swept down upon the Yanks’ far right brigade, flanking the entire Federal battle line. The distracted Federals firing at the Tennesseans were much more concerned by this threat. A Union officer recorded, “Mahone, who was best acquainted with the woods, burst in on Ayer’s right and swept down on [them] … and seizing parts of the main line.”105
The Yanks resisted only briefly once Archer’s men reached their earthworks. A Southerner recalled, “The enemy was driven back, and the first line of works were soon in [our] hands.”106 George Shepard and Archie Norris rallied their small band of veterans together, grateful in having lost only a handful. Orders came to advance, and the 7th Tennessee moved forward, aligned with the other units in the brigade. Union troops from deep within the woods fired into the Tennesseans, knocking down, Pvt. William Rogers (Co. D) and Pvt. John Kennedy (Co. G).107
Archer’s men captured the Yankees’ second and third line of works before their advance stalled. Hundreds of frightened Federals milled around, surrendering or just cowering in their rifle pits. Quick thinking Federals held up haversacks and offered them to their captors. Others scampered about, forcing Confederates to chase them down. The resulting chaos ended the Southerners’ advance. One Confederate wrote, “After driving the Yanks a considerable distance [we took many] … prisoners.”108
The hungry Southerners emptied captured packs and haversacks, snatching up rations and coffee. Archer’s officers frantically struggled to maintain control over their excited men, knowing the day’s fighting was not over yet. Two Union brigades advanced and obliquely struck Archer’s disorganized men. The Confederates, standing amid piles of captured supplies, fought back. One Southern rifleman noted, “[Our] little brigade was battling with an overwhelming force … for over an hour this unequal contest was waged.”109 Sergeant John Williamson (Co. H) was wounded; Pvt. Charles Robison (Co. I) went down, as did Pvt. David Sweet (Co. E) and Pvt. Winfield Eatherly (Co. H).110 The entire Confederate line dissolved into bedlam and the Tennesseans’ resistance crumbled. They fell back through the woods, the Yankees close behind, catching up scores of Confederates. One of these captured veterans, Corporal Joseph Bashaw (Co. I), simply noted, “I was taken prisoner.”111
Archer’s men were driven from the woods and onto a pasture, and from there into a field of corn. Here, amid the safety of the cornstalks, the Southerners’ officers reassembled their formations. Brigadier General James Archer was adamant they retake those lost earthworks. If the Confederates could recapture those trenches they could continue to protect the Weldon railroad tracks; otherwise the railroad was lost, as well as the provisions which traveled those rails. Archer called for another assault, a desperate bid to save the railway.
George Shepard, anxious to keep his small command together, shouted at them to follow as he moved forward and out of the cornfield. Again, he spread his small force out in skirmish formation. The Southerners double-quicked forward toward the Union riflemen. The Federals immediately responded. One Federal officer recorded, “The enemy, collecting in a cornfield, came forward … [and] Hartranft[’s] brigade … [struck] them under a terrific fire of musketry.”112 Private James Williams (Co. E) was killed, Pvt. John Lane (Co. K) took a Minié ball in his left side, and Pvt. James Craft’s (Co. F) right leg was shattered.113 The attack collapsed and the survivors scurried back to the cornfield, leaving behind them a field littered with casualties.
James Archer screamed at his regimental commanders to get their units back together. He demanded they retake those trenches, regardless of the cost. Davis’s brigade formed up besides Archer’s and both generals goaded their men to make one more assault. Everyone was exhausted. No one relished the idea of another attack; everyone knew the results. But when the call came to advance, the Tennesseans, once again, stepped forward with their Confederate brothers.
Federal musketry ripped through the Southerners, but the Confederates kept coming. A Union officer wrote in admiration of this Tennessee valor: “The stubborn Heth made his third, last, and most desperate attack.”114 In George Shepard’s scruffy little formation, Pvt. Richard Gibbs (Co. B) fell, struck in the right leg, and Pvt. William Elliott (Co. C) suffered a slight injury.115 The gray formation closed upon the Yank battle line, moving to nearly seventy-five yards distance. The Federal fire increased as the Southerners got closer. Private Benjamin Sullivan (Co. I) was wounded, and Pvt. Hugh Baird (Co. F) went down, hit in the foot.116 The assault fell apart. A Federal wrote, “[My men] were stronger, both in troops and position…. Heth … made a gallant charge [and] was repulsed.”117 General Henry Heth wrote with disappointment, “Another attack was made on the enemy but failed to accomplish anything.”118
George Shepard and Archie Norris collected their survivors and led the miserable Tennesseans from the battlefield. Their attacks had failed, nearly two dozen more Tennesseans were gone, and they knew the railroad had been lost. The Confederate supply situation would now be extremely difficult. Every Tennessean knew hunger faced them with even a tighter clamp than before. They shook their heads in dismay, both at this battlefield defeat and at their terrible loss of comrades. Nothing good was coming of this war.
General James Archer sent word to Shepard to take his men back to the Petersburg trenches. They were to occupy a position in the lines near Battery 37, just south of the city. Here, the brigade remained for several weeks, “constantly engaged on the fortifications and in manning the trenches.”119 Then the weary men were shifted several miles west and ordered to commence the construction of fortifications parallel to the Boydton Plank Road. The Tennesseans had nothing left; they were completely spent. No one looked forward to what the future would bring. There were too many Yankees, and the enemy had so many cannons, and plenty of everything the Confederates lacked. The coming months could bring only misery. Regardless of this situation, the Tennesseans remained, following orders, manning the trenches, and attempting to hold the line.