Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 2.
Reverend J. William Jones, Ed.

First battle of Reams' station.

On the same day, Wilson with his cavalry struck the Weldon railroad at Reams' Station, destroyed the track for several miles, and then pushed westward to the Southside road. Here, while tearing up the rails at “Blacks-and-whites,” having dispatched Kautz, meanwhile, to destroy the junction of the Southside and Danville roads at Burkeville, he was sharply assailed by W. H. F. Lee, who had followed him with his division of cavalry, and who now wrested from him the road upon which the raiders were moving. Again and again did Wilson seek to wrest it back, but Lee could not be dislodged. The combat was renewed next day, lasting from midday till dark, but at daylight of the 24th the Federal cavalry withdrew, leaving their killed and wounded on the field.¹ Wilson reached Meherrin Station on the Danville road the same day, and Kautz having rejoined him, the two columns pushed on rapidly to Staunton River Bridge. But the local militia, entrenched at that point, behaved with great firmness, and W. H. F. Lee boldly attacking, again drove the Federals before him until dark.² Wilson now turned to regain the lines in front of Petersburg, but his officers and men were marauding in a fashion which no prudent officer, on [275] such service as his, should ever have allowed, while W. H. F. Lee hung upon his rear with an exasperating tenacity which brought delay and redoubled his difficulties. At every step, indeed, the peril thickened, for Hampton, who had crossed the James, now came to W. H. F. Lee's help with a strong body of horse, and attacking the enemy on Tuesday evening (June 28th), at Sappony Church, drove him until dark, harassed him the livelong night, turned his left in the morning, and sent him helter-skelter before his horsemen.³

Wilson, fairly bewildered, sought to reach Reams' Station, which he believed to be still in possession of the Federals--a determination destined to be attended with irreparable disaster to him, for General Lee had dispatched thither two brigades of infantry (Finnegan's and Saunders') under Mahone, and two light batteries (Brander's and “the Purcell” ), under Pegram, followed by Fitz. Lee, who had just roughly handled Gregg at Nance's Shop, and who now came down at a sharp trot to take part in the tumult. Wilson, reaching his objective, descried ominous clouds of dust rising on the roads by which he had hoped to win safety, but offering, in desperation, a seemingly bold front prepared for battle.

Informed by a negro, whose knowledge of the country notably expanded at sight of a six-shooter, that there was a “blind-road” leading in rear of Wilson's left, Fitz. Lee at once pushed forward with his dusky guide, and having assured himself by personal reconnoissance of the truth of the information, quickly made his dispositions. Lomax's horsemen, dismounted, were formed across this road, with Wickham's mounted brigade in reserve, the latter being instructed to charge so soon as Lomax had shaken the enemy. In a twinkling, as it seemed, the rattling fire of the carbines told that Lomax was hotly engaged, and on the instant the movement in front began — the infantry, under Mahone, advancing swiftly across the open field, pouring in a biting volley, Pegram firing rapidly for a few moments, then limbering up and going forward at a gallop to come into battery on a line with the infantry, while Fitz. Lee, the Federals rapidly giving ground before his dismounted troopers, called up his mounted squadrons and went in with his rough stroke at a thundering pace on the enemy's left and rear.⁴

For a brief space the confused combat, ever receding, went on — fierce shouts of triumph mingling with the dismal cries of stricken [276] men, ringing pistol shots, the clattering fire of cavalry carbines, the dull roar of the guns — then, on a sudden, the headlong pace of “Runaway down.” The woods were now all ablaze, for Wilson had fired his trains, and the infantry and artillery, pressing forward through the stifling heat and smoke, were greeted by a sight not soon to be forgotten — a score or two of Federal troopers, in gaily-trimmed jackets, lying dead upon their faces in the dusty road — pistols, carbines, sabres, scattered over the ground in wildest profusion — a long line of ambulances filled with wounded men, who gave vent to piteous moans — a confused mass of guns, caissons, supply and ordnance wagons, dead horses, stolen vehicles of all kinds, from the wonderful “one-horse shay” to the old family carriage, all of them crammed with books, bacon, looking-glasses, and ladies' wearing apparel of every description, from garments of mysterious pattern to dresses of the finest stuff — while cowering along the road side were nearly a thousand fugitive negroes, the poor creatures almost pallid with fright, the pickaninnies roaring lustily, several of the women in the pangs of childbirth. Nor was this shameful pillage on the part of the men to be wondered at, for in the head-quarter wagon of the commanding general was found much plunder — among other articles of stolen silver a communion-service inscribed “Saint John's Church, Cumberland Parish, Lunenburg.” ⁵