This poem describes Lee's retreat from Richmond in April 1865 after the Confederate capital fell to Union forces. It details the difficult conditions faced by Lee's army as they retreated westward across Virginia, low on supplies with Union troops in pursuit. Exhausted and outnumbered, Lee's forces engaged in skirmishes at Namozine Church and Amelia Court House in an attempt to break through the Union lines. However, with Grant's forces blocking their path and the army dissolving, Lee was forced to continue his retreat west until finally surrendering at Appomattox Court House.

1. White Lead in Red Clay
On Lee’s Retreat in Amelia County, Virginia
White lead in red clay in a rut in the road
Down from the old Cottrell farm—
The laneleads truenorth tothe line of the rail
Ov er which Davis had run.
And a twist upthe creek tothe hills tothe west
Winds out below Maplewood stop,
Where in early Aprilin the year ‘Sixty-five,
Rooney Lee said, “It shouldn’t be forced.”
They came after midnight with Richmond in flames,
From east through high-water fords,
On foot and starved mules, in beat-up horse trains;
By nine passed Namozine Church.
But at the stillcrossroads Johnson took the wrong turn;
Came back tofind Union swords.
The skirmish was hot,yet Southern valor pushed on.
Blood stained the floor of the church.
Marse Robert came up on the fourth of the month
Hoping for rations and corn
At Court House Station where his columns would meet,
But looking, he foundthere none—
Just some harnesses, bridals, balls, powder,andshells
In ninety-six caissons entrained.
He ordered them blown and reconsidered his course;
Sent out his pale riders for food.
With half a day lost at Amelia Court House
And blue infantry entrenching the rails,
With Grant down the line and ol’ Ord close behind,
And Yank horses on backroads and trails
From Jetersville north tothe Amelia Springs—
Ewell’s teamsters burned out around Paine’s—
When larders stood empty and corncribs withheld,
The gray army turned west once again.
James Longstreet camethrough,with Gordon,Mahone,
Fitz’ Lee, R. H. Anderson,
And some cadets, marines, and Richmond’s “blacktroops,”
Those day s when allseemed but lost.
And Phil Sheridan rode,Humphreys,Custer,and Wright—
With George Meade sickon his spare wagon perch.
Racing for Farmville togain the High Bridge and hope,
Flanked,Old Dixie took stand at the creeks.
The battles at Sailors sealed the fate of the Cause.
There,quarter an army was lost.
Grim soldiers went down,and eight generals quit;
Their wagons were left in the roads.
That wet, cold April, along rain-swollen branches
Bobby Lee rode on the Blackest of Days,
And just at last light on that lone,far away hill
Exclaimed,“My God has the Army dissolved?”
His Texans cried, “No!” whereSavannah boys fought—
Where they died in themud and themists.
They’d clawed hand-to-hand in a savage last fight
In a war that hadgone on toolong.
Escaping at dusk but with woe thus surecast,
Lee’s forces ev er westward regrouped:
To Rice’s, toFarmvilleand Cumberland Church,
Ending Palm Sunday, noon,as is known.
Fields now lie empty,but breezes yet whisper.
The flags aregone down tothedust.
All their guns are silent,but ghosts may be heard
At creeks that flow quietly north.
Sleek stones namethe sites and trails made famous
Along the draws where redbuds bloom,
Where the bravemen fell,but a Nation did rise:
Their gen’rals now reside in books.
-© 2014, MichaelF. Whitaker, Used by Permission