“Right now the Confederates were dug in behind the headwaters of Totopotomoy Creek, an insignificant watercourse whose turns and swampy banks offered good defensive ground. The chance of breaking with line looked no better than in the Wilderness or at Spotsylvania. It was better to go around the line then try to go through it, and to go around it would be harder here than it had been before.”
“Down below the Federal left, within a mile or so of the Chickahominy, there was another of those seedy taverns that dotted the Virginia landscape-a quiet place at sleepy crossroads, the name of it Cold Harbor, perched unobtrusively on a highway that wandered up from the Federal supply base, back at White House on the Pamunkey, and went on to cross the Chickahominyan and go to Richmond.”
One More River to Cross, A Stillness at Appomattox, Bruce Cotton
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