The Battle of Meadow Bridge (also known as Meadow Bridges and the Battle of Richmond Heights) was an engagement on May 12, 1864, in Henrico County, Virginia, during Lt. Gen. Ulysses S. Grant's Overland Campaign of the American Civil War. Following their victory at the Battle of Yellow Tavern on May 11, Union cavalry under Maj. Gen. Philip H. Sheridan advanced in the direction of the Confederate capital of Richmond. Caught in the narrow area between the fortifications of Richmond and the rain-swollen Chickahominy River, the Union troopers were subjected to fire from the artillery of Confederate Maj. Gen. Fitzhugh Lee. Michigan cavalry under Brig. Gen. George A. Custer forced a crossing of a damaged railroad bridge, which was quickly rebuilt by engineers, allowing the troopers to escape to safety and continue their raid.
Read more about Battle Of Meadow Bridge: Background, Battle, Aftermath
Famous quotes containing the words battle of, battle, meadow and/or bridge:
“The Battle of Waterloo is a work of art with tension and drama with its unceasing change from hope to fear and back again, change which suddenly dissolves into a moment of extreme catastrophe, a model tragedy because the fate of Europe was determined within this individual fate.”
—Stefan Zweig (18811942)
“Marriage is a fierce battle before which the two partners ask heaven for its blessing, because loving each other is the most audacious of enterprises; the battle is not slow to start, and victory, that is to say freedom, goes to the cleverest.”
—HonorĂ© De Balzac (17991850)
“lady through whose profound and fragile lips
the sweet small clumsy feet of April came
into the ragged meadow of my soul.”
—E.E. (Edward Estlin)
“It launchd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.
And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be formd, till the ductile anchor hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O, my soul.”
—Walt Whitman (18191892)