CHANCELLORSVILLE.
Ah I see you once more in your camp by the way;
Yes, again do I hear your guns in the fray!
In those tangled old woods you stood there in line,
While the foe was advancing! Ah boys, it was fine!
I remember it still, how they swept o’er the field
With their tiger like yell. They thought we would yield.
You stood like a rock, as all will agree--
My friends and my comrades of company B.
_M. B. Duffie._
On April 27th 1863, we again started on our tour through Virginia.
We crossed the Rappahannock at Kelley’s Ford, marched to the Rapidan
river, and went into camp on the south side. A brief rest, and again
on the march, arriving at Chancellorsville, where we waged battle
with the enemy from April 30th to May 5th. Here, on the 2nd of
May, occurred the famous charge of the eighth Pennsylvania cavalry,
numbering but three hundred men under Major Keenan, on Stonewall
Jackson’s leading division, keeping them back for a short time, giving
our generals time to place their guns in position, thus saving our army
from utter defeat. The tragic story is told by the poet Lathrop far
better than I can tell it.
“Cavalry, charge!” not a man of them shrank,
Their sharp full cheer, from rank to rank,
Rose joyously with a willing breath,
Then forward they sprang, and spurred and clashed,
Shouted the officers, crimson sashed;
Rode well the men, each brave as his fellow,
In their faded coats of the blue and yellow:
And above in the air, with an instinct true,
Like a bird of war, their pennon flew.
With clank of scabbards and thunder of steeds,
And blades that shine like sunlit reeds,
And strong brown faces bravely pale,
For fear their proud attempt shall fail,
Three hundred Pennsylvanians close,
On twice ten thousand gallant foes!
Line after line the troopers came,
To the edge of the wood that was ringed with flame;
Rode in and sabred, and shot, and fell;
Nor one came back, of his wounds to tell.
Line after line, ay, whole platoons,
Struck dead in their saddles, of brave dragoons,
By the maddened horses were onward borne,
And into the vortex flung, trampled and torn;
As Keenan fought with his men, side by side,
So they rode, till there were no more to ride.
But over them lying there, shattered and mute,
What deep echo rolls? ’Tis a death salute.
From the cannon in place! For heroes, you braved
Your fate not in vain, the army was saved!
They have ceased. But their glory shall never cease,
Nor their light be quenched in the light of peace.
The rush of their charge is resounding still,
That saved the army at Chancellorsville!
_George Parsons Lathrop._
We were defeated, and obliged to retreat, our brigade being detailed to
cover the retreat of our army back over the river. We formed a line of
battle, and as each division passed, we fell back a little nearer the
river, still keeping our line of battle. Finally we were within half a
mile of the river, where the last of our army were rapidly crossing on
pontoon bridges. General Griffin, our brigade commander, had crossed
the river on some duty assigned him, when he was informed that a large
force of the enemy was rapidly approaching, and his brigade would
inevitably be taken prisoners.
“If they are, I will be taken with them!” exclaimed our brave
commander, and spurring his horse, he rapidly crossed on the pontoons,
and soon reached us, and marched us quickly to the river, just as
the confederates approached, intent on gobbling us up. We cut the
fastenings of the pontoons, and the bridge swung off down the stream
just in time, and we were all safely landed on the other shore, happy
to know that we had escaped the horrors of a rebel prison, or death at
the hands of the merciless foe.
[Illustration]