Nothing except a battle lost can be half so melancholy as a
battle won.
--WELLINGTON.
I did not serve long as the adjutant of the 47th regiment. In March,
1863, Company I of the 40th regiment, having from one cause or another
lost all its officers, unanimously desired that I should become their
captain, and this desire was approved by Colonel Brockenbrough, who
commanded that regiment, as well as by General Heth, who commanded the
brigade. I was loath to sever connection from the regiment to which I
had been attached since the beginning of the war, but I accepted the new
position, because it was in the line of promotion, and the men of the
company were from my native county and well known to me; moreover, I
would still be in the same brigade with my old comrades of the 47th. My
captain's commission was dated April 30, and was signed by James A.
Seddon, Secretary of War.
When the spring had come General Joseph Hooker, the successor of
unfortunate Burnside, having crossed the Rappahannock river, took up a
strong position at Chancellorsville, with an army numerically twice as
strong as the available Confederate forces, and declared by him to be
"the finest army on the planet." At the same time a powerful detachment
under General Sedgwick crossed the river below Fredericksburg and made
demonstrations of attack upon the Confederate lines. Never was General
Lee confronted by a more perilous situation, and never did his military
genius more brilliantly appear.
In war so much depends upon the commander, that I advance the confident
opinion that if the Confederates had been under the charge of Hooker and
Sedgwick, and Lee and Jackson had had command of the Federal soldiers
above and below Fredericksburg, the Confederate army would have been
destroyed; and the Army of the Potomac would have walked straight into
Richmond. That army would indeed have been "the finest on the planet,"
if the skill and the courage of its commander had equaled its numbers,
its aggressive power, and its opulent equipment.
Hooker had a grand opportunity, but ingloriously failed to use it. He
had conceived a good plan of action, and he successfully executed its
initial movement; but when the decisive hour arrived his resolution
failed. Instead of advancing aggressively on to Fredericksburg, as he
had begun to do, he turned back and fortified his army with
intrenchments. Did he mistrust himself, or his army, or both? His
original scheme contemplated offensive tactics, and all its merit was
sacrificed when he began to erect defensive fortifications.
Let me here briefly describe Chancellorsville and its environments as I
saw them during the battle. There was no village there, but only a large
brick tavern with a few outbuildings, located immediately on the north
side of the road that connects Fredericksburg and Orange. In the rear
it was separated from the forest by a narrow field, while in front and
across the road there was a large space of open land. In the direction
of Orange the road and fields declined to a wooded ravine. On the
slightly elevated land in front of the tavern the Yankees had unlimbered
twenty Napoleon cannon, and along the side of the ravine they had
erected breastworks of logs and earth.
Late in the afternoon of Friday, May 1, our brigade had marched up from
Fredericksburg and halted in striking distance of the Federal army. What
could we expect but that in the morning we should be waging an assault
upon its fortified position? Instead of that Jackson led us with the
rest of his corps around the front of that position until we struck the
road on the Orange side of Chancellorsville. We were now on Hooker's
right flank, having marched quickly and silently fifteen miles over a
rough and unfrequented road. The sun was sinking toward the western
horizon when our lines of attack were formed on both sides of the road
and at right angles to it. Immediately the onslaught began, silent,
rapid, resolute, Heth's brigade being on the north or left side of the
road. We had not proceeded far before we struck Howard's corps all
unsuspecting and unprepared. Their fires were kindled for cooking
supper, and dressed beeves were ready for distribution among the
companies. They fled before us, strewing the ground with muskets,
knapsacks, and other accouterments. Whoever censures them for running
would probably have acted as they did, for our charge was as lightning
from a cloudless sky. On the way we crossed a little farm, and as I
passed the dwelling I saw several ladies who were wildly rejoicing.
When we had come within half a mile of Chancellorsville daylight had
faded into night. The moon had risen, but her rays were rendered
intermittent by scudding clouds. The darkness, the tangled undergrowth
of the forest, and the entrenchments and artillery of the enemy combined
to arrest our progress. Those cannon of which I have spoken shelled the
woods in which we lay, and what a cannonade it was! The trees and bushes
trembled, the air was laden with sulphurous fumes, the very earth seemed
to quake under the impulse of exploding shells. There was, however, more
noise than execution; only one man of my company was struck, and his
broken jaw was bound up by my handkerchief.
From my position on the roadside I saw a few riderless horses running
terror-stricken to the rear. These were, I believe, the animals that
Jackson and his aides had ridden to the front. It is recorded that he
was wounded by some soldiers of the 18th North Carolina regiment who
were in the brigade of General James H. Lane. If this statement were
made on less reliable authority it might be questioned; for I know that
the Yankees were close to our front and that Jackson could not have
ridden far beyond our line without encountering their volley. We did not
hear until next morning that our peerless leader had been shot. Alas!
As when Hector fell the doom of Troy was sealed, so with the death of
Jackson the star of the Southern Confederacy declined.
Late in the night the firing ceased, and the Gray and the Blue lay on
their arms, catching brief snatches of troubled sleep, and abiding the
renewal of hostilities with the coming morning.
On the bright and pleasant Sunday that ensued no chiming bells nor
melodies of sacred music were heard upon that famous field, but only the
cries of antagonistic men and the horrid din of batteries and muskets.
Our brigade being transferred to the right side of the road and drawn up
in line of battle in the forest, it was not long before the renowned
Stonewall brigade passed by us and charged upon the breastworks of the
enemy. It was repulsed with heavy loss, the Yankees having
preponderating advantage of position. Then Pender's intrepid brigade of
North Carolinians had a similar experience. There were no braver
soldiers in the army than the men composing these two defeated brigades.
When, therefore, the command to charge was given to us, could we hope
for a better result? As we advanced a shell struck the ground
immediately before me, exploded and covered me with dirt, but
providentially inflicted no wounds. Onward we rushed with the usual
inspiriting Rebel yell. When we came in sight of those formidable rifle
pits we were delighted to find them abandoned by our foes; and when we
climbed over them and entered the field just beyond them we were no less
glad to discover that those batteries that had so noisily shelled us the
night before had been withdrawn.
There in full view toward our left stood Chancellor's tavern, and the
large field in front was literally filled with Federal soldiers in
perfect array marching northward,--that is, to the rear. The retreat of
Hooker's army had begun; they were not whipped but out-generaled.
Passing across the road by the tavern and entering the forest behind it,
they left not in sight a single blue coat, save that a battery in the
tavern yard was firing upon us. Two Confederate batteries galloped up to
our line, and, unlimbering, opened upon the battery in the yard at close
range. There were in the Southern armies many soldiers in their teens,
but here at one of the guns labored a boy who was, as I guessed from his
size, not more than twelve years old. It was his part to fire the gun by
pulling the lanyard, and as often as he did it he playfully rolled over
backward. "Boys will be boys" even in the peril of battle. In the
meantime Jeb Stuart, temporarily assigned to the command of Jackson's
corps, came riding into the field, and in a spirit not unlike that of
the boy was singing, "Old Joe Hooker, won't you get out the wilderness?"
The Yankee battery withdrew; the battle was ended. The tavern was all
ablaze, having been ignited by one of our shells,--the house that an
hour before had been the headquarters of General Hooker. Our army was
resting along the road in front of the burning building. As General Lee
rode by, a waggish fellow of the 47th said, "General, we are too tired
to cheer you this morning," and he pleasantly replied, "Well, boys, you
have gotten glory enough for one day."