re was any campaign during our civil war which was
especially, in a military sense, a glorious one for the rebels, and an
ignominious one for us, it was Chancellorsville. It is indeed a pity
that the skill of the one side and the errors of the other cannot be
once again pointed out, that the true and only possible explanation of
Hooker's one hundred and thirty thousand men being defeated by Lee's
sixty thousand cannot be once again stated, without eliciting from
a body of veterans of the old Third Corps a set of condemnatory
resolutions. There has been some very heated criticism of the recent
lectures, and not a little fault-finding with the lecturers. I presume
that none of the gentlemen who participated in the course would feel
like denying the inference, so often suggested, that the censors might
have done much better than they were able to do. Such censors generally
can. These dozen lecturers have all been earnest students of our civil
war, as is abundantly testified by the twenty odd volumes on the subject
published by them since the reports of operations became available; and
they keenly feel that modesty which is always bred of study. Such as
they had, they were glad to give the public; nor do they in any wise
shrink from generous disagreement or courteous criticism. I submit,
however, that some of the carping which has been indulged in is scarcely
apt to lead to the correction of errors, or the elucidation of truth.
It is passing strange, that, at this late day, one may not criticise the
military operations without arousing the evil spirit of the war. Can
we not aim at truth, rather than self-gratulation, which will live no
longer than we do? Criticism has always been indulged in, always will
be. If a Frederick may be dissected by a Lloyd, if a Napoleon may be sat
on in judgment by a Lanfrey, may not the merest tyro in the art of war
he pardoned for reviewing Hooker? The gallant soldier who helped make
history rarely writes history. The same spirit which sent him to
the front in 1861 generally keeps him busy to-day with the material
interests of the country. Despite the certainly novel fling of Fast Day
at one who went into service as a mere boy, it remains a fact that rank,
without the devoted study of years and a single eye to truth, will not
enable any one to write history. It was proven beyond a peradventure on
Fast Day, that the command of a corps, let alone a division, will not of
itself breed a historian. P