n his hand, he
carried them, waving and jesticulating in a friendly manner, until he
convinced the troops that they were friends in their front.

While thus waiting for Anderson to swing around the left of the enemy,
a desperate charge was made upon us. The cannonading was exceedingly
heavy and accurate. Great trees all around fell, snapped in twain by
the shell and solid shot, and many men were killed and wounded by the
falling timber. Trees, a foot in diameter, snapped in two like pipe
stems, and fell upon the men. It was growing dark before Anderson
could get in position, and during that time the troops never
experienced a heavier shelling. It was enough to make the stoutest
hearts quake. One of my very bravest men, one who had never failed
before, called to me as I passed, "Captain, if I am not here when the
roll is called, you may know where I am. I don't believe I can stand
this." But he did, and like the man he was, withstood it. Another, a
young recruit, and under his first fire, almost became insane, jumping
upon me and begging "for God's sake" let him go to the rear. I could
not stand this piteous appeal, and knowing he could not be of any
service to us in that condition, told him "to go." It is needless to
say he obeyed my orders. Dr. Evans, our surgeon, told me afterwards
that he came to his quarters and remained three days, perfectly crazy.

At last the order came after night to advance. In a semi-circle we
swept through the thicket; turning, we came into the road, and over
it into the opening in front. The enemy was pushed back into the
breastworks on the bluff at the river. These breastworks had been
built by our troops during the Fredericksburg battle, and afterwards
to guard and protect Raccoon and Ely's fords, just in rear. As night
was upon us, and the enemy huddled before us at the ford, we were
halted and lay on the field all night. This was the ending of the
battle of Chancellorsville.

Next morning the sun was perfectly hidden by a heavy fog, so much so
that one could not see a man twenty yards distant. Skirmishers were
thrown out and our advance made to the river, but nothing was found
on this side of the river but the wounded and the discarded rifles and
munitions of war. The wounded lay in all directions, calling for help
and heaping curses upon their friends, who had abandoned them in their
distress. Guns, tent flies, and cartridge boxes were packed up by the
wagon loads. Hooker's Army was