The Greatest Move of the War: A Virginian Remembers Chancellorsville

     Private John Overton Casler of the 33^rd Virginia had already been through a half dozen battles in Virginia, but what he saw in the aftermath of Chancellorsville convinced him that “we were barbarians, North and South alike.”

          “The dead and badly wounded from both sides were lying where they fell. The woods, taking fire that night from the shells, burned rapidly and roasted the wounded men alive. As we went to bury them, we could see where they had tried to keep the fire from them by scratching the leaves away as far as they could reach. But it availed not; they were burnt to a crisp. The only way we could tell which army they belonged was by turning them over and examining their clothing where they lay close to the ground. There we would usually find some of their clothing that was not burnt, so we could see whether they wore the blue or the gray. We buried them all alike by covering them up with dirt where they lay. It was the most sickening sight I saw during the war,” he later recalled.

Private Casler joined the Potomac Guards from his home in Hampshire Co., Virginia on June 6, 1861 and first saw action under General Jackson’s command at First Bull Run where the Virginia brigade earned their “Stonewall Brigade” sobriquet. He later saw action at Kernstown, Winchester, Cross Keys, the Seven Days, and Second Manassas.

The 33^rd Virginia took part in the Battle of Chancellorsville as part of General Elisha F. Paxton’s brigade of Trimble’s Division, which was then under the command of General Raleigh Colston. His full account of the Battle of Chancellorsville starts at 3:15 on the afternoon of May 2, 1863 as Stonewall Jackson has lined up his flank attack and is about ready to launch his famous assault.

 

Private John Overton Casler of Co. A of the 33rd Virginia moved to Texas then Indian Territory in 1889 and became state commander of the United Confederate Veterans. He is most famously known for writing Four Years in the Stonewall Brigade in 1893; the memoir featured here was published in 1912 as part of Reminiscences of the Boys in Gray. Casler died in Ardmore, Oklahoma January 8, 1926 at age 87.

          As yet not a gun had been fired; everything was still and quiet; the troops were tired and moved about noiselessly and there were thick woods and underbrush on each side of the road with an occasional field or farm. While resting in this position, a courier came to us who was acquainted with some of our boys and said we were in the rear of the Yankees and that he could not tell how it was, but we would soon see the greatest move of the war.

          In a few minutes, Lieutenant Oscar Hinrichs, one of the engineers, came and said he wanted ten pioneers to go with him to remove a blockade in the road. I was one of the ten. We moved down the road in front and commenced clearing the road of trees that had been felled across it. There were four pieces of artillery then waiting to move forward. They unlimbered one piece and we helped them to get over the blockade before we had it cleared. They then fired a shot down the road and moved on. At the same time, the three lines of infantry moved forward at the double-quick with a yell. I learned afterwards that the firing of the gun was a signal for all to move; and move they did with a vengeance and moved everything in front of them. We soon got the blockade open, and all that artillery came through. We came upon another blockade and soon opened that. I heard two or three shells come tearing up the road from the enemy but heard nothing else from them until we got to Chancellorsville after dark.

          It was a running fight for three miles. We took them completely by surprise and our three divisions got merged into one line of battle, all going forward at full speed. Our artillery did not have time to unlimber and fire; they had to keep in a trot to keep up the infantry. We ran through the enemy’s camp where they were cooking supper. Tents were standing and camp kettles were on the fire full of meat. I saw a Newfoundland dog lying in one tent as quietly as if nothing had happened. It was the 11^th Army Corps that we first attacked and demoralized. Another corps, the 5^th, was sent to their assistance and likewise repulsed. Our army did not halt until dark when we came to the enemy’s fortified position in and around Chancellorsville.

The Union right flank at Chancellorsville at 5 p.m. on Saturday, May 2, 1863. Casler has spent part of the afternoon removing fallen trees from the Plank Road. 

          Charlie Cross, Sam Nunnelly, Jake Fogle, and I were together when the shelling commenced. We stepped to one side and happened to find a sink or low place where a tree had blown down sometime in the past and laid down in it. We filled it up even with the ground and it seemed as if the shells did not miss us more than six inches. Some would strike in front of us, scattering dirt all over us. I believe if I stuck my head up a few inches, I would have been killed. We could one scream out every second in the agonies of death. Jake Fogle kept praying all the time. Every time a shell would pass over us, Jake would say ‘Lord save us this time! Lord save us this time!’ Sam Nunnelly, a wild and reckless fellow, would laugh at him and say ‘Pray on, Jake. Pray on, Jake.’ And the two kept that us as long as the shelling lasted. Cross and I tried to get Sam to hush but it was no use.

          Our infantry and artillery did not reply as we did not have a piece in position. It stood in the road just where they left it when they drove up and every man of them was lying as close to the ground as they could get. They dug nose holes to get closer. The Yankees soon ceased firing, however, and the men commenced calling their commands again, making as much noise as ever. Immediately after we were treated to another dose of shells as terrific as before and with fearful effect, but for some reason it was not long continued. If the enemy had known the good range, they had on us and had kept it up, they would literally have torn us to pieces and nearly annihilated our corps that night. It was fortunate for us that they kept it up no longer, but it was fearful while it lasted.

          It was some time during the shelling that General Jackson was wounded. That night, it seems, General Jackson and his staff had gone in front of our line of skirmishers to reconnoiter in order to throw his corps between the enemy and the river when he met their line of skirmishers advancing. He wheeled at once and came back rapidly. Our line mistaking him and his staff for the enemy fired a volley into them with fatal effect, killing several and wounding others. General Jackson was shot through the right hand received two balls through the left arm. He had to lie there during the shelling and nearly bled to death before his wounds were stanched. They finally got him on a stretcher and started to the rear when some of the bearers were cut down and he fell heavily to the ground, opening the wounds afresh. They finally got him to the ambulance, and he was taken to the field hospital where Dr. Hunter McGuire amputated his left arm near the shoulder.

General Thomas J. Jackson

What Jackson’s plans were at the time he was wounded was the subject of speculation at the time and has been ever since. It was discussed among the soldiers in the field who generally believed that if Jackson had succeeded in getting in the rear of the enemy between Chancellorsville and the river, he would have been powerless to prevent Hooker’s retreat across the Rappahannock at United States Ford, and an attempt to hold the ford would have been disastrous. I am satisfied that no one but Jackson himself ever knew exactly what his plans were at that time. It would be well also to remember that couriers are soldiers taken from the ranks; couriers have opportunities to learn more military secrets than even staff officers; that they have comrades in the army, and that intelligent soldiers compose the rank and file of both armies.

          The battle that day was only a prelude to what was to follow on the next two days. General Hooker had massed his troops that night and strengthened his works and constructed new ones. The next morning, General J.E.B. Stuart took command of the corps and attacked the enemy on the flank while Lee attacked in front. It was charge after charge through thick underbrush as the cry of “Remember Stonewall Jackson” ran along the lines until the works were gained, the enemy driven from the field and our troops in possession of his strongest position. But at what cost? The loss of life was fearful, some of our regiments being almost decimated.

Meanwhile, General Lee was not idle, but kept hammering away all day at Chancellorsville, driving the enemy back at some points and holding his own everywhere. That night General Hooker, finding all his plans frustrated and his army defeated at both points, hastily retreated across the Rappahannock, leaving a good many prisoners, arms, artillery, etc. in our hands.

Our pioneer corps then went to work burying the dead when I witnessed the most horrible sight my eyes ever beheld. On the left of our line where the Louisiana brigade had fought the last evening of the battle and where they drove the enemy about one mile through the woods, and then in turn fell back to their own position, the scene beggared description. The dead and badly wounded from both sides were lying where they fell. The woods, taking fire that night from the shells, burned rapidly and roasted the wounded men alive. As we went to bury them, we could see where they had tried to keep the fire from them by scratching the leaves away as far as they could reach. But it availed not; they were burnt to a crisp. The only way we could tell which army they belonged was by turning them over and examining their clothing where they lay close to the ground. There we would usually find some of their clothing that was not burnt, so we could see whether they wore the blue or the gray. We buried them all alike by covering them up with dirt where they lay. It was the most sickening sight I saw during the war and I wondered whether the American people were civilized or not, to butcher one another in that manner and I came to the conclusion that we were barbarians, North and South alike.

 

Source:

Yeary, Mamie, editor. Reminiscences of the Boys in Gray, 1861-65. Dallas: Wilkinson Printing Co., 1912, pgs. 128-131