To South Virginia for Supplies

Here then for some weeks did the two armies lay in the peace of camp life after the fever of battle. Burnside attempted a movement, known as the mud march, quickly made abortive by the condition of roads, and then Mr. Lincoln reluctantly removed him, placing Hooker—"Fighting Joe Hooker"—in command of the Army of the Potomac. It was in May before he attempted his disastrous move against Lee and Jackson.

Meantime, our army was in want of all supplies. The subsistence department lacked fresh meat. In southern Virginia and eastern North Carolina there were said to be large quantities of small cattle which, fattened on the good Virginia pasture lands, would greatly help the subsistence officers. There were also there large stores of bacon and corn. It was decided to send part of Lee's army to operate in that region, and, at the same time, by covering large wagon trains, we should be enabled to use that part of the country for the Virginia army.

It had sometimes been occupied by the enemy, at all times exposed to their sudden incursions. But these, it is thought, formed the least of the reasons governing Lee when sending Longstreet and two of his strong divisions to Nansemond and Suffolk. It was daring to make such a large draft on his army, but Lee was given to daring efforts, with a great objective in view. The Northern army was becoming dangerously strong for him to view calmly, and another strong body was preparing to threaten Richmond from a different quarter. Lee may have reasoned, as he did in some of his Valley operations, that by detaching Longstreet, Hooker would be quickly induced to follow him, by sending from his army a still larger force for the safety of the threatened districts. But it proved they had enough troops for such reinforcements without impairing Hooker's great strength.

Our two divisions, Hood's and Pickett's, and a battalion of artillery broke camp and halted at Petersburg, whence the force found camps on the Nansemond River, in a manner besieging the town of Suffolk, strongly held by the Federals.

By Longstreet's order I set out alone for a short visit of inspection to the eastern boundary of North Carolina. It was the little town of Washington, on the head of a tidal river, that, I think, I first visited. There was nothing there but a well-built, strong earthwork fort, and a fine, full regiment, doing nothing and eager for action. It was not likely to come to them at that dull place, and on my recommendation the regiment was sent to Lee.

The lieutenant-colonel (Lamb) gave me a warm fur collar, which was always a comfort, and he was delighted with the pair of spurs I made him accept from me (they were made from the brass trunnion beds of the monitor Keokuk, sunk by our forces at Charlestown). Poor Lamb was killed in the first engagement of his regiment. My instructions were to lose no time, but, after a glance around, hasten back to the command. When I returned it was seen that nothing had been achieved. Some little bluffing had been made at the town of Suffolk, in which we lost two pieces of artillery and gained nothing. Time was passing, the Virginia roads improving, and some restlessness apparent among us. We knew, of course, that Hooker must soon fight, and that we should be there. At last General Lee sent for us in haste, not a moment was to be lost. Not a moment was lost; we threw everything into movement, realizing how keenly our beloved commander and comrades on the Rappahannock would be wanting their Lieutenant-General and his two splendid divisions. But it was humanly impossible. We were late, Hooker had attacked rather earlier than expected, and on May 3 the battle was given, and our great Jackson fell in glorious victory while we were miles distant by railroad from the memorable field of Chancellorsville.

General Pickett was a widower, but had recently suffered himself to fall in love with all the ardor of youth. The object of these fiery, if mature, affections dwelt not far from Suffolk. Pickett's visits were frequent, a long night ride and return for duty early next day. Perhaps he had wearied Longstreet by frequent applications to be absent, but once he came to me for the authority. My answer was, "No, you must go to the Lieutenant-General." "But he is tired of it, and will refuse. I swear, Sorrel, I'll be back before anything can happen in the morning." I could not permit myself to be moved. If anything did happen, such as a movement of his division or any demonstration against it, my responsibility for the absence of the Major-General could not be explained. But Pickett went all the same, nothing could hold him back from that pursuit. He married some time after. I don't think his division benefited by such carpet-knight doings in the field.

While Longstreet was holding this brief independent command, a scout, more properly a spy, was placed at his service by the War Department. He was a man of about thirty years, calling himself a Mississippian, and was altogether an extraordinary character. He was paid in United States greenbacks. I approved requisition on the quartermaster every month for $150 for him. His time seemed to be passed about equally within our lines and the enemy's. Harrison (such was his name) always brought us true information. There was invariable confirmation of his reports afterwards.

While always suspicious that such secret instruments give away as much as they bring and may be in the pay of both sides, it was difficult to be sure of this in Harrison's case. He went everywhere, even through Stanton's War Office at Washington itself, and brought in much. We could never discover that he sold anything against us; besides, we had means, and did verify his account of himself as coming from Mississippi. When Longstreet gave him up in September, he was sorry afterwards and missed the man. He made me try to get him back for our command, but I failed.

There will be more to say of Harrison before losing him. On the whole he appears to have been a daring Southerner, hating Yankees most bitterly, but loving their greenbacks, and fond of secret, perilous adventure. Latrobe recently heard from him in Baltimore, in want, and asking some small assistance.

Upon rejoining our army after Chancellorsville we were, of course, eager questioners and listeners for everything about the battle.

Gratifying it was to hear on all sides of the conduct of our two divisions, which bore so large a part of the attacks on Lee. Anderson and McLaws had never fought better; while Lee, to hold his position and beat off Hooker, had to have the very best every man could give him. It was a battle most extraordinary in its execution and development. The powerful movement on Lee's rear by Sedgwick's force from Fredericksburg was enough to disconcert any ordinary commander. Lee, calm and undismayed, met it by thinning out his lines to almost a frazzle, and throwing a good division before John Sedgwick, while he and Jackson were preparing the blow that made "Fighting Joe Hooker's" head split with surprise and agony and sent him flying back across the Rappahannock.

The great flank movement of Stonewall had been carefully planned by Lee and most brilliantly executed by the Lieutenant. But the army had suffered the irreparable loss of that hero. Struck down in the gloaming and thick foliage of the forest, by his own men, his dauntless spirit clung to his army for a week, among ever-hopeful soldiers, and then took its warrior's flight to its Supreme Maker. There was none left in his place; there was but one Jackson.

When Marye's Hill was attacked by Sedgwick in Lee's rear, the battery in action there had to make a hurried escape. One of its officers, a dear friend of mine, Lieut. Frederick Habersham, had been killed at his section. His comrades determined to have his body, and lashed it to the trail of a gun, and there it hung, firmly bound, a sight not often witnessed, while the battery, already late in retiring, was at a gallop in escape from the pursuing enemy. It was accomplished handsomely, and the brave fellow received his interment by the hands of loving wife and friends at his home in Savannah. It was my brother, Doctor Sorrel, in Richmond, who, with many difficulties, arranged for the care and transportation home of the slain artillerist.