They
had
had
their
fill
of
desperate
fighting,
and
this
pitiless
little
man
was
leading
them
into
nothing
except
more fighting,
and
probably
there
would
be
no
end
to
it,
but
at least
he
was
not
leading
them
back
in
sullen
acceptance
of defeat,
and
somewhere,
many
miles
ahead,
there
would
be victory
for
those
who
lived
to
see
it.
So
there
was
tremendous cheering,
and
Grant's
big
horse
Cincinnati
caught
the
excitement
and
reared
and
pranced,
and
as
he
got
him
under
control
Grant
told
his
staff
to
have
the
men
stop
cheering
because
the
Rebels
were
not
far
away
and
they
would
hear
and know
that
a
movement
was
being
made.
26
It
was
the
same
on
other
roads.
Sedgwick's
men
backtracked
to
Chancellorsville,
and
as
the
men
reached
that
fatal crossroads
the
veterans
knew
how
the
land
lay
and
knew
that if
they
took
the
left-hand
fork
they
would
be
retreating
and
if they
turned
to
the
right
they
would
be
going
on
for
another fight.
The
column
turned
right,
and
men
who
made
the
march wrote
that
with
that
turn
there
was
a
quiet
relaxing
of
the tension
and
a
lifting
of
gloom,
so
that
men
who
had
been slogging
along
quietly
began
to
chatter
as
they
marched. Here
and
there
a
regiment
sang
a
little.
27
Back
by
the
wagon
trains
one
of
Sedgwick's
officers
came upon
Burnside's
division
of
colored
soldiers,
so
dust-colored the
men
looked
white.
They
were
heading
south
like
everyone
else,
and
the
officer
saw
a
big
colored
sergeant
prodding his
men
on
with
the
butt
of
his
rifle
and
ordering,
"Close
up dere,
lambs."
28
3. All Their Yesterdays
This
was
the
night
when
everybody
was
dog-tired.
The whole
army
was
on
the
march,
the
wood
smoke
hung
in
the still
air
on
the
windless
roads,
and
the
only
noise
was
the
endless
shuffle
and
scuffle
of
feet
in
the
dirt,
and
now
and
then the
clank
of
bayonets
rattling
against
canteens.
The
men
were drunk
with
fatigue,
and
nerves
were
as
frazzled
as
muscles. The
dust
rose
in
choking
clouds,
so
that
blue
uniforms
looked gray
when
the
columns
passed
campfires,
and
the
men
in
the ranks
staggered
against
each
other
and
tripped
on
one
another's
heels.
Looking
back
on
it
afterward,
a
man
in
the
VI Corps
felt
that
the
whole
night
was
"a
medley
of
phantasmagoria,"
and
the
one
sustaining
thought
was
that
at
the
very least
they
were
going
to
get
out
of
the
Wilderness.
1
The
main
road
south
was
the
Brock
Road,
and
Warren
's m
en
had
the
lead.
They
came
around
midnight
to
an
obscure crossroads
where
Todd's
Tavern
was
situated,
and
there
they ran
into
an
insane
traffic
tie-up.
This
had
many
causes,
most of
which
could
be
blamed
on
the
attempt
to
make
a
forced march,
along
inadequate
forest
roads,
with
an
army
that
was almost
out
of
its
head
with
weariness;
but
it
was
one
of
the most
expensive
traffic
tie-ups
in
American
history,
because
in the
long
run
it
cost
many
lives.
It
was
a
bad
time
for
delay.
Off
to
the
southeast
was
the tiny
hamlet
of
Spotsylvania
Court
House;
a
sleepy
village where
a
few
stores
and
houses
stood
grouped
about
a
little park
containing
a
brick
box
of
a
building
with
Greek-revival pillars
across
the
front,
the
whole
place
as
insignificant
and
as unknown
to
the
world
at
large
as
Chickamauga
and
Antietam creeks
had
been
a
year
or
so
earlier.
Now
the
village
was about
to
take
on
a
sinister
and
enduring
fame,
because
in
this region
of
meandering
unpaved
highways
it
was
an
important road
crossing.
The
outcome
of
the
war
might
depend
on which
army
got
there
first.
If
the
Army
of
the
Potomac
could win
the
race,
it
would
stand
between
Lee's
army
and
Richmond,
and
the
outnumbered
Confederates
might
be
forced to
destroy
themselves
attacking
Yankee
breastworks.
Thus there
was
need
for
haste,
and
the
march
was
pressed.
But
it
was
like
moving
in
a
nightmare.
The
road
was
narrow
and
the
darkness
was
absolute,
and
the
men
dozed stupidly
as
they
walked.
Somewhere
off
to
the
right
was
the Confederate
army,
a
moving
presence
which
every
man
could feel
and
which
made
itself
physically
known,
now
and
then, through
a
spat-spat
of
skirmish
fire
somewhere
ahead.
Rebel cavalry
had
been
ranging
these
parts
and
it
had
cut
down trees
and
left
them
lying
across
the
road,
and
men
with
axes had
to
go
forward
and
cut
these
logs
apart
before
the
army could
pass.