ARCHER'S BRIGADE AT CHANCELLORSVILLE BY H. T. CHILDS, FAYETTEVILLE, TENN.

[The following article is excerpted from Confederate Veteran Magazine]

From the second battle of Manassas the Confederate army moved triumphantly, rolling the lines of blue entirely from Virginia's soil. It was the grandest campaign of the war. When I had sufficiently recovered from my wound, I returned in February, 1863, to my command and found the boys in winter quarters on the banks of the Rappahannock River, near Fredericksburg, Va.

On the last day of April General Burnside began crossing the river in his "On-to-Richmond" campaign. The first day Major General Lee's army left its winter quarters, and all day long both armies were maneuvering. That night my company was sent forward on picket duty, and we were stationed, two on a post, thirty or forty steps from the Yankee pickets. The boy who stood with me was my messmate, R. H. Anthony, as noble a boy as Franklin County ever produced. He was sick and wanted to lie down; but though it was very cold, no man was allowed to unroll his blanket. About midnight I told him to lie down and go to sleep, and I unrolled my blanket and spread it over him. Occasionally during the night some Yank or Johnny would expose himself, and then there would be a general fusillade of musketry. Just before break of day every band of music along the Confederate lines struck up "Dixie." It was grand! As our music died away, every band along the Federal lines struck up "Rally Round the Flag, Boys," and it too was grand. Then both sides struck up "Home, Sweet Home." As this music died away, with thoughts of home and tears in my eyes, I kicked Bob and told him to get up, and then the rattle of musketry began. We were expecting the Yanks to drive us in, and they were expecting us to drive them in. When our line reached the brow of the hill we found our boys in line behind temporary breastworks in breathless expectation of a heavy column of blue to be right after us; but the Yankees did not come. I never was as cold in my life and felt that we ought to be allowed to make a cup of coffee and eat breakfast. But no; the day's march was on.

It was now the 2d of May. We were moving in a northwest direction, and each army seemed to be trying to out flank the other. About 3 P.M. Stonewall Jackson turned the right wing of the Federals. All evening the battle raged, and that night Stonewall Jackson was mortally wounded by his own troops. During the day's march Bob Anthony, who was very sick, managed to keep up, his brother, Rod Anthony, and I by turns carrying his gun. Just at dark the command came, "By company file left!" This moved us into the bushes. "Halt, front, stack arms! Lie down, boys, and go to sleep."Bob Anthony asked me to get him a canteen of water, and other boys came with their canteens. Taking eight of them, I slipped back into the road, examining the boughs of the trees as I went along so I would know the place when I got back. Passing forward, for I knew there was no water on the road we had come over, I soon came to the plank road, where General Jackson struck the Yankees that evening. The road was full of Confederates and Yankee prisoners. As I turned to the left I met an artilleryman who had been to water his horses. He pointed to a big light in the distance as the place where General Hill's wounded had been gathered and said I would find plenty of good water there. It was a mile away, but I got there, and after drinking all I wanted I sat down to rest and watched the army surgeons amputate arms and legs. It was frightful to see them grab up a boy and lay him down upon a scaffold, while he begged for his arm or leg. I soon got tired of this barbarity, filed my canteens, and started back. On getting back to my starting point, I was perplexed, for there were no stacks of arms there and no boys sleeping on the ground. Feeling that Bob would not leave me, I began calling him. He answered, saying the brigade had moved, but he had waited for me. The brigade had moved only a short distance, and we were soon with the company. While handing the canteens to their owners General Archer dashed in among us. He had spread his blanket just in rear of our company and, hearing the racket about the canteens, came to see if he could get a drink. I handed him my canteen, and he almost emptied it.

At one o'clock on the morning of the 3d of May a courier came riding in among the sleeping boys, calling General Archer, who was directed to form his brigade upon the plank road and take the line of march just behind General Pender's brigade. Then General Archer's shrill voice rang out upon the night air: "Tennessee brigade, fall in!" Soon everything was ready to move. Then General Archer came to us, calling for that sick man, and told Bob to stay upon the plank road until Dr. McGuire came up with the ambulances, and he would get to ride.

Soon the march to the great battle of Chancellorsville was in full swing. As we moved down the road we could see the dead Yankees and dead horses left upon the field the evening before. When we began to get near the Federal lines our officers cautioned us to make no noise. Filing to the right in a dense jungle, we got in position and were told to lie clown with guns in hand and sleep if we could. The Boon's Hill company (Co. K, 1st Tennessee Inf. [Turney's), Prov. Army) were deployed as skirmishers, and soon they had taken the Yankee pickets off their posts. At the first streak of day the company officers aroused us, and we moved forward some fifty yards and halted to dress our lines. Then General Archer's shrill, clear voice was heard along the line "Fix bayonets Forward, guide center Charge'em, boys!" With an onward bound and the terrific whoop of the wild Rebel yell, we dashed forward through the dense jungle, the Boon's Hill boys falling in as the line of battle came up, and George Jones happened to fall in by my side. Soon we struck a steep little hill, and right up it we went. Along the brow of this hill the Yankees had thrown up temporary breastworks. They were taken by surprise. Over these works we poked our guns and poured a volley into them as they were getting up. A battalion of artillery was standing there. We killed every horse and, I suppose, every artilleryman. How General Archer got there on his big gray horse I do not know, but he commanded, "Right over, boys!" and, spurring his horse, he scaled the works. Then he waved his sword and commanded, "Halt!" He wanted to re-form his lines.

But they would not halt. When on a charge, Tennesseeans haven't got a bit of sense. On they rushed, the Yankees in their confusion shooting back at us. I was just as afraid of being shot by our own men from behind as I was of being shot by the Yankees in front. In we swept in a southeast direction, the Yankees pulling for their second line of works on the brow of the next ridge. They jumped the little creek and moved rapidly up the slope. We too jumped the creek in our confusion, and when within two hundred yards of their second line we met a volley of Yankee bullets. Then we began to touch elbows and move steadily in a good line up the hill to a kind of bench, where we could lie down and load, then rise and fire. From this position I fired three times and began loading again. I could see comrades falling around me. One boy from the 14th Tennessee Regiment fell right across me. George Jones, who had kept with me, had a breech-loading gun, and he was loading and firing rapidly. As he was getting down to reload it seemed to me that I saw a bullet whistle through his mouth, and at the same time he was shot in the knee. When my gun was loaded I hesitated, then I thought, "That is what I am here for," and as I made my spring to rise I was shot through the left thigh. Just then our line began to retreat, leaving us wounded boys within forty yards of the enemy's works. Coming over their works, the Yankees in perfect line began to advance. I said to George: "They are coming." He said: "Let them come; I would as soon die now as any time." We thought they would pin us to the earth with their bayonets as they came over us. On they came, making the earth tremble, but just before reaching us I heard the command, "Right about!" and the line moved back behind their works.

The battalion of artillery, which we captured in running over their first line, was now turned on the Yankees in their second line. But our gunners shot too low, and grape and canister fell all over us wounded boys. At the first volley that fell among us I was on my hands and knees trying to crawl down the hill. A grapeshot glanced my left hand, rendering it useless for a long time. Finally I managed to crawl down to the creek and got right in it, leaving George Jones, and I never saw him any more till the war was over. While lying in the creek I looked back and saw General Archer coming over the hill; then the flags came in sight, then the bayonets, then the boys. My company came within ten steps of me. The first man to get to me was Maj. F. G. Buchanan, who pulled me out. On the line moved with its dreadful tread shaking the earth.

It was the last time I ever saw the lst Tennessee Regiment, soon I was carried by the litter bearers to the field hospital, where my wounds were dressed. In due course of time I was taken to the hospital in Richmond. My father went to Richmond for me and brought me home. After an eventful journey we reached home just as General Bragg was retreating from Tullahoma back to Chattanooga. I was unable for service for about eighteen months. In September, 1864, my father bought me a horse, and I joined the Forrest Escort Company, and the rest of my service in the cause of the Confederacy was with the "Wizard of the Saddle".

SOURCE: Confederate Veteran Magazine

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