“At Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville he fought: 
Grim in disaster—­bravest in defeat,
He leaped not into danger without cause,
Nor shrunk he from it though a gulf of fire,
When duty bade him face it.  All his aim—­
To win the victory; applause and praise
He almost hated; grimly he endured
The fulsome flattery of his comrades nerved
By his calm courage up to manlier deeds.

“I saw him angered once—­if one might call
His sullen silence anger—­as by night
Across the Rappahannock, from the field
Where brave and gallant ‘Stonewall’ Jackson fell,
With hopeless hearts and heavy steps we marched. 
Such sullen wrath on other human face
I never saw in all those bloody years. 
One evening after, as he read to me
The fulsome General Order of our Chief—­
Congratulating officers and men
On their achievements in the late defeat—­
His handsome face grew rigid as he read,
And as he closed, down like a thunder-clap
Upon the mess-chest fell his clinched fist: 
‘Fit pap for fools!’ he said—­’an Iron Duke
Had ground the Southern legions into dust,
Or, by the gods!—­the field of Chancellorsville
Had furnished graves for ninety thousand men!’[B]

“That dark disaster sickened many a soul;
Stout hearts were sad and cowards cried for peace. 
The vulture, perched hard by the eagle’s crag,
Loud cawed his fellows from afar to feast. 
Ill-omened bird—­his carrion-cries were vain! 
Again our veteran eagles plumed their wings,
And forth he fled from Montezuma’s shores—­
A dastard flight—­betraying unto death
Him whom he dazzled with a bauble crown. 
Just retribution followed swift and sure—­
Germania’s eagles plucked him at Sedan. 
A gloomy month wore off, and then the news
That Lee, emboldened by his late success,
Had poured his legions upon Northern soil,
Rung through the camps, and thrilled the mighty heart
Of the Grand Army.  Louder than the roar
Of brazen cannon on the battle-field. 
Then rose and rolled our thunder-rounds of cheers.

[B] Hooker had 90,000 men at Chancellorsville.

We saw the dawn of victory—­we should meet
Our wary foe upon familiar soil. 
We cheered the news, we cheered the marching-orders,
We cheered our brave commander till the tears
Ran down his cheeks.  Up from its sullen gloom
Leaped the Grand Army, as if God had writ
With fiery finger ’thwart the vault of heaven
A solemn promise of swift victory.

“We marched.  As rolls the deep, resistless flood
Of Mississippi, when the rains of June
Have swelled his thousand northern fountain-lakes
Above their barriers—­rolls with restless roar,
Anon through rock-built gorges, and anon
Down through the prairied valley to the sea,
Gleaming and glittering in the summer sun,
By field and forest on his winding way,
So stretched and rolled the mighty column forth,