The Battle of Chancellorsville was the most daring of all the brilliant victories of the Army of Northern Virginia. When Hooker crossed the Rappahannock and put himself directly on the left flank of Lee, the situation looked serious; but Jackson, acting under Lee's orders, went at Hooker with such startling vigor, that he pressed him back from the beautiful, open country into the gloomy wilderness around Chancellorsville. This was May 1, 1863. That night our brigade was formed in columns of companies by the right flank and ordered to charge. On account of the dense and almost impenetrable thicket, after moving some distance in this novel manner, amid the "zipping" of the Federal's Minie balls, we were halted, and returned. Next morning, the 2nd of May, we started at daybreak to make the ever-memorable flank movement.

Our division (A.P. Hill's) was not in the fight that day, but was held in reserve. After dark, our division was brought up, and formed the front line. Our brigade (Thomas's Georgia brigade) occupied the line to the left of the plank road, looking east toward Chancellorsville. My regiment had formed line of battle and we were expecting to make a night attack on the enemy, as he was in considerable confusion. Going to the plank road on some business, I was just in time to catch the full benefit of that fearful cannonade of the Federals, where, it is said, forty pieces of cannon were trained to sweep the plank road in order to check the victorious Confederates.

Everybody vacated the road, and lay flat on the ground. I did the same; and, while thus "hugging the ground", four litter bearers, carrying a wounded man, on account of that awful cannonading put the wounded man down so close to me that I could have touched him with my hand. I soon found it was "Stonewall" Jackson. He moaned frequently and piteously. When his friends proposed to move him out of the line of fire of the Federal batteries, he told them "not to mind him, but look out for themselves".

When the firing ceased, I returned to my company (K, 14th Georgia regiment), and spoke only to a few others about what I had seen and heard, for we feared it would dispirit our troops, who loved Jackson so well; but in a very short time everybody knew it. The night attack was abandoned; and, as we lay down within a hundred yards of the enemy's line, I could plainly hear them cutting trees and building breastworks. It was impossible for Jackson's men to sleep that night. Engulfed in the midst of that gloomy thicket, surrounded with so much suffering and death, with the mournful and continuous cry of the plaintive whippoorwill, made the scene inexpressibly sad, and to many the poor night-birds seemed to be piping the funeral notes of the Confederacy's death.

Next morning, the 3rd of May, the order came to "charge, and remember Jackson", given, it was said, by Gen. J.E.B. Stuart, who had taken command of Jackson's corps. A.P. Hill was also wounded.

Col. W.L. Goldsmith

Instead of Jackson' death casting a gloom and damper on the troops, it acted just the opposite. I never saw our soldiers act so much like insane demons; they moved forward utterly regardless of the blinding rain of bullets. The Federals fought with great bravery. My company was the first to gain the breastworks, and I was the second man across them. Here I first saw hand-to-hand fighting. A young Federal soldier came at me with fixed bayonet. With sword in my right hand, I knocked up his musket and grabbed it with my left hand. The tussle was a fearful one; but George Kelly, a sergeant in Company D, shot and broke the Federal's thigh. The poor fellow fell, but continued to fight game. I could have cleaved his head with my sword, and Kelly started to brain him with his clubbed musket; but I forbade it, and called on my brave enemy to surrender, or I would have him shot, which he did in broken English. He was a German, and a brave fellow, and elicited our hearty praise.

All this happened in a few seconds, and by this time fifty or a hundred men had crossed the breastworks of logs. These men I placed perpendicular to the works, and enfilading them both ways, which soon caused the Federals to vacate the entire works north of the plank road. Our brigade reformed and moved forward some two or three hundred yards, within sight of the Chancellorsville House, and held that advanced position until the battle ended.

This advanced position enabled Gen. J.E.B. Stuart to do the bravest act I ever saw. He led in person several batteries down the plank road, which was swept with the Federal artillery, and planted his guns on an eminence just to the right of the road, and in advance of the infantry line, just in his rear, and in a very short time after opening his guns the battle was won.  Several caissons were blown up as the artillery passed down the road, and men and horses were torn to pieces.

I mention the above to show how quickly the demon can be transformed to an angel of mercy. As soon as the Federals gave way all along their lines our army stacked arms, and, without a picket or skirmish line in front, gave our active attention to rescuing the poor fellows, whether in blue or gray, who were being burnt to death by the raging forest fires caused by the shells of both armies. Many of the dead and wounded were burnt to a crisp.

Our loss was heavy. Our major, who was wounded and dreadfully burned, died. Captain Harmon of Company G, was so burned that his friends could hardly recognize him. Captain Munger, with whom I slept that night, was killed. Water was very scarce, and we gave our scant supply wholly to the wounded of both armies. I gave my canteen of water to a wounded Federal. After all had been cared for, I slaked my raging thirst from a sluggish wet weather branch, in which lay three Federal corpses; the water was tinged with their blood. All enmity was broken down, and where pandemonium and destruction reigned a short time before, nothing but loving deeds of sweet mercy were now being enacted. Many a "God bless you!" rewarded our almost superhuman efforts to relieve suffering that awful day.