Sorrow has turned the troops into savages. This morning they are near the banks of the Rappahannock, fighting like demons. They have shed tears because of the mistake in firing on their own men. Now they are swearing, yelling, and charging the enemy in blind rage. I hope they don’t forget what the general taught them.
The moon was very bright early last evening when we were reconnoitering the enemy position.
In that grayish moonlight I am certain that I saw Black Demon. After I close this letter, I am going searching for Black Demon, and I hope to find that damn Yankee who seduced you, stole your horse, and deserted you. I promise that I will never make him a prisoner. My desire is to deliver a death-dealing blow to that Yankee cur with my own hands. If I find him, I will kill him or die in the act. I can’t believe you haven’t had any word from him since he escaped from the firing squad at Culpepper. I would have gladly pulled the trigger that morning, and if I find him now, I promise you that I will kill him and return Black Demon to you.
I fear for your safety at the Pines. You know that secession talk by Western Virginia is nearing conclusion, and with your outspoken sympathy for the South, it could place you in grave danger. I would feel better if you returned to Richmond.
I will keep you informed as to what I find out as to the condition of General Jackson.
Molly received her brother’s letter after she learned of General Jackson’s death. Some days later, she received another letter.
May 4, 1863
Near Chancellorsville, Virginia
Molly—my dearest:
I have wondered many, many times why I have never received a letter from you since that never-to-be-forgotten morning when we separated at the mansion near Culpepper.How can you ever forgive me? I know now that you feel that I deserted you. It was only yesterday that I learned that you had returned to the Pines. It was only yesterday that I learned that you have never received any of the numerous letters that I have written you and sent to Richmond. I know you never received my letter where I expressed my indebtedness to you for saving my life, enabling my escape. I owe you my life, and my love for you is endless as time itself. There is nothing I want more than for this dreadful war to end and my return to you so that I can show you for the rest of my life how much I do love you.
Last night, as I lay in my tent, I had a thousand thoughts on how to convey to you the dastardly thing that happened yesterday. The wounding of Jackson will be a stunning blow to your beloved South. I have to respect such an enemy as Stonewall. Even with the devastating havoc he rained on our troops, I have to admit he is a military genius, and our officers say he is greater than Napoleon.
Yesterday, in the early grayish evening, while scanning the enemy position through my field glasses, I saw the “praying general” and his escort slowly riding toward our right flank. There was Levi, up front with the general. My blood froze because my first inclination was to ride at full gallop and confront him to learn of your whereabouts and your well-being, but at that very moment our pickets started firing on Jackson and his escort. They whirled and retreated at full gallop, and as he neared his own encampment, I saw him slump forward in the saddle. I knew he was wounded.
I swore to myself that before another day ended, I would find Levi and make him talk. Yes, I vowed, “If I get my hands on him, I will make him tell me what happened to you. If he doesn’t talk, I will choke the hell out of that Rebel.”
I formed a plan. Soon after daylight, I took two of my men, and we cautiously rode toward the enemy lines, only to be fired upon at every turn and every point. I knew then that I would have to skirt their right flank and come in from their rear flank. So I rode back toward our own troops and then headed north to pick up the old turnpike by midafternoon. We came to a spot where we could see some distance up and down the old highway. We rode into a closed space just off the road, dismounted, and tied our horses under some low branches of a giant hemlock. The sky was threatening rain and had become very black, reducing our visibility of the highway to the south.
We had relaxed, opened our knapsacks, and had started partaking of some rations when we heard the cracking of limbs as something or someone made their way through the thicket toward the turnpike. We took our guns and crawled into a ditch that paralleled the road. We had barely made the ditch when a Confederate soldier, upon his horse, came crashing through the brush out into the highway. He stopped his horse, looked up and then down the turnpike. His steed stood very still, and you could tell he was listening to see if he had been discovered from all the noise he made coming through the thicket. He could see no one and slowly rode up the road toward us. Just before he reached the point in front of us, there was a click of hooves down the highway. He paused, turned, and looked backward just as four mounted Union scouts came into view. I motioned my men to advance toward him. He turned and at the same time urged his mount forward with a quick kick of his heel.
It was too late. I seized the reins at the same instant he kicked his mount for a speedy getaway. The horse reared, but I did not lose hold of the reins. Instantly I recognized Levi.
“Lieutenant, are you looking for me?” I calmly asked.
“Yes, I was looking for you, you damn wife deserter,” Levi barked back.
“Sorry, Lieutenant, those are my men coming there, and you are my prisoner,” I answered, as the Union scouts rode up.
There was some talk between the scouts as to what they were going to do with the prisoner. I informed them that Levi was an old friend of mine and he was my prisoner, not theirs.
“Levi, calm yourself and dismount” was my order. “You and I are going over here on that small knoll together and have a little talk.”
Levi alit as I gave an order to my men and the Union scouts. “Take the lieutenant’s horse. Tie him with ours, and you wait there until I signal for you. The lieutenant and I are going to the other side of the road upon that hill and have a quiet talk.”
The men proceeded to execute the order I had given them. Levi offered no resistance as we scrambled up the rather steep embankment on the opposite side of the turnpike, and under some low-hanging branches we seated ourselves upon a rock, facing each other. The silence seemed an eternity as neither of us chose to speak.
Finally, after the many things I thought I would say and do, I broke the silence by asking, “Well, Lieutenant, I suppose you have come to kill me.”
Without any hesitation, Levi answered, “Yes, Yates, that is exactly what I plan to do, you, you—you horse stealer, you seducer of innocent women, you—you damn wife deserter.”
“Levi, I’m a captain now, and I request your respect due an officer and a gentleman,” I advised.
“A gentleman you are not, and the captaincy is an ill-deserved honor, sir! And I will never recognize it either,” sarcastically blurted Levi.
“Address me as you like, but I advise you that you are a prisoner of Union troops,” I reminded him. “This time you are in my hands, and I could mete out the same treatment that you desired for me that night at Culpepper. Yes, Lieutenant! Perhaps you thought I was unconscious and did not hear your plan to kill me and do away with my body that night. That was an unmanly, weak, cowardly, and unmilitary plan you concocted that night. You would have carried it out if General Lee hadn’t surprised you.”