May 23 — Early this morning the Yanks advanced on us at the North Anna River. We put our guns into battery on the north side of the river and opened fire on the advancing cavalry; we held them in check for a few hours. We had two regiments of infantry supporting our position, and General Rosser’s brigade of cavalry was in front between us and the advancing enemy. But as the morning wore away toward the middle of the day the Yankee infantry advanced in force and fixed for business; then we fell back to the south side of the North Anna, and put our guns in battery on the southern heights in a good commanding position.
Where the Hanover Junction road crosses the North Anna the country is low and level on the Caroline or north side of the river, and on the Hanover side the land is much higher, and rises in bold bluff-like hills right from the river bank. On top of one of the hills we had our pieces in position, close to the river and not far from the ford. There are some old earthworks on the hills along the south side of the river; I suppose they were thrown up in the summer of 1862, when General McClellan tried his hand on Richmond.
The enemy in our front advanced to within about a mile and a quarter of our position and established a battle line along the edge of a woods, with their cavalry in front of the infantry line. We opened a slow and steady fire on their line and shelled it for a while, but when their line clung to the woods and did not advance usward any farther we ceased firing in order to save our ammunition for close work in case the enemy would have attempted to force the river.
After we ceased firing and were looking with uneasy anxiety every moment for the Yankee line to advance on us and attempt to ford the river, our cavalry in the meantime was busily engaged in clearing the decks for action, by tearing away fences and piling up rails in a sheltering breastwork fashion on the hills around us.
A spirit of disquieting uneasiness and subdued excitement seemed to prevail among officers and men as they gazed at the glittering line of the foe that was menacing us and ready to rush across the plain in our front at any moment and attempt to crush and wipe us out. To enhance the awe-inspiring grandeur of the martial scene and array, a flashlight of friendly relief gleamed across the threatening battle-cloud that was ready and throbbing to burst into battle’s fiery storm at any instant. Then I heard the beating drums sounding the alarming thrill of the long roll in General A. P. Hill’s camp, about a mile away in the direction of Hanover Junction, which meant “to the rescue” of the cavalry and horse artillery. After we had endured the nerve-trying suspense for an hour or so, and every man was standing at his post ready for the fray and to do or die, some one remarked: “Yonder comes a carriage across the field.” As it was an unusual occurrence to see a carriage drive on a field that was stripped ready for fight, I looked to the rear and saw a carriage with a single horseman riding behind it, coming right toward our position where we had our guns in battery. The carriage drove up close to our guns and stopped. When the door opened who should step out but our beloved and confidence-inspiring General Robert E. Lee, and the first glimpse of the grand old chieftain instilled new life and vigor into the whole command and dispersed the gloomy mist which was gathering around the star of Hope and lifted a burden of momentous anxiety that had settled along our line; I felt like a new man all over.
General Lee came right to where my gun was in position and leaned against a large pine tree not more than ten feet from my piece; he then, without the least sign of agitation, slowly drew his field glass from the case and carefully scanned the enemy’s battle line; he commenced the scrutinizing gaze at the right of their line on that part which was farthest up the river. After he swept from end to end with his glass he turned around and remarked to the horseman that accompanied him, “Orderly, go back and tell General A. P. Hill to leave his men in camp; this is nothing but a feint, the enemy is preparing to cross below.” Then he put his glass back in the case, got in his carriage and went back toward Hanover Junction. A single glance from the old warrior’s eye, like a flash of genius, instantly penetrated and fathomed the depths of the enemy’s design, for in less than ten minutes after he left his carriage he was back in it again and on his way to some other point lower down the river. As the day rolled by the developments of the enemy’s manipulations and maneuverings proved the infallibility of General Lee’s judgment and quick perception, for the enemy is now this evening crossing the North Anna below, just as he predicted, and the demonstration at the ford where we were was nothing but an extensive and well-planned feint.
We remained in position until nearly night, then we were relieved by a couple regiments of infantry and a battalion of artillery, and we moved back to Taylorsville, four miles due south of Hanover Junction, and camped. Taylorsville is composed of half-a-dozen houses situated on Little River and on the Richmond and Fredericksburg Railroad. Little River is a small stream between the North and South Anna, and empties into the North Anna. Weather hot and roads dusty.
