The account of the ride of William Tracy, for which he was awarded the Medal of honor. Source: Deeds of Valor, p. 164

Chancellorsville, VA
05/03/63

"SHOOT HIM!-KILL HIM!"

At the battle of Chancellorsville, Lieutenant William G. Tracy, 122nd U. S. Inf., was an aide-de-camp on the staff of Major-General Henry W. Slocum.

"When the Eleventh Corp was routed by the attack of 'Stonewall' Jackson," Lieutenant Tracy narrates: "I was sent with an order to bring back our troops across the plank road and stop the rebel advance, then about two miles distant. Riding forward, I struck the right brigade of Slocum's command, then under heavy fire, and, informing the brigadier, commanding, of my order, turned to the left and rear and plunged into the thick woods of the wilderness to find General Williams, commanding the division. In my haste and excitement, I soon lost my bearings; the firing in my vicinity ceased and I was completely lost.

"Riding hither and thither wherever I could see an opening, I finally came to a partial clearing of about fifty acres, where the trees had been cut into cord wood and piled up, leaving the stumps still standing. It was on the side of a hill, upon the top of which a piece of artillery was in action. Although it seemed to me to be pointed in a rather singular direction, I breasted the hill in good faith, stopped my horse about twenty feet from the piece and was about to enquire where General Williams was, when suddenly I discovered that the gunners were rebels.

"I was completely taken by surprise; my heart dropped to the bottom of my boots. 'Sent with an important order-lost in the woods and captured !' What a tale for my general! My first thought was to escape. I hastily surveyed my surroundings. An open, narrow road ran down the side of the hill and up another, the valley thus formed being heavily wooded. Upon the crest of the opposite hill was a blue line, which I knew to be our troops.

"In an instant my mind was made up and my heart seemed to come back with a thump to my breast. I resolved to ride down that narrow road to death or freedom. It was entirely open, being commanded by our troops. I walked my horse past the piece of artillery, gazing at the rebels as unconcernedly as I could. Although I was in uniform with shoulder straps, my blouse was covered with dust, and they did not spring for me, apparently not realizing that I was a Union officer. As soon as I passed, I struck into a gallop, not too fast to attract attention, yet ready for a burst of speed. In a moment I passed another piece of artillery and then came down to woods, at the edge of which some horses were tied.

"All this time I was making careful observations and realized that in all probability there was a large force of infantry at the foot of the hill before me-as artillery is never placed in advance of infantry-and the problem now became, how to reach the blue line of friends on the hill. Thus far I had proceeded, apparently without being recognized.

"Suddenly, just as I reached the border of the woods, some one cried out: ' Shoot him !' and I dug the spurs in and rode for my life. And how that brave horse did cover the ground! Down we went along the incline with no sign of a stumble, while I bent low over my pommel and fairly held my breath.

"Instantly, from both sides of the road came volleys of musketry, while all through the woods the shouts resounded: 'Shoot him! Kill him!' and both forces, aroused by the noise at that point, opened a heavy fire, so that I rode into our line amid a hailstorm of bullets. I was hit once and my right arm was fractured, but I was not thrown from my horse, which was wounded in three places.

"I afterwards learned that I had, in some way, blundered through both lines, and behind a brigade of the enemy, thrown in advance of their line, and that I rode through this brigade and passed the headquarters of the rebel general, A. P. Hill."