was sure he had gained a great victory, and yet he was not so sure.
I say he was not so sure, since he found it necessary, before
settling the question, to withdraw his army to his old quarters on
the other side of the river. It is clear that the general's
reflections would be less disturbed in his old quarters, and, with a
river separating him from the enemy, he could form a more correct
judgment as to whether he had beaten the enemy, or the enemy had
beaten him. Feeling, however, that it would not do to let it get out
that the enemy had beaten him, he resolved that it must be true that
he had beaten the enemy. This was about the most accommodating
settlement he could arrive at. But, accepting this in good faith, I
never could see the necessity for our haste to get back to our old
quarters on the hills, notwithstanding the general's friends said it
looked like rain, and he was anxious to get his army over before the
shower came on. I have noticed, also, that the rebel army, when
beaten, generally fell back in the direction of Richmond. In this
instance, however, he held his positions, beat his drums, blew his
horns, fluttered his flags, and was altogether the most defiant of
vanquished enemies. I noticed, also, that this vanquished enemy
packed his knapsacks, put his ammunition in order, and marched off,
not backwards, in the direction of Richmond, but forward, in the
direction of the North.

Yes, my son, the enemy marched defiantly into Pennsylvania, and sent
the peaceable Dutchmen in that remote part of the country into a
state of great alarm. And this I accept as the best proof that the
rebels were not beaten at Chancellorville. I am sure, also, that
General Hooker had sufficient reason to share this opinion with me.
He always had the rebels just where he wanted them, and yet I
observed that he failed to bring them to a stand before they got on