John Townsend Trowbridge,
The Atlantic Monthly
(1866)
“ The woods were full of Rebel graves, with here and there a heap of half-covered bones, where several of the dead had been hurriedly buried together. I had seen enough. We returned to the cemetery. Elijah hitched up his horse, and we drove back along the plank road, cheered by a rainbow which spanned the Wilderness and moved its bright arch onward over Chancellorsville towards Fredericksburg, brightening and fading, and brightening still again, like the hope which gladdened the nation's eye after Grant's victory. ”

