The bulk of the time devoted to
talking on this occasion was used in denunciation of the wretch--in
other words, myself--who alleged that Joseph Hooker was drunk at
Chancellorsville, or at any other time. This denunciation began with a
devout curse in the chaplain's prayer, culminated in a set of fierce
resolutions, and ended with the last after-dinner speech.
One thing particularly struck me. There was no one, of all who spoke,
who began to say as many things in favor of Joseph Hooker as I for years
have done; and not in fleeting words, but printed chapters. There was
plenty of eulogy, in nine-tenths of which I joined with all my heart.
But it was of the soldiers'-talk order,--cheering and honest and loyal,
appealing to the sentiments rather than the intelligence. What I have
said of Hooker has been solid praise of his soldierly worth, shown to be
borne out by the facts. Barring, in all I say, the five fighting days
at Chancellorsville, I have yet to find the man who has publicly,
and in print, eulogized Hooker as I have done; and no one among the
veterans gathered together Fast Day applauded with more sincerity than I,
all the tributes to his memory.
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