Chapter XXIV: CHANCELLORSVILLE (continued) (2)

“Chloroform was then administered, and the left arm amputated about two inches below the shoulder. Throughout the whole of the operation, and until all the dressings were applied, he continued insensible. About half-past three, Colonel (then Major) Pendleton arrived at the hospital. He stated that General Hill had been wounded, and that the troops were in great disorder. General Stuart was in command, and had sent him to see the general. At first I declined to permit an interview, but Pendleton urged that the safety of the army and success of the cause depended upon his seeing him. When he entered the tent the general said, ‘Well, Major, I am glad to see you; I thought you were killed.’ Pendleton briefly explained the position of affairs, gave Stuart’s message, and asked what should be done. Jackson was at once interested, and asked in his quick way several questions. When they were answered, he remained silent, evidently trying to think; he contracted his brow, set his mouth, and for some moments lay obviously endeavouring to concentrate his thoughts. For a moment we believed he had succeeded, for his nostrils dilated, and his eye flashed with its old fire, but it was only for a moment: his face relaxed again, and presently he answered, very feebly and sadly: ‘I don’t know—I can’t tell; say to General Stuart he must do what he thinks best.’ Soon after this he slept.”

So, leaving behind him, struggling vainly against the oppression of his mortal hurt, the one man who could have completed the Confederate victory, Pendleton rode wearily through the night. Jackson’s fall, at so critical a moment, just as the final blow was to be delivered, had proved a terrible disaster. Hill, who alone knew his intention of moving to the White House, had been wounded by a fragment of shell as he rode back to lead his troops. Boswell, who had been ordered to point out the road, had been killed by the same volley which struck down his chief, and the subordinate generals, without instructions and without guides, with their men in disorder, and the enemy’s artillery playing fiercely on the forest, had hesitated to advance. Hill, remaining in a litter near the line of battle, had sent for Stuart. The cavalry commander, however, was at some distance from the field. Late in the evening, finding it impossible to employ his command at the front, he had been detached by Jackson, a regiment of infantry supporting him, to take and hold Ely’s Ford. He had already arrived within view of a Federal camp established at that point, and was preparing to charge the enemy, under cover of the night, when Hill’s messenger recalled him.

When Stuart reached the front he found the troops still halted, Rodes and Colston reforming on the open fields near Dowdall’s Tavern, the Light Division deployed within the forest, and the generals anxious for their own security.

So far the attack had been completely successful, but Lee’s lack of strength prevented the full accomplishment of his design. Had Longstreet been present, with Pickett and Hood to lead his splendid infantry, the Third Corps and the Twelfth would have been so hardly pressed that Chancellorsville, Hazel Grove, and the White House would have fallen an easy prize to Jackson’s bayonets. Anderson, with four small brigades, was powerless to hold the force confronting him, and marching rapidly northwards, Sickles had reached Hazel Grove before Jackson fell. Here Pleasonton, with his batteries, was still in position, and Hooker had not yet lost his head. As soon as Birney’s and Whipple’s divisions had come up, forming in columns of brigades behind the guns, Sickles was ordered to assail the enemy’s right flank and check his advance. Just before midnight the attack was made, in two lines of battle, supported by strong columns. The night was very clear and still; the moon, nearly full, threw enough light into the woods to facilitate the advance, and the tracks leading north-west served as lines of direction.

The attack, however, although gallantly made, gained no material advantage. The preliminary movements were plainly audible to the Confederates, and Lane’s brigade, most of which was now south of the plank road, had made every preparation to receive it. Against troops lying down in the woods the Federal artillery, although fifty or sixty guns were in action, made but small impression; and the dangers of a night attack, made upon troops who are expecting it, and whose _moral_ is unaffected, were forcibly illustrated. The confusion in the forest was very great; a portion of the assailing force, losing direction, fell foul of Berry’s division at the foot of the Fairview heights, which had not been informed of the movement, and at least two regiments, fired into from front and rear, broke up in panic. Some part of the log breastworks which Jackson’s advanced line had occupied were recaptured; but not a single one of the assailants, except as prisoners, reached the plank road. And yet the attack was an exceedingly well-timed stroke, and as such, although the losses were heavy, had a very considerable effect on the issue of the day’s fighting. It showed, or seemed to show, that the Federals were still in good heart, that they were rapidly concentrating, and that the Confederates might be met by vigorous counter-strokes. “The fact,” said Stuart in his official dispatch, “that the attack was made, and at night, made me apprehensive of a repetition of it.”

So, while Jackson slept through the hours of darkness that should have seen the consummation of his enterprise, his soldiers lay beside their arms; and the Federals, digging, felling, and building, constructed a new line of parapet, protected by abattis, and strengthened by a long array of guns, on the slopes of Fairview and Hazel Grove. The respite which the fall of the Confederate leader had brought them was not neglected; the fast-spreading panic was stayed; the First Army Corps, rapidly crossing the Rappahannock, secured the road to the White House, and Averell’s division of cavalry reached Ely’s Ford.

May 3 On the left, between Chancellorsville and the river, where a young Federal colonel, named Miles,[8] handled his troops with conspicuous skill, Lee’s continuous attacks had been successfully repulsed, and at dawn on the morning of May 3 the situation of the Union army was far from unpromising. A gap of nearly two miles intervened between the Confederate wings, and within this gap, on the commanding heights of Hazel Grove and Fairview, the Federals were strongly intrenched. An opportunity for dealing a crushing counterblow—for holding one portion of Lee’s army in check while the other was overwhelmed—appeared to present itself. The only question was whether the _moral_ of the general and the men could be depended upon.

In Stuart, however, Hooker had to deal with a soldier who was no unworthy successor of Stonewall Jackson. Reluctantly abandoning the idea of a night attack, the cavalry general, fully alive to the exigencies of the situation, had determined to reduce the interval between himself and Lee; and during the night the artillery was brought up to the front, and the batteries deployed wherever they could find room. Just before the darkness began to lift, orders were received from Lee that the assault was to be made as early as possible; and the right wing, swinging round in order to come abreast of the centre, became hotly engaged. Away to the south-east, across the hills held by the Federals, came the responding thunder of Lee’s guns; and 40,000 infantry, advancing through the woods against front and flank, enveloped in a circle of fire a stronghold which was held by over 60,000 muskets.

It is unnecessary to describe minutely the events of the morning. The Federal troops, such as were brought into action, fought well; but Jackson’s tremendous attack had already defeated Hooker. Before Sickles made his night attack from Hazel Grove he had sent orders for Sedgwick to move at once, occupy Fredericksburg, seize the heights, and march westward by the plank road; and, at the same time, he had instructed his engineers to select and fortify a position about a mile in rear of Chancellorsville. So, when Stuart pressed forward, not only had this new position been occupied by the First and Fifth Army Corps, but the troops hitherto in possession of Hazel Grove were already evacuating their intrenchments.

These dispositions sufficiently attest the demoralisation of the Federal commander. As the historian of the Army of the Potomac puts it: “The movement to be executed by Sedgwick was precisely one of those movements which, according as they are wrought out, may be either the height of wisdom or the height of folly. Its successful accomplishment certainly promised very brilliant results. It is easy to see how seriously Lee’s safety would be compromised if, while engaged with Hooker in front, he should suddenly find a powerful force assailing his rear, and grasping already his direct line of communication with Richmond. But if, on the other hand, Lee should be able by any slackness on the part of his opponent to engage him in front with a part of his force, while he should turn swiftly round to assail the isolated moving column, it is obvious that he would be able to repulse or destroy that column, and then by a vigorous return, meet or attack his antagonist’s main body. In the successful execution of this plan not only was Sedgwick bound to the most energetic action, but Hooker also was engaged by every consideration of honour and duty to so act as to make the dangerous task he had assigned to Sedgwick possible.”[9]

But so far from aiding his subordinate by a heavy counter-attack on Lee’s front, Hooker deliberately abandoned the Hazel Grove salient, which, keeping asunder the Confederate wings, strongly facilitated such a manœuvre; and more than this, he divided his own army into two portions, of which the rear, occupying the new position, was actually forbidden to reinforce the front.

It is possible that Hooker contemplated an early retreat of his whole force to the second position. If so, Lee and Stuart were too quick for him. The cavalry commander, as soon as it became light, and the hills and undulations of the Wilderness emerged from the shadows, immediately recognised the importance of Hazel Grove. The hill was quickly seized; thirty pieces of artillery, established on the crest, enfiladed the Federal batteries, facing west, on the heights of Fairview; and the brigade on Stuart’s extreme right was soon in touch with the troops directed by General Lee. Then against the three sides of the Federal position the battle raged. From the south and south-east came Anderson and McLaws, the batteries unlimbering on every eminence, and the infantry, hitherto held back, attacking with the vigour which their gallant commanders knew so well how to inspire. And from the west, formed in three lines, Hill’s division to the front, came the Second Army Corps. The men knew by this time that the leader whom they trusted beyond all others had been struck down, that he was lying wounded, helpless, far away in rear. Yet his spirit was still with them. Stuart, galloping along the ranks, recalled him with ringing words to their memories, and as the bugles sounded the onset, it was with a cry of “Remember Jackson!” that his soldiers rushed fiercely upon the Federal breastworks.

The advanced line, within the forest, was taken at the first rush; the second, at the foot of the Fairview heights, protected by a swampy stream, a broad belt of abattis, and with thirty guns on the hill behind, proved far more formidable, and Hill’s division was forced back. But Rodes and Colston were in close support. The fight was speedily renewed; and then came charge and counter-charge; the storm of the parapets; the rally of the defenders; the rush with the bayonet; and, mowing down men like grass, the fearful sweep of case and canister. Twice the Confederates were repulsed. Twice they reformed, brigade mingled with brigade, regiment with regiment, and charged again in the teeth of the thirty guns.

On both sides ammunition began to fail; the brushwood took fire, the ground became hot beneath the foot, and many wounded perished miserably in the flames. Yet still, with the tangled abattis dividing the opposing lines, the fight went on; both sides struggling fiercely, the Federals with the advantage of position, the Confederates of numbers, for Hooker refused to reinforce his gallant troops. At length the guns which Stuart had established on Hazel Grove, crossing their fire with those of McLaws and Anderson, gained the upper hand over the Union batteries. The storm of shell, sweeping the Fairview plateau, took the breastworks in reverse; the Northern infantry, after five hours of such hot battle as few fields have witnessed, began sullenly to yield, and as Stuart, leading the last charge, leapt his horse over the parapet, the works were evacuated, and the tattered colours of the Confederates waved in triumph on the hill.

“The scene,” says a staff-officer, “can never be effaced from the minds of those that witnessed it. The troops were pressing forward with all the ardour and enthusiasm of combat. The white smoke of musketry fringed the front of battle, while the artillery on the hills in rear shook the earth with its thunder and filled the air with the wild shrieking of the shells that plunged into the masses of the retreating foe. To add greater horror and sublimity to the scene, the Chancellorsville House and the woods surrounding it were wrapped in flames. It was then that General Lee rode to the front of his advancing battalions. His presence was the signal for one of those uncontrollable outbursts of enthusiasm which none can appreciate who have not witnessed them.

“The fierce soldiers, with their faces blackened with the smoke of battle, the wounded, crawling with feeble limbs from the fury of the devouring flames, all seemed possessed of a common impulse. One long, unbroken cheer, in which the feeble cry of those who lay helpless on the earth blended with the strong voices of those who still fought, hailed the presence of the victorious chief.

“His first care was for the wounded of both armies, and he was among the foremost at the burning mansion, where some of them lay. But at that moment, when the transports of his troops were drowning the roar of battle with acclamations, a note was brought to him from General Jackson. It was handed to him as he sat on his horse near the Chancellorsville House, and unable to open it with his gauntleted hands, he passed it to me with directions to read it to him. I shall never forget the look of pain and anguish that passed over his face as he listened. In a voice broken with emotion he bade me say to General Jackson that the victory was his. I do not know how others may regard this incident, but for myself, as I gave expression to the thoughts of his exalted mind, I forgot the genius that won the day in my reverence for the generosity that refused its glory.”

Lee’s reply ran:—

“General,—I have just received your note, informing me that you were wounded. I cannot express my regret at the occurrence. Could I have directed events, I should have chosen for the good of the country to be disabled in your stead.

“I congratulate you upon the victory, which is due to your skill and energy.

“Very respectfully, your obedient servant, R. E. LEE, _General._”

Such was the tribute, not the less valued that it was couched in no exaggerated terms, which was brought to the bedside in the quiet hospital. Jackson was almost alone. As the sound of cannon and musketry, borne across the forest, grew gradually louder, he had ordered all those who had remained with him, except Mr. Smith, to return to the battle-field and attend to their different duties.

His side, injured by his fall from the litter, gave him much pain, but his thoughts were still clear, and his speech coherent. “General Lee,” he said, when his aide-de-camp read to him the Commander-in-Chief’s brief words, “is very kind, but he should give the praise to God.”

During the day the pain gradually ceased; the general grew brighter, and from those who visited the hospital he inquired minutely about the battle and the troops engaged. When conspicuous instances of courage were related his face lit up with enthusiasm, and he uttered his usual “Good, good,” with unwonted energy when the gallant behaviour of his old command was alluded to. “Some day,” he said, “the men of that brigade will be proud to say to their children, ‘I was one of the Stonewall Brigade.’ He disclaimed all right of his own to the name Stonewall: ‘It belongs to the brigade and not to me.’ That night he slept well, and was free from pain.

Meanwhile the Confederate army, resting on the heights of Chancellorsville, preparatory to an attack upon Hooker’s second stronghold, had received untoward news. Sedgwick, at eleven o’clock in the morning, had carried Marye’s Hill, and, driving Early before him, was moving up the plank road. Wilcox’ brigade of Anderson’s division, then at Banks’ Ford, was ordered to retard the advance of the hostile column. McLaws was detached to Salem Church. The Second Army Corps and the rest of Anderson’s division remained to hold Hooker in check, and for the moment operations at Chancellorsville were suspended.

McLaws, deploying his troops in the forest, two hundred and fifty yards from a wide expanse of cleared ground, pushed his skirmishers forward to the edge, and awaited the attack of a superior force. Reserving his fire to close quarters, its effect was fearful. But the Federals pushed forward; a school-house occupied as an advanced post was captured, and at this point Sedgwick was within an ace of breaking through. His second line, however, had not yet deployed, and a vigorous counterstroke, delivered by two brigades, drove back the whole of his leading division in great disorder. As night fell the Confederates, careful not to expose themselves to the Union reserves, retired to the forest, and Sedgwick, like Hooker, abandoned all further idea of offensive action.

May 4 The next morning Lee himself, with the three remaining brigades of Anderson, arrived upon the scene. Sedgwick, who had lost 5,000 men the preceding day, May had fortified a position covering Banks’ Ford, and occupied it with over 20,000 muskets. Lee, with the divisions of McLaws, Anderson, and Early, was slightly stronger. The attack was delayed, for the Federals held strong ground, difficult to reconnoitre; but once begun the issue was soon decided. Assailed in front and flanks, with no help coming from Hooker, and only a single bridge at Banks’ Ford in rear, the Federals rapidly gave ground.

Darkness, however, intensified by a thick fog, made pursuit difficult, and Sedgwick re-crossed the river with many casualties but in good order. During these operations, that is, from four o’clock on Sunday afternoon until after midnight on Monday, Hooker had not moved a single man to his subordinate’s assistance.[10] So extraordinary a situation has seldom been seen in war: an army of 60,000 men, strongly fortified, was held in check for six-and-thirty hours by 20,000; while not seven miles away raged a battle on which the whole fate of the campaign depended.

Lee and Jackson had made no false estimate of Hooker’s incapacity. Sedgwick’s army corps had suffered so severely in men and in _moral_ that it was not available for immediate service, even had it been transferred to Chancellorsville; and Lee was now free to concentrate his whole force against the main body of the Federal army. His men, notwithstanding their extraordinary exertions, were confident of victory.

May 5 “As I sheltered myself,” says an eye-witness, “in a little farmhouse on the plank road the brigades of Anderson’s division came splashing through the mud, in wild tumultuous spirits, singing, shouting, jesting, heedless of soaking rags, drenched to the skin, and burning again to mingle in the mad revelry of battle.”[11] But it was impossible to push forward, for a violent rain-storm burst upon the Wilderness, and the spongy soil, saturated with the deluge, absolutely precluded all movement across country. Hooker, who had already made preparations for retreat, took advantage of the weather, and as soon as darkness set in put his army in motion for the bridges.

May 6 By eight o’clock on the morning of the 6th the whole force had crossed; and when the Confederate patrols pushed forward, Lee found that his victim had escaped.

The Army of the Potomac returned to its old camp on the hills above Fredericksburg, and Lee reoccupied his position on the opposite ridge. Stoneman, who had scoured the whole country to within a few miles of Richmond, returned to Kelly’s Ford on May 8. The raid had effected nothing. The damage done to the railroads and canals was repaired by the time the raiders had regained the Rappahannock. Lee’s operations at Chancellorsville had not been affected in the very slightest degree by their presence in his rear, while Stoneman’s absence had proved the ruin of the Federal army. Jackson, who had been removed by the Commander-in-Chief’s order to Mr. Chandler’s house, near Gurney’s Station, on the morning of May 5, was asked what he thought of Hooker’s plan of campaign. His reply was: “It was in the main a good conception, an excellent plan. But he should not have sent away his cavalry; that was his great blunder. It was that which enabled me to turn him without his being aware of it, and to take him in the rear. Had he kept his cavalry with him, his plan would have been a very good one.” This was not his only comment on the great battle. Among other things, he said that he intended to cut the Federals off from the United States Ford, and, taking a position between them and the river, oblige them to attack him, adding, with a smile, “My men sometimes fail to drive the enemy from a position, but they always fail to drive us away.” He spoke of General Rodes, and alluded in high terms to his splendid behaviour in the attack on Howard. He hoped he would be promoted, and he said that promotion should be made at once, upon the field, so as to act as an incentive to gallantry in others. He spoke of Colonel Willis, who had commanded the skirmishers, and praised him very highly, and referred most feelingly to the death of Paxton, the commander of the Stonewall Brigade, and of Captain Boswell, his chief engineer. In speaking of his own share in the victory he said: “Our movement was a great success; I think the most successful military movement of my life. But I expect to receive far more credit for it than I deserve. Most men will think I planned it all from the first; but it was not so. I simply took advantage of circumstances as they were presented to me in the providence of God. I feel that His hand led me—let us give Him the glory.”

It must always be an interesting matter of speculation what the result would have been had Jackson accomplished his design, on the night he fell, of moving a large part of his command up the White House road, and barring the only line of retreat left open to the Federals.

Hooker, it is argued, had two corps in position which had been hardly engaged, the Second and the Fifth; and another, the First, under Reynolds, was coming up. Of these, 25,000 men might possibly, could they have been manœuvred in the forest, have been sent to drive Jackson back. And, undoubtedly, to those who think more of numbers than of human nature, of the momentum of the mass rather than the mental equilibrium of the general, the fact that a superior force of comparatively fresh troops was at Hooker’s disposal will be sufficient to put the success of the Confederates out of court. Yet the question will always suggest itself, would not the report that a victorious enemy, of unknown strength, was pressing forward, in the darkness of the night, towards the only line of retreat, have so demoralised the Federal commander and the Federal soldiers, already shaken by the overthrow of the Eleventh Army Corps, that they would have thought only of securing their own safety? Would Hooker, whose tactics the next day, after he had had the night given him in which to recover his senses, were so inadequate, have done better if he had received no respite? Would the soldiers of the three army corps not yet engaged, who had been witnesses of the rout of Howard’s divisions, have fared better, when they heard the triumphant yells of the advancing Confederates, than the hapless Germans? “The wounding of Jackson,” says a most careful historian of the battle, himself a participator in the Union disaster, was a most fortunate circumstance for the Army of the Potomac. At nine o’clock the capture or destruction of a large part of the army seemed inevitable. There was, at the time, great uncertainty and a feeling akin to panic prevailing among the Union forces round Chancellorsville; and when we consider the position of the troops at this moment, and how many important battles have been won by trivial flank attacks—how Richepanse (attacking through the forest) with a single brigade ruined the Austrians at Hohenlinden—we must admit that the Northern army was in great peril when Jackson arrived within one thousand yards of its vital point (the White House) with 20,000 men and 50 cannon.”[12] He must be a great leader indeed who, when his flank is suddenly rolled up and his line of retreat threatened, preserves sufficient coolness to devise a general counterstroke. Jackson had proved himself equal to such a situation at Cedar Run, but it is seldom in these circumstances that Providence sides with the “big battalions.”

The Federal losses in the six days’ battles were heavy: over 12,000 at Chancellorsville, and 4,700 at Fredericksburg, Salem Church, and Banks’ Ford; a total of 17,287. The army lost 13 guns, and nearly 6,000 officers and men were reported either captured or missing.

The casualties were distributed as follows:—

First Army Corps Second Army Corps Third Army Corps Fifth Army Corps Sixth Army Corps Eleventh Army Corps Twelfth Army Corps Pleasonton’s Cavalry Brigade 135 1,925 4,119 700 4,590 2,412 2,822 141 ——— 16,844

The Confederate losses were hardly less severe. The killed and wounded were as under:—

SECOND ARMY CORPS

A. P. Hill’s Division Rodes” Division Colston’s Division Early’s Division Anderson’s Division McLaws” Division Artillery Cavalry Prisoners (estimated) 2,583 2,178 1,868 851 1,180 1,379 227 11 2,000 ——— 12,227

But a mere statement of the casualties by no means represents the comparative loss of the opposing forces. Victory does not consist in merely killing and maiming a few thousand men. This is the visible result; it is the invisible that tells. The Army of the Potomac, when it retreated across the Rappahannock, was far stronger in mere numbers than the Army of Northern Virginia; but in reality it was far weaker, for the moral of the survivors, and of the general who led them, was terribly affected. That of the Confederates, on the other hand, had been sensibly elevated, and it is moral, not numbers, which is the strength of armies. What, after all, was the loss of 12,200 soldiers to the Confederacy? In that first week of May there were probably 20,000 conscripts in different camps of instruction, more than enough to recruit the depleted regiments to full strength. Nor did the slaughter of Chancellorsville diminish to any appreciable degree the vast hosts of the Union.

And yet the Army of the Potomac had lost more than all the efforts of the Government could replace. The Army of Virginia, on the other hand, had acquired a superiority of spirit which was ample compensation for the sacrifice which had been made. It is hardly too much to say that Lee’s force had gained from the victory an increase of strength equivalent to a whole army corps of 80,000 men, while that of his opponent had been proportionately diminished. Why, then, was there no pursuit?

It has been asserted that Lee was so crippled by his losses at Chancellorsville that he was unable to resume operations against Hooker for a whole month. This explanation of his inactivity can hardly be accepted.

Illustration: The Battlefields of Chancellorsville, Salem Church and Fredericksburg, May 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 1862. For larger view click on image.

On June 16 and 18, 1815, at Quatre-Bras and Waterloo, the Anglo-Dutch army, little larger than that of Northern Virginia, lost 17,000 men; and yet on the 19th Wellington was marching in pursuit of the French; nor did he halt until he arrived within sight of Paris. And on August 28, 29, and 30, 1862, at Groveton and the Second Manassas, Stonewall Jackson lost 4,000 officers and men, one-fifth of his force, but he was not left in rear when Lee invaded Maryland. Moreover, after he had defeated Sedgwick, on the same night that Hooker was recrossing the Rappahannock, Lee was planning a final attack on the Federal intrenchments, and his disappointment was bitter when he learned that his enemy had escaped. If his men were capable of further efforts on the night of May 5, they were capable of them the next day; and it was neither the ravages of battle nor the disorganisation of the army that held the Confederates fast, but the deficiency of supplies, the damage done to the railways by Stoneman’s horsemen, the weakness of the cavalry, and, principally, the hesitation of the Government. After the victory of Chancellorsville, strong hopes of peace were entertained in the South. Before Hooker advanced, a large section of the Northern Democrats, despairing of ultimate success, had once more raised the cry that immediate separation was better, than a hopeless contest, involving such awful sacrifices, and it needed all Lincoln’s strength to stem the tide of disaffection. The existence of this despondent feeling was well known to the Southern statesmen; and to such an extent did they count upon its growth and increase that they had overlooked altogether the importance of improving a victory, should the army be successful; so now, when the chance had come, they were neither ready to forward such an enterprise, nor could they make up their minds to depart from their passive attitude. But to postpone all idea of counterstroke until some indefinite period is as fatal in strategy as in tactics. By no means an uncommon policy, it has been responsible for the loss of a thousand opportunities.

Had not politics intervened, a vigorous pursuit—not necessarily involving an immediate attack, but drawing Hooker, as Pope had been drawn in the preceding August, into an unfavourable situation, before his army had had time to recover—would have probably been initiated. It may be questioned, however, whether General Lee, even when Longstreet and his divisions joined him, would have been so strong as he had been at the end of April. None felt more deeply than the Commander-in-Chief that the absence of Jackson was an irreparable misfortune. “Give him my affectionate regards,” he said to an aide-de-camp who was riding to the hospital; “tell him to make haste and get well, and come back to me as soon as he can. He has lost his left arm, but I have lost my right.” “Any victory,” he wrote privately, “would be dear at such a price. I know not how to replace him.”

His words were prophetic. Exactly two months after Chancellorsville the armies met once more in the clash of battle. During the first two days, on the rolling plain round Gettysburg, a village of Pennsylvania, four Federal army corps were beaten in succession, but ere the sun set on the third Lee had to admit defeat.

And yet his soldiers had displayed the same fiery courage and stubborn persistence which had carried them victorious through the Wilderness. But his “right arm” had not yet been replaced. “If,” he said after the war, with unaccustomed emphasis, “I had had Jackson at Gettysburg I should have won the battle, and a complete victory there would have resulted in the establishment of Southern independence.”

It was not to be. Chancellorsville, where 130,000 men were defeated by 60,000, is up to a certain point as much the tactical masterpiece of the nineteenth century as was Leuthen of the eighteenth. But, splendid triumph as it was, the battle bore no abiding fruits, and the reason seems very clear. The voice that would have urged pursuit was silent. Jackson’s fall left Lee alone, bereft of his alter ego; with none, save Stuart, to whom he could entrust the execution of those daring and delicate manœuvres his inferior numbers rendered necessary; with none on whose resource and energy he could implicitly rely. Who shall say how far his own resolution had been animated and confirmed at other crises by the prompting and presence of the kindred spirit? “They supplemented each other,” said Davis, “and together, with any fair opportunity, they were absolutely invincible.”

Many a fierce battle still lay before the Army of Northern Virginia; marvellous was the skill and audacity with which Lee manœuvred his ragged regiments in the face of overwhelming odds; fierce and unyielding were the soldiers, but with Stonewall Jackson’s death the impulse of victory died away.

May 7 It is needless to linger over the closing scene at Gurney’s Station. For some days there was hope that the patient would recover; pneumonia, attributed to his fall from the litter as he was borne from the field, supervened, and he gradually began to sink. On the Thursday his wife and child arrived from Richmond; but he was then almost too weak for conversation, and on Sunday morning it was evident that the end was near.

May 10 As yet he had scarcely realised his condition. If, he said, it was God’s will, he was ready to go, but he believed that there was still work for him to do, and that his life would be preserved to do it. At eleven o’clock Mrs. Jackson knelt by his side, and told him that he could not live beyond the evening. “You are frightened, my child,” he replied, “death is not so near; I may yet get well.” She fell upon the bed, weeping bitterly, and told him again that there was no hope. After a moment’s pause, he asked her to call Dr. McGuire. “Doctor,” he said, “Anna tells me I am to die to-day; is it so?” When he was answered, he remained silent for a moment or two, as if in intense thought, and then quietly replied, “Very good, very good; it is all right.”

About noon, when Major Pendleton came into the room, he asked, “Who is preaching at headquarters to-day?” He was told that Mr. Lacy was, and that the whole army was praying for him. “Thank God,” he said; “they are very kind to me.” Already his strength was fast ebbing, and although his face brightened when his baby was brought to him, his mind had begun to wander. Now he was on the battle-field, giving orders to his men; now at home in Lexington; now at prayers in the camp, Occasionally his senses came back to him, and about half-past one he was told that he had but two hours to live. Again he answered, feebly but firmly, “Very good; it is all right. These were almost his last coherent words. For some time he lay unconscious, and then suddenly he cried out: “Order A.P. Hill to prepare for action! Pass the infantry to the front! Tell Major Hawks “then stopped, leaving the sentence unfinished. Once more he was silent; but a little while after he said very quietly and clearly, “Let us cross over the river, and rest under the shade of the trees,” and the soul of the great captain passed into the peace of God.

NOTE I

[From General Lee’s letter-book.]

Lexington, Virginia, 25th January, 1866.

MRS. T. J. JACKSON:—

MY DEAR MRS. JACKSON,—Dr. Brown handed me your note of the 9th, when in Richmond on business connected with Washington College. I have delayed replying since my return, hoping to have sufficient time to comply with your request. Last night I received a note from Mrs. Brown, enclosing one from Dr. Dabney, stating that the immediate return of his manuscript was necessary. I have not been able to open it; and when I read it when you were here, it was for the pleasure of the narrative, with no view of remark or correction; and I took no memoranda of what seemed to be errors. I have not thought of them since, and do not know that I can now recall them; and certainly have no desire that my opinions should be adopted in preference to Dr. Dabney’s. . . . I am, however, unable at this time to specify the battles to which my remark particularly refers. The opinion of General Jackson, in reference to the propriety of attacking the Federal army under General McClellan at Harrison’s Landing, is not, I think, correctly stated. Upon my arrival there, the day after General Longstreet and himself, I was disappointed that no opportunity for striking General McClellan, on the retreat, or in his then position, had occurred, and went forward with General Jackson alone, on foot; and after a careful reconnaissance of the whole line and position, he certainly stated to me, at that time, the impropriety of attacking. I am misrepresented at the battle of Chancellorsville in proposing an attack in front, the first evening of our arrival. On the contrary, I decided against it, and stated to General Jackson, we must attack on our left as soon as practicable; and the necessary movement of the troops began immediately. In consequence of a report received about that time, from General Fitzhugh Lee, describing the position of the Federal army, and the roads which he held with his cavalry leading to its rear, General Jackson, after some inquiry concerning the roads leading to the Furnace, undertook to throw his command entirely in Hooker’s rear, which he accomplished with equal skill and boldness; the rest of the army being moved to the left flank to connect with him as he advanced. I think there is some mistake, too, of a regiment of infantry being sent by him to the ford on the Rapidan, as described by Dr. Dabney. The cavalry was ordered to make such a demonstration. General Stuart had proceeded to that part of the field to co-operate in General Jackson’s movement, and I always supposed it was his dismounted cavalry. As well as I now recollect, something is said by Dr. Dabney as to General Jackson’s opinion as to the propriety of delivering battle at Sharpsburg. When he came upon the field, having preceded his troops, and learned my reasons for offering battle, he emphatically concurred with me. When I determined to withdraw across the Potomac, he also concurred; but said then, in view of all the circumstances, it was better to have fought the battle in Maryland than to have left it without a struggle. After crossing the Potomac, General Jackson was charged with the command of the rear, and he designated the brigades of infantry to support Pendleton’s batteries. I believed General McClellan had been so crippled at Sharpsburg that he could not follow the Confederate army into Virginia immediately; but General Stuart was ordered, after crossing the Potomac, to recross at once at Williamsport, threaten his right flank, and observe his movements. Near daylight the next, morning, General Pendleton reported to me the occurrence at Shepherdstown the previous evening, and stated that he had made a similar report to General Jackson, who was lying near me on the same field. From his statement, I thought it possible that the Federal army might be attempting to follow us; and I sent at once to General Jackson to say that, in that event, I would attack it; that he must return with his whole command if necessary; that I had sent to Longstreet to countermarch the rest of the army; and that upon his joining me, unless I heard from him to the contrary, I should move with it to his support. General Jackson went back with Hill’s division, General Pendleton accompanying him, and soon drove the Federals into Maryland with loss. His report, which I received on my way towards the river, relieved my anxiety, and the order of the march of the troops was again resumed. I have endeavoured to be as brief as possible in my statement, and with the single object of calling Dr. Dabney’s attention to the points referred to, that he may satisfy himself as to the correctness of his own statements; and this has been done solely in compliance with your request. Other points may have attracted my attention in the perusal of the narrative; but I cannot now recall them, and do not know that those which have occurred to me are of importance. I wish I could do anything to give real assistance, for I am very anxious that his work should be perfect.

With feelings of great esteem and regard, I am,

Very truly yours, (Signed) R. E. LEE.

The production of this letter is due to the kindness of Dr. Henry A. White, and of R. E. Lee, Esquire, of Washington, youngest son of General Lee.

NOTE II

The following details, communicated to the author by one of Lee’s generals, as to the formations of the Confederate infantry, will be found interesting:—

“Our brigades were usually formed of four or five regiments, each regiment composed of ten companies. Troops furnished by the same State were, as far as possible, brigaded together, in order to stimulate State pride, and a spirit of healthy emulation.

“The regiment was formed for attack in line two-deep, covered by skirmishers.

“The number of skirmishers, and the intervals between the men on the skirmish line, depended altogether on the situation. Sometimes two companies were extended as skirmishers; sometimes one company; sometimes a certain number of men from several companies. In rear of the skirmishers, at a distance ranging from three hundred to one hundred and fifty paces, came the remainder of the regiment.

“When a regiment or a brigade advanced through a heavily wooded country, such as the Wilderness, the point of direction was established, and the officers instructed to conform to the movements of the ‘guide company’ or ‘guide regiment’ as the case might be, the ‘guide’ company or regiment governing both direction and alignment.

“The maintenance of direction under such circumstances was a very difficult matter. Our officers, however, were greatly assisted by the rank and file, as many of the latter were accomplished woodsmen, and accustomed to hunt and shoot in the dense forests of the South. Each regiment, moreover, was provided with a right and a left ‘general guide,’ men selected for their special aptitudes, being good judges of distance, and noted for their steadiness and skill in maintaining the direction.

“Then, again, the line of battle was greatly aided in maintaining the direction by the fire of the skirmishers, and frequently the line would be formed with a flank resting on a trail or woods-road, a ravine or watercourse, the flank regiment in such cases acting as the guide: (at Chancellorsville, Jackson’s divisions kept direction by the turnpike, both wings looking to the centre.) In advancing through thick woods the skirmish line was almost invariably strengthened, and while the ‘line of battle,’ covered by the skirmishers, advanced in two-deep line, bodies in rear usually marched in columns of fours, prepared to come, by a ‘forward into line,’ to the point where their assistance might be desired. I never saw the compass used in wood-fighting. In all movements to attack it was the universal custom for the brigade commander to assemble both field and company officers to the ‘front and centre,’ and instruct them particularly as to the purpose of the movement, the method in which it was to be carried out, the point of direction, the guide regiment, the position of other brigades, etc., etc. Like action was also taken by the regimental commander when a regiment was alone.

“This precaution, I venture to think, is absolutely indispensable to an orderly and combined advance over any ground whatever, and, so far as my knowledge goes, was seldom omitted, except when haste was imperative, in the Army of Northern Virginia. Practical experience taught us that no movement should be permitted until every officer was acquainted with the object in view, and had received his instructions. I may add that brigade and regimental commanders were most particular to secure their flanks and to keep contact with other troops by means of patrols; and, also, that in thick woods it was found to be of very great advantage if a few trustworthy men were detailed as orderlies to the regimental commander, for by this means he could most easily control the advance of his skirmishers and of his line of battle.

“N. H. HARRIS,

_General, late Army of Northern Virginia.”_

NOTE III

Before the campaign of 1864, the theatre of which embraced the region between the Rappahannock and Petersburg, including the Wilderness, corps of sharp-shooters, each 180 strong, were organised in many of the brigades of Lee’s army. These “light” troops undertook the outpost, advanced, flank, and rear guard duties. The men were carefully selected; they were trained judges of distance, skilful and enterprising on patrol, and first-rate marksmen, and their rifles were often fitted with telescopic sights. In order to increase their confidence in each other they were subdivided into groups of fours, which messed and slept together, and were never separated in action. These corps did excellent service during the campaign of 1864.

[1] Letter to the author. A letter of General Lee to Mrs. Jackson, which contains a reference to this council of war, appears as a Note at the end of the chapter.

[2] There were three halts during the march of fourteen miles. Letter from Major Hotchkiss.

[3] Melzi Chancellor’s house; otherwise Dowdall’s Tavern.

[4] Sedgwick had crossed the river on April 29 and 30.

[5] Rodes’ brigades were formed in the following order:

......................................
|| _______ ______ _____ _______ ..........
Iverson O’Neal Doles Colquitt _______ Ramseur ||

[6] Lieutenant-Colonel Hamlin, the latest historian of Chancellorsville, has completely disposed of the legend that these fifty guns repulsed a desperate attack on Hazel Grove.

[7] In the woods west of the Fairview Heights.

[8] Commander-in-Chief, U.S. Army, 1898.

[9] _Campaigns of the Army of the Potomac,_ pp. 241–242.

[10] It is but fair, however, to state that Hooker, during the cannonade which preceded the final assault at Chancellorsville, had been severely bruised by a fall of masonry.

[11] Hon. Francis Lawley, the _Times,_ June 16, 1863.

[12] Chancellorsville, Lt.-Colonel A. C. Hamlin.