who fills a large space in the history of the war in Virginia. The
design of this volume is not such as to justify an extended notice of
him, or a detailed examination of his abilities as a soldier. That he
possessed military endowments of a very high order is conceded by most
persons, but his critics add that he was dangerously prone to caution
and inactivity. Such was the criticism of his enemies at Washington
and throughout the North, and his pronounced political opinions had
gained him a large number. It may, however, be permitted one who can
have no reason to unduly commend him, to say that the retreat to
James River, and the arrest of Lee in his march of invasion toward
Pennsylvania, seem to indicate the possession of something more than
"inactivity," and of that species of "caution" which achieves success.
It will probably, however, be claimed by few, even among the
personal friends of this general, that he was a soldier of the first
ability--one competent to oppose Lee.
As to the personal qualities of General McClellan, there seems to be
no difference of opinion. He was a gentleman of high breeding, and
detested all oppression of the weak and non-combatants. Somewhat prone
to _hauteur_, in presence of the importunities of the Executive and
other civilians unskilled in military affairs, he was patient, mild,
and cordial with his men. These qualities, with others which he
possessed, seem to have rendered him peculiarly acceptable to the
private soldier, and it is certain that he was, beyond comparison, the
most popular of all the generals who, one after another, commanded the
"Army of the Potomac."
IX.
LEE CONCENTRATES AT FREDERICKSBURG.
In returning from the Valley, General Lee had exhibited that
combination of boldness and caution which indicates in a commander the
possession of excellent generalship.
One of two courses was necessary: either to make a rapid march with
his entire army, in order to interpose himself between General
McClellan and what seemed to be his objective point, Gordonsville; or,
to so manoeuvre his forces as to retard and embarrass his adversary.
Of these, Lee chose the latter course, exposing himself to what seemed
very great danger. Jackson was left in the Valley, and Longstreet sent
to Culpepper; under these circumstances, General McClellan might have
cut off one of the two detached bodies; but Lee seems to have read
the character of his adversary accurately, and to have felt that a
movement of such boldness would not probably be undertaken by him.
Provision had nevertheless been made for this possible contingency.
Jackson was directed by Lee, in case of an attack by General
McClellan, to retire, by way of Strasburg, up the Valley, and so
rejoin the main body. That this movement would become necessary,
however, was not, as we have said, contemplated. It was not supposed
by Lee that his adversary would adopt the bold plan of crossing the
Blue Ridge to assail Jackson; thus, to leave that commander in
the Valley, instead of being a military blunder, was a stroke of
generalship, a source of embarrassment to General McClellan, and a
standing threat against the Federal communications, calculated to clog
the movements of their army. That Lee aimed at this is obvious from
his order to Jackson to cross a division to the eastern side of the
Blue Ridge, in General McClellan's rear. When this was done, the
Federal commander abandoned, if he had ever resolved upon, the design
of striking in between the Confederate detachments, as is claimed
by his admirers to have been his determination; gave up all idea of
"moving into the Valley and endeavoring to gain their rear;" and from
that moment directed his whole attention to the concentration of his
army near Warrenton, with the obvious view of establishing a new
base, and operating southward on the line of the Orange and Alexandria
Railroad.
Lee's object in these manoeuvres, besides the general one of
embarrassing his adversary, seems to have been to gain time, and thus
to render impossible, from the lateness of the season, a Federal
advance upon Richmond. Had General McClellan remained in command, it
is probable that this object would have been attained, and the battle
of Fredericksburg would not have taken place. The two armies would
have lain opposite each other in Culpepper and Fauquier respectively,
with the Upper Rappahannock between them throughout the winter; and
the Confederate forces, weary and worn by the long marches and hard
combats of 1862, would have had the opportunity to rest and recover
their energies for the coming spring.
The change of commanders defeated these views, if they were
entertained by General Lee. On assuming command, General Burnside
conceived the project, in spite of the near approach of winter, of
crossing the Rappahannock at Fredericksburg, and marching on Richmond.
This he now proceeded to attempt, by steadily moving from Warrenton
toward the Lower Rappahannock, and the result, as will be seen, was a
Federal disaster to wind up this "year of battles."
We have spoken with some particularity of the character and military
abilities of General McClellan, the first able commander of the
Federal forces in Virginia. Of General Burnside, who appears but
once, and for a brief space only, on that great theatre, it will be
necessary to say only a few words. A modest and honorable soldier,
cherishing for General McClellan a cordial friendship, he was
unwilling to supersede that commander, both from personal regard and
distrust of his own abilities. He had not sought the position, which
had rather been thrust upon him. He was "surprised" and "shocked," he
said, at his assignment to the command; he "did not want it, it had
been offered to him twice before, and he did not feel that he could
take it; he had told them that he was not competent to command such
an army as this; he had said the same over and over again to the
President and the Secretary of War." He was, however, directed to
assume command, accepted the responsibility, and proceeded to
carry out the unexpected plan of advancing upon Richmond by way of
Fredericksburg.
To cover this movement, General Burnside made a heavy feint as though
designing to cross into Culpepper. This does not seem to have deceived
Lee, who, on the 17th of November, knew that his adversary was moving.
No sooner had the fact been discovered that General Burnside was
making for Fredericksburg, than the Confederate commander, by a
corresponding movement, passed the Rapidan and hastened in the same
direction. As early as the 17th, two divisions of infantry, with
cavalry and artillery, were in motion. On the morning of the 19th,
Longstreet's corps was sent in the same direction; and when, on
November 20th, General Burnside arrived with his army, the Federal
forces drawn up on the hills north of Fredericksburg saw, on the
highlands south of the city, the red flags and gray lines of their old
adversaries.
As General Jackson had been promptly directed to join the main body,
and was already moving to do so, Lee would soon be able to oppose
General Burnside with his whole force.
Such were the movements of the opposing armies which brought them face
to face at Fredericksburg. Lee had acted promptly, and, it would seem,
with good judgment; but the question has been asked, why he did not
repeat against General Burnside the strategic movement which
had embarrassed General McClellan, and arrest the march upon
Fredericksburg by threatening, with the detachment under Jackson,
the Federal rear. The reasons for not adopting this course will be
perceived by a glance at the map. General Burnside was taking up a
new base--Aquia Creek on the Potomac--and, from the character of the
country, it was wholly impossible for Lee to prevent him from doing
so. He had only to fall back before Jackson, or any force moving
against his flank or rear; the Potomac was at hand, and it was not
in the power of Lee to further annoy him. The latter accordingly
abandoned all thought of repeating his old manoeuvre, moved Longstreet
and the other troops in Culpepper toward Fredericksburg, and,
directing Jackson to join him there, thus concentrated his forces
directly in the Federal front with the view of fighting a pitched
battle, army against army.
This detailed account of Lee's movements may appear tedious to some
readers, but it was rather in grand tactics than in fighting battles
that he displayed his highest abilities as a soldier. He uniformly
adopted the broadest and most judicious plan to bring on battle, and
personally directed, as far as was possible, every detail of his
movements. When the hour came, it may be said of him that he felt he
had done his best--the actual fighting was left largely in the hands
of his corps commanders.
The feints and slight encounters preceding the battle of
Fredericksburg are not of much interest or importance. General
Burnside sent a force to Port Royal, about twenty-five miles below the
city, but Lee promptly detached a portion of his army to meet it, if
it attempted to cross, and that project was abandoned. No attempt was
made by General Burnside to cross above, and it became obvious that he
must pass the river in face of Lee or not at all.
Such was the condition of affairs at Fredericksburg in the first days
of December.
X.
THE BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG.
To a correct understanding of the interesting battle of
Fredericksburg, a brief description of the ground is essential.
The city lies on the south bank of the Rappahannock, which here makes
a considerable bend nearly southward; and along the northern bank,
opposite, extends a range of hills which command the city and the
level ground around it. South of the river the land is low, but from
the depth of the channel forms a line of bluffs, affording good
shelter to troops after crossing to assail a force beyond. The only
good position for such a force, standing on the defensive, is a range
of hills hemming in the level ground. This range begins near the
western suburbs of the city, where it is called "Marye's Hill," and
sweeps round to the southward, gradually receding from the stream,
until, at Hamilton's Crossing, on the Richmond and Potomac Railroad, a
mile or more from the river, it suddenly subsides into the plain. This
plain extends to the right, and is bounded by the deep and difficult
channel of Massaponnax Creek. As Marye's Hill is the natural position
for the left of an army posted to defend Fredericksburg, the crest
above Hamilton's Crossing is the natural position for the right
of such a line, care being taken to cover the extreme right with
artillery, to obstruct the passage of the ground between the crest and
the Massaponnax.
[Illustration: Map--Battle of Fredericksburg.]
Behind the hills on the north side General Burnside's army was posted,
having the railroad to Aquia Creek for the transportation of their
supplies. On the range of hills which we have described south of the
city, General Lee was stationed, the same railroad connecting him with
Richmond. Longstreet's corps composed his left wing, and extended
from Marye's Hill to about the middle of the range of hills. There
Jackson's line began, forming the right wing, and extending to the
termination of the range at Hamilton's Crossing. On Jackson's right,
to guard the plain reaching to the Massaponnax, Stuart was posted with
cavalry and artillery.
The numbers of the adversaries at Fredericksburg can be stated with
accuracy upon one side, but not upon the other. General Lee's force
may be said to have been, in round numbers, about fifty thousand of
all arms. It could scarcely have exceeded that, unless he received
heavy reënforcements after Sharpsburg; and the present writer
has never heard or read that he received reënforcements of any
description. The number, fifty thousand, thus seems to have been the
full amount of the army. That of General Burnside's forces seems to
have been considerably larger. The Federal army consisted of the
First, Second, Third, Fifth, Sixth, Ninth, and Eleventh Corps; the
latter a corps of reserve and large. If these had been recruited to
the full number reported by General McClellan at Sharpsburg, and the
additional troops (Fifth and Eleventh Corps) be estimated, the Federal
army must have exceeded one hundred thousand men. This estimate is
borne out by Federal authorities. "General Franklin," says a Northern
writer, "had now with him about one-half the whole army;" and General
Meade says that Franklin's force "amounted to from fifty-five thousand
to sixty thousand men," which would seem to indicate that the whole
army numbered from one hundred and ten thousand to one hundred and
twenty thousand men.
A strong position was obviously essential to render it possible for
the Southern army, of about fifty thousand men, to successfully oppose
the advance of this force of above one hundred thousand. Lee had found
this position, and constructed earthworks for artillery, with the view
of receiving the attack of the enemy after their crossing. He was
unable to obstruct this crossing in any material degree; and he states
clearly the grounds of this inability. "The plain of Fredericksburg,"
he says, "is so completely commanded by the Stafford heights, that no
effectual opposition could be made to the construction of bridges,
or the passage of the river, without exposing our troops to the
destructive fire of the numerous batteries of the enemy.... Our
position was, therefore, selected with a view to resist the enemy's
advance after crossing, and the river was guarded only by a
force sufficient to impede his movements until the army could be
concentrated."
The brief description we have presented of the character of the ground
around Fredericksburg, and the position of the adversaries, will
sufficiently indicate the conditions under which the battle was
fought. Both armies seem to have been in excellent spirits. That of
General Burnside had made a successful march, during which they had
scarcely seen an enemy, and now looked forward, probably, to certain
if not easy victory. General Lee's army, in like manner, had undergone
recently no peculiar hardships in marching or fighting; and, to
whatever cause the fact may be attributed, was in a condition of the
highest efficiency. The men seemed to be confident of the result of
the coming conflict, and, in their bivouacs on the line of battle, in
the woods fringing the ridge which they occupied, laughed, jested,
cheered, on the slightest provocation, and, instead of shrinking from,
looked forward with eagerness to, the moment when General Burnside
would advance to attack them. This buoyant and elastic spirit in the
Southern troops was observable on the eve of nearly every battle of
the war. Whether it was due to the peculiar characteristics of the
race, or to other causes, we shall not pause here to inquire; but the
fact was plain to the most casual observation, and was never more
striking than just before Fredericksburg, unless just preceding the
battle of Gettysburg.
Nothing of any importance occurred, from the 20th of November, when
General Burnside's army was concentrated on the heights north of
Fredericksburg, until the 11th of December, when the Federal army
began crossing the Rappahannock to deliver battle. Lee's reasons for
not attempting to resist the passage of the river have been given
above. The plain on which it would have been necessary to draw up
his army, in order to do so, was too much exposed to the numerous
artillery of the enemy on the northern bank. Lee resolved, therefore,
not to oppose the crossing of the Federal troops, but to await their
assault on the commanding ground west and south of the city.
On the morning of December 11th, before dawn, the dull boom of Lee's
signal-guns indicated that the enemy were moving, and the Southern
troops formed line of battle to meet the coming attack. General
Burnside had made arrangements to cross the river on pontoon bridges,
one opposite the city, and another a mile or two lower down the
stream. General Franklin, commanding the two corps of the left Grand
Division, succeeded, without trouble, in laying the lower bridge, as
the ground did not permit Lee to offer material obstruction; and this
large portion of the army was now ready to cross. The passage of the
stream at Fredericksburg was more difficult. Although determined not
to make a serious effort to prevent the enemy from crossing, General
Lee had placed two regiments of Barksdale's Mississippians along the
bank of the river, in the city, to act as sharp-shooters, and impede
the construction of the pontoon bridges, with the view, doubtless, of
thus giving time to marshal his troops. The success of this device
was considerable. The workmen, busily engaged in laying the Federal
pontoons, were so much interrupted by the fire of the Confederate
marksmen--who directed their aim through the heavy fog by the noise
made in putting together the boats--that, after losing a number of
men, the Federal commander discontinued his attempt. It was renewed
again and again, without success, as before, when, provoked apparently
by the presence of this hornet's nest, which reversed all his plans,
General Burnside, about ten o'clock, opened a furious fire of
artillery upon the city. The extent of this bombardment will be
understood from the statement that one hundred and forty-seven pieces
of artillery were employed, which fired seven thousand three hundred
and fifty rounds of ammunition, in one instance piercing a single
small house with fifty round-shot. An eye-witness of this scene says:
"The enemy had planted more than a hundred pieces of artillery on the
hills to the northern and eastern sides of the town, and, from an
early hour in the forenoon, swept the streets with round-shot, shell,
and case-shot, firing frequently a hundred guns a minute. The quick
puffs of smoke, touched in the centre with tongues of flame, ran
incessantly along the lines of their batteries on the slopes, and,
as the smoke slowly drifted away, the bellowing roar came up in one
continuous roll. The town was soon fired, and a dense cloud of smoke
enveloped its roofs and steeples. The white church-spires still rose
serenely aloft, defying shot or shell, though a portion of one of them
was torn off. The smoke was succeeded by lurid flame, and the crimson
mass brought to mind the pictures of Moscow burning." The same writer
says: "Men, women, and children, were driven from the town, and
hundreds of ladies and children were seen wandering, homeless, and
without shelter, over the frozen highway, in thin clothing, knowing
not where to find a place of refuge."
[Illustration: FREDERICKSBURG]
General Lee watched this painful spectacle from a redoubt to the right
of the telegraph road, not far from his centre, where a shoulder
jutting out from the ridge, and now called "Lee's Hill," afforded
him a clear view of the city. The destruction of the place, and the
suffering of the inhabitants, aroused in him a deep melancholy,
mingled with exasperation, and his comment on the scene was probably
as bitter as any speech which he uttered during the whole war.
Standing, wrapped in his cape, with only a few officers near, he
looked fixedly at the flames rising from the city, and, after
remaining for a long time silent, said, in his grave, deep voice:
"These people delight to destroy the weak, and those who can make no
defence; it just suits them."
General Burnside continued the bombardment for some hours, the
Mississippians still holding the river-bank and preventing the laying
of the pontoons, which was again begun and again discontinued. At
about four in the afternoon, however, a force was sent across in
barges, and by nightfall the city was evacuated by Lee, and General
Burnside proceeded rapidly to lay his pontoon bridge, upon which his
army then began to pass over. The crossing continued throughout the
next day, not materially obstructed by the fire of Lee's artillery,
as a dense fog rendered the aim of the cannoneers unreliable. By
nightfall (of the 12th) the Federal army was over, with the exception
of General Hooker's Centre Grand Division, which was held in reserve
on the north bank. General Burnside then proceeded to form his line of
battle. It stretched from the western suburbs of Fredericksburg down
the river, along what is called the River road, for a distance of
about four miles, and consisted of the Right Grand Division, under
General Sumner, at the city, and the Left Grand Division, under
General Franklin, lower down, and opposite Lee's right. General
Franklin's Grand Division numbered, according to General Meade, from
fifty-five to sixty thousand men; the numbers of Generals Sumner and
Hooker are not known to the present writer, but are said by Federal
authorities, as we have stated, to have amounted together to about the
same.
At daybreak, on the morning of December 13th, a muffled sound, issuing
from the dense fog covering the low ground, indicated that the Federal
lines were preparing to advance.
To enable the reader to understand General Burnside's plan of attack,
it is necessary that brief extracts should be presented from his
orders on the occasion, and from his subsequent testimony before the
committee on the conduct of the war. Despite the length of time since
his arrival at Fredericksburg--a period of more than three weeks--the
Federal commander had, it appears, been unable to obtain full and
accurate information of the character of the ground occupied by Lee,
and thus moved very much in the dark. He seems to have formed his plan
of attack in consequence of information from "a colored man." His
words are: "The enemy had cut a road along in the rear of the line of
heights where we made our attack.... I obtained, from a colored man
at the other side of the town, information in regard to this new road
which proved to be correct. I wanted to obtain possession of that
new road, and that was my reason for making an attack on the extreme
left." It is difficult for those familiar with the ground referred to,
to understand how this "new road," a mere country bridle-path, as it
were, extending along in the rear of Lee's right wing, could have been
regarded as a topographical feature of any importance. The road,
which remains unchanged, and may be seen by any one to-day, was
insignificant in a military point of view, and, in attaching such
importance to seizing it, the Federal commander committed a grave
error.
What seems to have been really judicious in his plan, was the turning
movement determined on against Lee's right, along the old Richmond
road, running from the direction of the river past the end of the
ridge occupied by the Confederates, and so southward. To break through
at this point was the only hope of success, and General Burnside had
accordingly resolved, he declared, upon "a rapid movement down the old
Richmond road" with Franklin's large command. Unfortunately, however,
this wise design was complicated with another, most unwise, to send
forward _a division_, first, to seize the crest of the ridge near the
point where it sinks into the plain. On this crest were posted the
veterans of Jackson, commanded in person by that skilful soldier.
Three lines of infantry, supported by artillery, were ready to receive
the Federal attack, and, to force back this stubborn obstacle, General
Burnside sent a division. The proof is found in his order to General
Franklin at about six o'clock on the morning of the battle: "Send
out a division at least ... to seize, if possible, the heights near
Captain Hamilton's," which was the ground whereon Jackson's right
rested.
An attack on the formidable position known as Marye's Hill, on Lee's
left, west of Fredericksburg, was also directed to be made by the same
small force. The order to General Sumner was to "form a column of
_a division_, for the purpose of pushing in the direction of the
Telegraph and Plank roads, for the purpose of seizing the heights in
the rear of the town;" or, according to another version, "up the Plank
road to its intersection with the Telegraph road, where they will
divide, with the object of seizing the heights on both sides of those
roads."
The point of "intersection" here referred to was the locality of what
has been called "that sombre, fatal, terrible stone wall," just under
Marye's Hill, where the most fearful slaughter of the Federal forces
took place. Marye's Hill is a strong position, and its importance was
well understood by Lee. Longstreet's infantry was in heavy line of
battle behind it, and the crest bristled with artillery. There was
still less hope here of effecting any thing with "a division" than on
the Confederate right held by Jackson.
General Burnside seems, however, to have regarded success as probable.
He added in his order: "Holding these heights, with the heights near
Captain Hamilton's, will, I hope, compel the enemy to evacuate the
whole ridge between these points." In his testimony afterward, he said
that, in the event of failure in these assaults on Lee's flanks, he
"proposed to make a direct attack on their front, and drive them out
of their works."
These extracts from General Burnside's orders and testimony clearly
indicate his plan, which was to assail both Lee's right and left, and,
in the event of failure, direct a heavy blow at his centre. That the
whole plan completely failed was mainly due, it would seem, to the
inconsiderable numbers of the assaulting columns.
We return now to the narrative of the battle which these comments have
interrupted.
General Lee was ready to receive the Federal attack, and, at an early
hour of the morning, rode from his headquarters, in rear of his
centre, along his line of battle toward the right, where he probably
expected the main assault of the enemy to take place. He was clad in
his plain, well-worn gray uniform, with felt hat, cavalry-boots, and
short cape, without sword, and almost without any indications of his
rank. In these outward details, he differed much from Generals Jackson
and Stuart, who rode with him. The latter, as was usual with him, wore
a fully-decorated uniform, sash, black plume, sabre, and handsome
gauntlets. General Jackson, also, on this day, chanced to have
exchanged his dingy old coat and sun-scorched cadet-cap for a new
coat[1] covered with dazzling buttons, and a cap brilliant with a
broad band of gold lace, in which (for him) extraordinary disguise his
men scarcely knew him.
[Footnote 1: This coat was a present from Stuart.]
As Lee and his companions passed along in front of the line of battle,
the troops cheered them. It was evident that the army was in excellent
spirits, and ready for the hard work which the day would bring. Lee
proceeded down the old Richmond, or stage road--that mentioned in
General Burnside's order as the one over which his large flanking
column was to move--and rode on with Stuart until he was near the
River road, running toward Fredericksburg, parallel to the Federal
line of battle. Here he stopped, and endeavored to make out, through
the dense fog covering the plain, whether the Federal forces were
moving. A stifled hum issued from the mist, but nothing could be seen.
It seemed, however, that the enemy's skirmishers--probably concealed
in the ditches along the River road--had sharper eyes, as bullets
began to whistle around the two generals, and soon a number of black
specks were seen moving forward. General Lee remained for some time
longer, in spite of the exposure, conversing with great calmness and
gravity with Stuart, who was all ardor. He then rode back slowly,
passed along his line of battle, greeted wherever he was seen with
cheers, and took his position on the eminence in his centre, near the
Telegraph road, the same commanding point from which he had witnessed
the bombardment of Fredericksburg.
The battle did not commence until ten o'clock, owing to the dense fog,
through which the light of the sun could scarcely pierce. At that hour
the mist lifted and rolled away, and the Confederates posted on the
ridge saw a heavy column of infantry advancing to attack their right,
near the Hamilton House. This force was Meade's division, supported
by Gibbon's, with a third in reserve, General Franklin having put in
action as many troops as his orders ("a division at least") permitted.
General Meade was arrested for some time by a minute but most annoying
obstacle. Stuart had placed a single piece of artillery, under Major
John Pelham, near the point where the old Richmond and River roads
meet--that is, directly on the flank of the advancing column--and this
gun now opened a rapid and determined fire upon General Meade. Major
Pelham--almost a boy in years--continued to hold his exposed position
with great gallantry, although the enemy opened fire upon him with
several batteries, killing a number of his gunners. General Lee
witnessed this duel from the hill on which he had taken his stand, and
is said to have exclaimed, "It is glorious to see such courage in one
so young!" [Footnote: General Lee's opinion of Major Pelham appears
from his report, in which he styles the young officer "the gallant
Pelham," and says: "Four batteries immediately turned upon him, but
he sustained their heavy fire with the unflinching courage that ever
distinguished him." Pelham fell at Kelly's Ford in March, 1863.]
Pelham continued the cannonade for about two hours, only retiring when
he received a peremptory order from Jackson to do so; and it would
seem that this one gun caused a considerable delay in the attack.
"Meade advanced across the plain, but had not proceeded far," says Mr.
Swinton, "before he was compelled to stop and silence a battery that
Stuart had posted on the Port Royal road." Having brushed away this
annoying obstacle, General Meade, with a force which he states to have
amounted to ten thousand men, advanced rapidly to attack the hill upon
which the Confederates awaited him. He was suffered to approach within
a few hundred yards, when Jackson's artillery, under Colonel Walker,
posted near the end of the ridge, opened a sudden and furious fire,
which threw the Federal line into temporary confusion. The troops soon
rallied, however, and advanced again to the attack, which fell on
Jackson's front line under A.P. Hill. The struggle which now ensued
was fierce and bloody, but, a gap having been left between the
brigades of Archer and Lane, the enemy pierced the opening, turning
the left of one brigade and the right of the other, pressed on,
attacked Gregg's brigade of Hill's reserve, threw it into confusion,
and seemed about to carry the crest. Gregg's brigade was quickly
rallied, however, by its brave commander, who soon afterward fell,
mortally wounded; the further progress of the enemy was checked, and,
Jackson's second line rapidly advancing, the enemy were met and forced
back, step by step, until they were driven down the slope again. Here
they were attacked by the brigades of Hoke and Atkinson, and driven
beyond the railroad, the Confederates cheering and following them into
the plain. The repulse had been complete, and the slope and ground
in front of it were strewed with Federal dead. They had returned as
rapidly as they had charged, pursued by shot and shell, and General
Lee, witnessing the spectacle from his hill, murmured, in his grave
and measured voice: "It is well this is so terrible! we should grow
too fond of it!"
The assault on the Confederate right had thus ended in disaster, but
almost immediately another attack took place, whose results were more
bloody and terrible still. As General Meade fell back, pursued by the
men of Jackson, the sudden roar of artillery from the Confederate left
indicated that a heavy conflict had begun in that quarter. The Federal
troops were charging Marye's Hill, which was to prove the Cemetery
Hill of Fredericksburg. This frightful charge--for no other adjective
can describe it--was made by General French's division, supported by
General Hancock. The Federal troops rushed forward over the broken
ground in the suburbs of the city, and, "as soon as the masses became
dense enough,"[1] were received with a concentrated artillery fire
from the hill in front of them. This fire was so destructive that it
"made gaps that could be seen at the distance of a mile." The charging
division had advanced in column of brigades, and the front was nearly
destroyed. The troops continued to move forward, however, and had
nearly reached the base of the hill, when the brigades of Cobb and
Cooke, posted behind a stone wall running parallel with the Telegraph
road, met them with a sudden fire of musketry, which drove them back
in terrible disorder. Nearly half the force was killed or lay disabled
on the field, and upon the survivors, now in full retreat, was
directed a concentrated artillery-fire from, the hill.
[Footnote 1: Longstreet.]
In face of this discharge of cannon, General Hancock's force,
supporting French, now gallantly advanced in its turn. The charge
lasted about fifteen minutes, and in that time General Hancock lost
more than two thousand of the five thousand men of his command. The
repulse was still more bloody and decisive than the first. The second
column fell back in disorder, leaving the ground covered with their
dead.
General Burnside had hitherto remained at the "Phillips House," a mile
or more from the Rappahannock. He now mounted his horse, and, riding
down to the river, dismounted, walked up and down in great agitation,
and exclaimed, looking at Marye's Hill: "That crest must be carried
to-night."[1]
[Footnote 1: The authority for this incident is Mr. William Swinton,
who was present.]
In spite of the murderous results of the first charges, the Federal
commander determined on a third. General Hooker's reserve was ordered
to make it, and, although that officer protested against it, General
Burnside was immovable, and repeated his order. General Hooker
sullenly obeyed, and opened with artillery upon the stone wall at the
foot of the hill, in order to make a breach in it. This fire continued
until nearly sunset, when Humphrey's division was formed for the
charge. The men were ordered to throw aside their knapsacks, and not
to load their guns, "for there was no time there to load and fire,"
says General Hooker. The word was given about sunset, and the division
charged headlong over the ground already covered with dead. A few
words will convey the result. Of four thousand men who charged,
seventeen hundred and sixty were left dead or wounded on the field.
The rest retreated, pursued by the fire of the batteries and infantry;
and night fell on the battle-field.
This charge was the real termination of the bloody battle of
Fredericksburg, but, on the Confederate right, Jackson had planned and
begun to execute a decisive advance on the force in his front. This he
designed to undertake "precisely at sunset," and his intention was
to depend on the bayonet, his military judgment or instinct having
satisfied him that the _morale_ of the Federal army was destroyed. The
advance was discontinued, however, in consequence of the lateness of
the hour and the sudden artillery-fire which saluted him as he began
to move. A striking feature of this intended advance is the fact that
Jackson had placed his artillery _in front_ of his line of battle,
intending to attack in that manner.
As darkness settled down, the last guns of Stuart, who had defended
the Confederate right flank with about thirty pieces of artillery,
were heard far in advance, and apparently advancing still. The Federal
lines had fallen back, wellnigh to the banks of the river, and there
seems little room to doubt that the _morale_ of the men was seriously
impaired. "From what I knew of our want of success upon the right,"
says General Franklin, when interrogated on this point, "and the
demoralized condition of the troops upon the right and centre, as
represented to me by their commanders, I confess I believe the order
to recross was a very proper one."
General Burnside refused to give the order; and, nearly overwhelmed,
apparently, by the fatal result of the attack, determined to form the
ninth corps in column of regiments, and lead it in person against
Marye's Hill, on the next morning. Such a design, in a soldier of
ability, indicates desperation. To charge Marye's Hill with a corps in
column of regiments, was to devote the force to destruction. It was
nearly certain that the whole command would be torn to pieces by the
Southern artillery, but General Burnside seems to have regarded the
possession of the hill as worth any amount of blood; and, in face of
the urgent appeals of his officers, gave orders for the movement. At
the last moment, however, he yielded to the entreaties of General
Sumner, and abandoned his bloody design.
Still it seemed that the Federal commander was unable to come to the
mortifying resolution of recrossing the Rappahannock. The battle
was fought on the 13th of December, and until the night of the 15th
General Burnside continued to face Lee on the south bank of the
river--his bands playing, his flags flying, and nothing indicating an
intention of retiring. To that resolve he had however come, and on the
night of the 15th, in the midst of storm and darkness, the Federal
army recrossed to the north bank of the Rappahannock.
XI FINAL MOVEMENTS OF 1862
The battle of Fredericksburg was another defeat of the Federal
programme of invasion, as decisive, and in one sense as disastrous, as
the second battle of Manassas. General Burnside had not lost as many
men as General Pope, and had not retreated in confusion, pursued by a
victorious enemy; but, brief as the conflict had been--two or three
hours summing up all the real fighting--its desperate character, and
the evident hopelessness of any attempt to storm Lee's position,
profoundly discouraged and demoralized the Northern troops. We have
quoted the statement of General Franklin, commanding the whole left
wing, that from "the demoralized condition of the troops upon the
right and centre, as represented to him by their commanders, he
believed the order to recross was a very proper one." Nor is there
any ground to suppose that the feeling of the left wing was greatly
better. That wing of the army had not suffered as heavily as the
right, which had recoiled with such frightful slaughter from Marye's
Hill; but the repulse of General Meade in their own front had been
equally decisive, and the non-success of the right must have reacted
on the left, discouraging that also. Northern writers, in a position
to ascertain the condition of the troops, fully bear out this view:
"That the _morale_ of the Army of the Potomac became seriously
impaired after the disaster at Fredericksburg," says Mr. Swinton, the
able and candid historian of the campaign, "was only too manifest.
Indeed, it would be impossible to imagine a graver or gloomier, a more
sombre or unmusical body of men than the Army of the Potomac a month
after the battle. And, as the days went by, despondency, discontent,
and all evil inspirations, with their natural consequent, desertion,
seemed to increase rather than to diminish, until, for the first time,
the Army of the Potomac could be said to be really demoralized."
General Sumner noticed that a spirit of "croaking" had become diffused
throughout the forces. For an army to display that tendency clearly
indicates that the troops have lost the most important element of
victory--confidence in themselves and their leader. And for this
sentiment there was valid reason. Columns wholly inadequate in numbers
had been advanced against the formidable Confederate positions,
positions so strong and well defended that it is doubtful if thrice
the force could have made any impression upon them, and the result
was such as might have been expected. The men lost confidence in the
military capacity of their commander, and in their own powers. After
the double repulse at Marye's Hill and in front of Jackson, the
troops, looking at the ground strewed with dead and wounded, were
in no condition to go forward hopefully to another struggle which
promised to be equally bloody.
The Southern army was naturally in a condition strongly in contrast
with that of their adversary. They had repulsed the determined assault
of the Federal columns with comparative ease on both flanks. Jackson's
first line, although pierced and driven back, soon rallied, and
checked the enemy until the second line came up, when General Meade
was driven back, the third line not having moved from its position
along the road near the Hamilton House. On the left, Longstreet had
repulsed the Federal charge with his artillery and two small brigades.
The loss of the Confederates in both these encounters was much
less than that of their adversaries[1], a natural result of the
circumstances; and thus, instead of sharing the depression of their
opponents, the Southern troops were elated, and looked forward to
a renewal of the battle with confidence in themselves and in their
leader.
[Footnote 1: "Our loss during the operation, since the movements
of the enemy began, amounts to about eighteen hundred killed and
wounded."--_Lee's Report_. Federal authorities state the Northern loss
at a little over twelve thousand; the larger part, no doubt, in the
attack on Marye's Hill.]
It is not necessary to offer much comment upon the manner in which
General Burnside had attacked. He is said, by his critics, not to
have, at the time, designed the turning movement against General Lee's
right, upon which point the present writer is unable to decide. That
movement would seem to have presented the sole and only chance of
success for the Federal arms, as the successful advance of General
Franklin's fifty-five or sixty thousand men up the old Richmond road
would have compelled Lee to retire his whole right wing, to protect it
from an assault in flank and reverse. What dispositions he would have
made under these circumstances must be left to conjecture; but, it is
certain that the blow would have proved a serious one, calling for the
display of all his military ability. In the event, however, that this
was the main great aim of General Burnside, his method of carrying out
his design insured, it would seem, its failure. Ten thousand men only
were to clear the way for the flanking movement, in order to effect
which object it was necessary to crush Jackson. So that it may be said
that the success of the plan involved the repulse of one-half Lee's
army with ten thousand men.
The assault on Marye's Hill was an equally fatal military mistake.
That the position could not be stormed, is proved by the result of the
actual attempt. It is doubtful if, in any battle ever fought by any
troops, men displayed greater gallantry. They rushed headlong, not
only once, but thrice, into the focus of a frightful front and cross
fire of artillery and small-arms, losing nearly half their numbers in
a few minutes; the ground was littered with their dead, and yet the
foremost had only been able to approach within sixty yards of the
terrible stone wall in advance of the hill. There they fell, throwing
up their hands to indicate that they saw at last that the attempt to
carry the hill was hopeless.
These comments seem justified by the circumstances, and are made with
no intention of casting obloquy upon the commander who, displaying
little ability, gave evidences of unfaltering courage. He had urged
his inability to handle so large an army, but the authorities had
forced the command upon him; he had accepted it and done his best,
and, like a brave soldier, determined to lead the final charge in
person, dying, if necessary, at the head of his men.
General Lee has not escaped criticism any more than General Burnside.
The Southern people were naturally dissatisfied with the result--the
safe retreat of the Federal army--and asked why they had not been
attacked and captured or destroyed. The London _Times_, at that
period, and a military critic recently, in the same journal, declared
that Lee had it in his power to crush General Burnside, "horse, foot,
and dragoons," and, from his failure to do so, argued his want of
great generalship. A full discussion of the question is left by the
present writer to those better skilled than himself in military
science. It is proper, however, to insert here General Lee's own
explanation of his action:
"The attack on the 13th," he says, "had been so easily repulsed, and
by so small a part of our army, that it was not supposed the enemy
would limit his efforts to one attempt, which, in view of the
magnitude of his preparations, and the extent of his force, seemed to
be comparatively insignificant. Believing, therefore, that he would
attack us, it was not deemed expedient to lose the advantages of
our position and expose the troops to the fire of his inaccessible
batteries beyond the river, by advancing against him. But we were
necessarily ignorant of the extent to which he had suffered, and only
became aware of it when, on the morning of the 16th, it was discovered
that he had availed himself of the darkness of night, and the
prevalence of a violent storm of wind and rain, to recross the river."
This statement was no doubt framed by General Lee to meet the
criticisms which the result of the battle occasioned. In conversing
with General Stuart on the subject, he added that he felt too great
responsibility for the preservation of his troops to unnecessarily
hazard them. "No one knows," he said, "how _brittle_ an army is."
The word may appear strange, applied to the Army of Northern Virginia,
which had certainly vindicated its claim, under many arduous trials,
to the virtues of toughness and endurance. But Lee's meaning was
plain, and his view seems to have been founded on good sense. The
enemy had in all, probably, two hundred pieces of artillery, a large
portion of which were posted on the high ground north of the river.
Had Lee descended from his ridge and advanced into the plain to
attack, this large number of guns would have greeted him with a rapid
and destructive fire, which must have inflicted upon him a loss as
nearly heavy as he had inflicted upon General Burnside at Marye's
Hill. From such a result he naturally shrunk. It has been seen that
the Federal troops, brave as they were, had been demoralized by such
a fire; and Lee was unwilling to expose his own troops to similar
slaughter.
There is little question, it seems, that an advance of the description
mentioned would have resulted in a conclusive victory, and the
probable surrender of the whole or a large portion of the Federal
army. Whether the probability of such a result was sufficient to
compensate for the certain slaughter, the reader will decide for
himself. General Lee did not think so, and did not order the advance.
He preferred awaiting, in his strong position, the second assault
which General Burnside would probably make; and, while he thus waited,
the enemy secretly recrossed the river, rendering an attack upon them
by Lee impossible.
General Burnside made a second movement to cross the
Rappahannock--this time at Banks's Ford, above Fredericksburg--in the
inclement month of January; but, as he might have anticipated, the
condition of the roads was such that it was impossible to advance. His
artillery, with the horses dragging the pieces, sank into the almost
bottomless mud, where they stuck fast--even the foot-soldiers found it
difficult to march through the quagmire--and the whole movement was
speedily abandoned.
When General Burnside issued the order for this injudicious advance,
two of his general officers met, and one asked:
"What do you think of it?"
"It don't seem to have the _ring_" was the reply.
"No--the bell is broken," the other added.
This incident, which is given on the authority of a Northern writer,
probably conveys a correct idea of the feeling of both the
officers and men of General Burnside's army. The disastrous day of
Fredericksburg had seriously injured the troops.
"The Army of the Potomac," the writer adds, "was sadly fractured, and
its tones had no longer the clear, inspiring ring of victory."
XII.
THE YEAR OF BATTLES.
The stormy year 1862 had terminated, thus, in a great Confederate
success. In its arduous campaigns, following each other in rapid
succession, General Lee had directed the movements of the main great
army, and the result of the year's fighting was to gain him that high
military reputation which his subsequent movements only consolidated
and increased.
A rapid glance at the events of the year in their general outlines
will indicate the merit due the Southern commander. The Federal plan
of invasion in the spring had been extremely formidable. Virginia was
to be pierced by no less than four armies--from the northwest, the
Shenandoah Valley, the Potomac, and the Peninsula--the whole force to
converge upon Richmond, the "heart of the rebellion." Of these, the
army of General McClellan was the largest and most threatening. It
advanced, with little opposition, until it reached the Chickahominy,
crossed, and lay in sight of Richmond. The great force of one hundred
and fifty thousand men was about to make the decisive assault, when
Lee attacked it, and the battle which ensued drove the Federal army
to a point thirty miles from the city, with such loss as to render
hopeless any further attempt to assail the capital.
Such was the first act of the drama; the rest speedily followed. A new
army was raised promptly by the Federal authorities, and a formidable
advance was made against Richmond again, this time from the direction
of Alexandria. Lee was watching General McClellan when intelligence of
the new movement reached him. Remaining, with a portion of his troops,
near Richmond, he sent Jackson to the Rapidan. The battle of Cedar
Mountain resulted in the repulse of General Pope's vanguard; and,
discovering at last that the real danger lay in the direction of
Culpepper, Lee moved thither, drove back General Pope, flanked him,
and, in the severe battle of Manassas, routed his army, which was
forced to retire upon Washington.
Two armies had thus been driven from the soil of Virginia, and the
Confederate commander had moved into Maryland, in order to draw the
enemy thither, and, if practicable, transfer the war to the heart of
Pennsylvania. Unforeseen circumstances had defeated the latter of
these objects. The concentration on Sharpsburg was rendered necessary;
an obstinately-fought battle ensued there; and, not defeated, but
forced to abandon further movements toward Pennsylvania, Lee had
retired into Virginia, where he remained facing his adversary. This
was the first failure of Lee up to that point in the campaigns of the
year; and an attentive consideration of the circumstances will show
that the result was not fairly attributable to any error which he
had committed. Events beyond his control had shaped his action, and
directed all his movements; and it will remain a question whether the
extrication of his small force from its difficult position did not
better prove Lee's generalship than the victory at Manassas.
The subsequent operations of the opposing armies indicated clearly
that the Southern forces were still in excellent fighting condition;
and the movements of Lee, during the advance of General McClellan
toward Warrenton, were highly honorable to his military ability.
With a force much smaller than that of his adversary, he greatly
embarrassed and impeded the Federal advance; confronted them on the
Upper Rappahannock, completely checking their forward movement in that
direction; and, when they moved rapidly to Fredericksburg, crossed the
Rapidan promptly, reappearing in their front on the range of hills
opposite that city. The battle which followed compensated for the
failure of the Maryland campaign and the drawn battle of Sharpsburg.
General Burnside had attacked, and sustained decisive defeat. The
stormy year, so filled with great events and arduous encounters, had
thus wound up with a pitched battle, in which the enemy suffered a
bloody repulse; and the best commentary on the decisive character of
this last struggle of the year, was the fault found with General Lee
for not destroying his adversary.
In less than six months Lee had thus fought four great pitched
battles--all victories to his arms, with the exception of Sharpsburg,
which was neither a victory nor a defeat. The result was thus highly
encouraging to the South; and, had the Army of Northern Virginia had
its ranks filled up, as the ranks of the Northern armies were, the
events of the year 1862 would have laid the foundation of assured
success. An inquiry into the causes of failure in this particular is
not necessary to the subject of the volume before the reader. It is
only necessary to state the fact that the Army of Northern Virginia,
defending what all conceded to be the territory on which the decisive
struggle must take place, was never sufficiently numerous to follow up
the victories achieved by it. At the battles of the Chickahominy the
army numbered at most about seventy-five thousand; at the second
Manassas, about fifty thousand; at Sharpsburg, less than forty
thousand; and at Fredericksburg, about fifty thousand. In the
following year, it will be seen that these latter numbers were at
first but little exceeded, and, as the months passed on, that they
dwindled more and more, until, in April, 1865, the whole force in line
of battle at Petersburg was scarcely more than thirty thousand men.
Such had been the number of the troops under command of Lee in 1862.
The reader has been informed of the number of the Federal force
opposed to him. This was one hundred and fifty thousand on the
Chickahominy, of whom one hundred and fifteen thousand were effective;
about one hundred thousand, it would seem, under General Pope, at the
second battle of Manassas; eighty-seven thousand actually engaged at
the battle of Sharpsburg; and at Fredericksburg from one hundred and
ten to one hundred and twenty thousand.
These numbers are stated on the authority of Federal officers or
historians, and Lee's force on the authority of his own reports, or of
gentlemen of high character, in a situation to speak with accuracy.
Of the truth of the statements the writer of these pages can have no
doubt; and, if the fighting powers of the Northern and Southern troops
be estimated as equal, the fair conclusion must be arrived at that Lee
surpassed his adversaries in generalship.
The result, at least, of the year's fighting, had been extremely
encouraging to the South, and after the battle of Fredericksburg no
attempts were made to prosecute hostilities during the remainder
of the year. The scheme of crossing above Fredericksburg proved a
_fiasco_, beginning and ending in a day. Thereafter all movements
ceased, and the two armies awaited the return of spring for further
operations.
XIII.
LEE IN DECEMBER, 1862.
Before passing to the great campaigns of the spring and summer of
1863, we propose to say a few words of General Lee, in his private and
personal character, and to attempt to indicate the position which
he occupied at this time in the eyes of the army and the country.
Unknown, save by reputation, when he assumed command of the forces in
June, 1862, he had now, by the winter of the same year, become one of
the best-known personages in the South. Neither the troops nor the
people had perhaps penetrated the full character of Lee; and they seem
to have attributed to him more reserve and less warmth and impulse
than he possessed; but it was impossible for a human being, occupying
so prominent a station before the general eye, to hide, in any
material degree, his main great characteristics, and these had
conciliated for Lee an exalted and wellnigh universal public regard.
He was felt by all to be an individual of great dignity, sincerity,
and earnestness, in the performance of duty. Destitute plainly of that
vulgar ambition which seeks personal aggrandizement rather than the
general good, and dedicated as plainly, heart and soul, to the cause
for which he fought, he had won, even from those who had denounced
him for the supposed hesitation in his course in April, 1861, and had
afterward criticised his military operations, the repute of a truly
great man, as well as of a commander of the first ability. It was felt
by all classes that the dignity of the Southern cause was adequately
represented in the person and character of the commander of her most
important army. While others, as brave and patriotic, no doubt, but of
different temperament, had permitted themselves to become violent and
embittered in their private and public utterances in reference to the
North, Lee had remained calm, moderate, and dignified, under every
provocation. His reports were without rhodomontade or exaggeration,
and his tone uniformly modest, composed, and uninflated. After his
most decisive successes, his pulse had remained calm; he had written
of those successes with the air of one who sees no especial merit in
any thing which he has performed; and, so marked was this tone of
moderation and dignity, that, in reading his official reports to-day,
it seems wellnigh impossible that they could have been written in the
hot atmosphere of a war which aroused the bitterest passions of the
human soul.
Upon this point of Lee's personal and official dignity it is
unnecessary to dwell further, as the quality has long since been
conceded by every one acquainted with the character of the individual,
in the Old World and the New. It is the trait, perhaps, the most
prominent to the observer, looking back now upon the individual; and
it was, doubtless, this august moderation, dignity, and apparent
exemption from natural infirmity, which produced the impression upon
many persons that Lee was cold and unimpressible. We shall speak, in
future, at greater length of his real character than is necessary in
this place; but it may here be said, that the fancy that he was cold
and unimpressible was a very great error. No man had stronger or
warmer feelings, or regarded the invasion of the South with greater
indignation, than himself. The sole difference was, that he had
his feelings under greater control, and permitted no temptation to
overcome his sense of that august dignity and composure becoming
in the chief leader of a great people struggling for independent
government.
The sentiment of the Southern people toward Lee may be summed up in
the statement that they regarded him, in his personal and private
character, with an admiration which was becoming unbounded, and
reposed in him, as commander of the army, the most implicit
confidence.
These expressions are strong, but they do not convey more than the
truth. And this confidence was never withdrawn from him. It remained
as strong in his hours of disaster as in his noontide of success.
A few soured or desponding people might lose heart, indulge in
"croaking," and denounce, under their breath, the commander of
the army as responsible for failure when it occurred; but these
fainthearted people were in a small minority, and had little
encouragement in their muttered criticisms. The Southern people, from
Virginia to the utmost limits of the Gulf States, resolutely persisted
in regarding Lee as one of the greatest soldiers of history, and
retained their confidence in him unimpaired to the end.
The army had set the example of this implicit reliance upon Lee as
the chief leader and military head of the Confederacy. The brave
fighting-men had not taken his reputation on trust, but had seen him
win it fairly on some of the hardest-contested fields of history. The
heavy blow at General McClellan on the Chickahominy had first shown
the troops that they were under command of a thorough soldier. The
rout of Pope at Manassas had followed in the ensuing month. At
Sharpsburg, with less than forty thousand men, Lee had repulsed the
attack of nearly ninety thousand; and at Fredericksburg General
Burnside's great force had been driven back with inconsiderable loss
to the Southern army. These successes, in the eyes of the troops,
were the proofs of true leadership, and it did not detract from Lee's
popularity that, on all occasions, he had carefully refrained from
unnecessary exposure of the troops, especially at Fredericksburg,
where an ambitious commander would have spared no amount of bloodshed
to complete his glory by a great victory. Such was Lee's repute as
army commander in the eyes of men accustomed to close scrutiny of
their leaders. He was regarded as a thorough soldier, at once brave,
wise, cool, resolute, and devoted, heart and soul, to the cause.
Personally, the commander-in-chief was also, by this time, extremely
popular. He did not mingle with the troops to any great extent, nor
often relax the air of dignity, somewhat tinged with reserve, which
was natural with him. This reserve, however, never amounted to
stiffness or "official" coolness. On the contrary, Lee was markedly
free from the chill demeanor of the martinet, and had become greatly
endeared to the men by the unmistakable evidences which he had given
them of his honesty, sincerity, and kindly feeling for them. It
cannot, indeed, be said that he sustained the same relation toward the
troops as General Jackson. For the latter illustrious soldier, the men
had a species of familiar affection, the result, in a great degree, of
the informal and often eccentric demeanor of the individual. There
was little or nothing in Jackson to indicate that he was an officer
holding important command. He was without reserve, and exhibited none
of that formal courtesy which characterized Lee. His manners, on the
contrary, were quite informal, familiar, and conciliated in return a
familiar regard. We repeat the word _familiar_ as conveying precisely
the idea intended to be expressed. It indicated the difference between
these two great soldiers in their outward appearance. Lee retained
about him, upon all occasions, more or less of the commander-in-chief,
passing before the troops on an excellent and well-groomed horse, his
figure erect and graceful in the saddle, for he was one of the best
riders in the army; his demeanor grave and thoughtful; his whole
bearing that of a man intrusted with great responsibilities and the
general care of the whole army. Jackson's personal appearance and air
were very different. His dress was generally dingy: a faded cadet-cap
tilted over his eyes, causing him to raise his chin into the air; his
stirrups were apt to be too short, and his knees were thus elevated
ungracefully, and he would amble along on his rawboned horse with a
singularly absent-minded expression of countenance, raising, from time
to time, his right hand and slapping his knee. This brief outline of
the two commanders will serve to show the difference between them
personally, and it must be added that Jackson's eccentric bearing was
the source, in some degree, of his popularity. The men admired him
immensely for his great military ability, and his odd ways procured
for him that familiar liking to which we have alluded.
It is not intended, however, in these observations to convey the idea
that General Lee was regarded as a stiff and unapproachable personage
of whom the private soldiers stood in awe. Such a statement would not
express the truth. Lee was perfectly approachable, and no instance is
upon record, or ever came to the knowledge of the present writer, in
which he repelled the approach of his men, or received the humblest of
them with any thing but kindness. He was naturally simple and kind,
with great gentleness and patience; and it will not be credible,
to any who knew the man, that he ever made any difference in his
treatment of those who approached him from a consideration of their
rank in the army. His theory, expressed upon many occasions, was, that
the private soldiers--men who fought without the stimulus of rank,
emolument, or individual renown--were the most meritorious class of
the army, and that they deserved and should receive the utmost respect
and consideration. This statement, however, is doubtless unnecessary.
Men of Lee's pride and dignity never make a difference in their
treatment of men, because one is humble, and the other of high rank.
Of such human beings it may be said that _noblesse oblige_.
The men of the army had thus found their commander all that they could
wish, and his increasing personal popularity was shown by the greater
frequency with which they now spoke of him as "Marse Robert," "Old
Uncle Robert," and by other familiar titles. This tendency in troops
is always an indication of personal regard; these nicknames had been
already showered upon Jackson, and General Lee was having his turn.
The troops regarded him now more as their fellow-soldier than
formerly, having found that his dignity was not coldness, and that he
would, under no temptation, indulge his personal convenience, or fare
better than themselves. It was said--we know not with what truth--that
the habit of Northern generals in the war was to look assiduously to
their individual comfort in selecting their quarters, and to take
pleasure in surrounding themselves with glittering staff-officers,
body-guards, and other indications of their rank, and the
consideration which they expected. In these particulars Lee differed
extremely from his opponents, and there were no evidences whatever,
at his headquarters, that he was the commander-in-chief, or even an
officer of high rank. He uniformly lived in a tent, in spite of
the urgent invitations of citizens to use their houses for his
headquarters; and this refusal was the result both of an indisposition
to expose these gentlemen to annoyance from the enemy when he himself
retired, and of a rooted objection to fare better than his troops.
They had tents only, often indeed were without even that much
covering, and it was repugnant to Lee's feelings to sleep under a good
roof when the troops were so much exposed. His headquarters tent,
at this time (December, 1862), as before and afterward, was what is
called a "house-tent," not differing in any particular from those used
by the private soldiers of the army in winter-quarters. It was pitched
in an opening in the wood near the narrow road leading to Hamilton's
Crossing, with the tents of the officers of the staff grouped near;
and, with the exception of an orderly, who always waited to summon
couriers to carry dispatches, there was nothing in the shape of a
body-guard visible, or any indication that the unpretending group of
tents was the army headquarters.
Within, no article of luxury was to be seen. A few plain and
indispensable objects were all which the tent contained. The covering
of the commander-in-chief was an ordinary army blanket, and his fare
was plainer, perhaps, than that of the majority of his officers and
men. This was the result of an utter indifference, in Lee, to personal
convenience or indulgence. Citizens frequently sent him delicacies,
boxes filled with turkeys, hams, wine, cordials, and other things,
peculiarly tempting to one leading the hard life of the soldier, but
these were almost uniformly sent to the sick in some neighboring
hospital. Lee's principle in so acting seems to have been to set the
good example to his officers of not faring better than their men;
but he was undoubtedly indifferent naturally to luxury of all
descriptions. In his habits and feelings he was not the self-indulgent
man of peace, but the thorough soldier, willing to live hard, to sleep
upon the ground, and to disregard all sensual indulgence. In his other
habits he was equally abstinent. He cared nothing for wine, whiskey,
or any stimulant, and never used tobacco in any form. He rarely
relaxed his energies in any thing calculated to amuse him; but, when
not riding along his lines, or among the camps to see in person that
the troops were properly cared for, generally passed his time in close
attention to official duties connected with the well-being of the
army, or in correspondence with the authorities at Richmond. When he
relaxed from this continuous toil, it was to indulge in some quiet and
simple diversion, social converse with ladies in houses at which he
chanced to stop, caresses bestowed upon children, with whom he was
a great favorite, and frequently in informal conversation with his
officers. At "Hayfield" and "Moss Neck," two hospitable houses below
Fredericksburg, he at this time often stopped and spent some time in
the society of the ladies and children there. One of the latter, a
little curly-headed girl, would come up to him always to receive her
accustomed kiss, and one day confided to him, as a personal friend,
her desire to kiss General Jackson, who blushed like a girl when Lee,
with a quiet laugh, told him of the child's wish. On another occasion,
when his small friend came to receive his caress, he said, laughing,
that she would show more taste in selecting a younger gentleman than
himself, and, pointing to a youthful officer in a corner of the room,
added, "There is the handsome Major Pelham!" which caused that modest
young soldier to blush with confusion. The bearing of General Lee
in these hours of relaxation, was quite charming, and made him warm
friends. His own pleasure and gratification were plain, and gratified
others, who, in the simple and kindly gentleman in the plain gray
uniform, found it difficult to recognize the commander-in-chief of the
Southern army.
These moments of relaxation were, however, only occasional. All the
rest was toil, and the routine of hard work and grave assiduity went
on month after month, and year after year, with little interruption.
With the exceptions which we have noted, all pleasures and
distractions seemed of little interest to Lee, and to the present
writer, at least, he seemed on all occasions to bear the most striking
resemblance to the traditional idea of Washington. High principle and
devotion to duty were plainly this human being's springs of action,
and he went through the hard and continuous labor incident to army
command with a grave and systematic attention, wholly indifferent, it
seemed, to almost every species of diversion and relaxation.
This attempt to show how Lee appeared at that time to his solders, has
extended to undue length, and we shall be compelled to defer a full
notice of the most interesting and beautiful trait of his character.
This was his humble and profound piety. The world has by no means done
him justice upon this subject. No one doubted during the war that
General Lee was a sincere Christian in conviction, and his exemplary
moral character and life were beyond criticism. Beyond this it is
doubtful if any save his intimate associates understood the depth
of his feeling on the greatest of all subjects. Jackson's strong
religious fervor was known and often alluded to, but it is doubtful
if Lee was regarded as a person of equally fervent convictions and
feelings. And yet the fact is certain that faith in God's providence
and reliance upon the Almighty were the foundation of all his actions,
and the secret of his supreme composure under all trials. He was
naturally of such reserve that it is not singular that the extent of
this sentiment was not understood. Even then, however, good men
who frequently visited him, and conversed with him upon religious
subjects, came away with their hearts burning within them. When the
Rev. J. William Jones, with another clergyman, went, in 1863, to
consult him in reference to the better observance of the Sabbath in
the army, "his eye brightened, and his whole countenance glowed with
pleasure; and as, in his simple, feeling words, he expressed his
delight, we forgot the great warrior, and only remembered that we were
communing with an humble, earnest Christian." When he was informed
that the chaplains prayed for him, tears started to his eyes, and he
replied: "I sincerely thank you for that, and I can only say that I
am a poor sinner, trusting in Christ alone, and that I need all the
prayers you can offer for me."
On the day after this interview he issued an earnest general order,
enjoining the observance of the Sabbath by officers and men, urging
them to attend public worship in their camps, and forbidding the
performance on Sunday of all official duties save those necessary
to the subsistence or safety of the army. He always attended public
worship, if it were in his power to do so, and often the earnestness
of the preacher would "make his eye kindle and his face glow." He
frequently attended the meetings of his chaplains, took a warm
interest in the proceedings, and uniformly exhibited, declares one
who could speak from personal knowledge, an ardent desire for the
promotion of religion in the army. He did not fail, on many occasions,
to show his men that he was a sincere Christian. When General Meade
came over to Mine Run, and the Southern army marched to meet him, Lee
was riding along his line of battle in the woods, when he came upon a
party of soldiers holding a prayer-meeting on the eve of battle. Such
a spectacle was not unusual in the army then and afterward--the rough
fighters were often men of profound piety--and on this occasion
the sight before him seems to have excited deep emotion in Lee. He
stopped, dismounted--the staff-officers accompanying him did the
same--and Lee uncovered his head, and stood in an attitude of profound
respect and attention, while the earnest prayer proceeded, in the
midst of the thunder of artillery and the explosion of the enemy's
shells.[1]
[Footnote 1: These details are given on the authority of the Rev. J.
William Jones, of Lexington, Va.]
[Illustration: Lee at the Soldiers' Prayer Meeting.]
Other incidents indicating the simple and earnest piety of Lee will be
presented in the course of this narrative. The fame of the soldier has
in some degree thrown into the background the less-imposing trait of
personal piety in the individual. No delineation of Lee, however,
would be complete without a full statement of his religious principles
and feelings. As the commander-in-chief of the Army of Northern
Virginia, he won that august renown which encircles his name with a
halo of military glory, both in America and Europe. His battles and
victories are known to all men. It is not known to all that the
illustrious soldier whose fortune it was to overthrow, one after
another, the best soldiers of the Federal army, was a simple, humble,
and devoted Christian, whose eyes filled with tears when he was
informed that his chaplains prayed for him; and who said, "I am a poor
sinner, trusting in Christ alone, and need all the prayers you can
offer for me."