After the Fredericksburg campaign the Union forces encamped at Falmouth
for the winter, while Lee remained with the Southern army on the site of
his successful contest at Fredericksburg. Thus the two armies lay facing
each other within hailing distance, across the historic river, waiting for
the coming of spring. Major-General Joseph Hooker, popularly known as
"Fighting Joe" Hooker, who had succeeded Burnside in command of the Army
of the Potomac, soon had the troops on a splendid campaign footing. His
force was between 125,000 and 130,000 men; Lee's, about 60,000.
Hooker conceived a plan of campaign which was ingenious and masterful, and
had he carried it out there would have been a different story to tell
about Chancellorsville. The plan was to deploy a portion of the army to
serve as a decoy to Lee, while the remainder of the host at the same time
occupied the vicinity of Chancellorsville, a country mansion, in the
center of the wilderness that stretched along the Rappahannock.
Lee was a great general and a master in strategy. He had learned of
Hooker's plan and, paying but little attention to Sedgwick east of
Fredericksburg, had turned to face Hooker. By a rapid night march he met
the Union army before it had reached its destination. He was pushed back,
however, by Sykes, of Meade's corps, who occupied the position assigned to
him. Meade was on the left, and Slocum on the right, with adequate support
in the rear. All was in readiness and most favorable for the "certain
destruction" of the Confederates predicted by "Fighting Joe" when, to the
amazement and consternation of all his officers, Hooker ordered the whole
army to retire to the position it had occupied the day before, leaving the
advantage to his opponents.
Lee quickly moved his army into the position thus relinquished, and began
feeling the Federal lines with skirmishers and some cannonading during the
evening of May 1st. By the next morning the two armies were in line of
battle.
The danger in which the Confederate army now found itself was extreme. One
large Federal army was on its front, while another was at its rear, below
Fredericksburg. But Lee threw the hopes of success into one great and
decisive blow at Hooker's host. Dividing an army in the face of the foe is
extremely dangerous and contrary to all accepted theories of military
strategy; but there comes a time when such a course proves the salvation
of the legions in peril. Such was the case at Chancellorsville on May 2,
1863.
At 7 A.M. the cannonading began its death-song and was soon followed by
infantry demonstrations, but without serious results. The action was
continued. Early in the afternoon, Hooker by a ruse was beguiled into the
belief that Lee's army was in full retreat. What Hooker had seen and
believed to be a retreat was the marching of Jackson's forces, about
twenty-six thousand strong, from the battlefield. What he did not see,
however, was that, after a few miles, Jackson turned abruptly and made for
the right flank of the Federal host, the Eleventh Corps, under Howard. It
was after half-past five when Jackson broke from the woods into which he
had marched in a paralyzing charge upon the unprepared troops of Howard.
The approach of this Confederate force was first intimated to the Federals
by the bending of shrubbery, the stampede of rabbits and squirrels, and
the flocks of birds in wild flight, as before a storm. Then appeared a few
skirmishers, then a musket volley, and then the storm broke in all its
fury--the war scream, the rattling musketry, the incessant roar of cannon.
The Confederates fought heroically. The knowledge that "Old Jack" was on
the field was inspiration enough for them. The charge was so precipitous,
so unexpected and terrific that it was impossible for the Federals to hold
their lines and stand against the impact of that awful onslaught which
carried everything before it. The regiments in Jackson's path, resisting
his advance, were cut to pieces and swept along as by a tidal wave, rolled
up like a scroll, multitudes of men, horses, mules, and cattle being piled
in an inextricable mass. Characteristic of Jackson's brilliant and
unexpected movements, it was like an electric flash, knocking the Eleventh
Corps into impotence, as Jackson expected it would. This crowning and
final stroke of Jackson's military genius was not impromptu, but the
result of his own carefully worked-out plan, which had been approved by
Lee.
General Hooker was spending the late afternoon hours in his headquarters
at the Chancellor house. To the eastward there was considerable firing,
where his men were carrying out the plan of striking Lee in flank. Jackson
was retreating, of that he was sure, and Sickles, with Pleasanton's
cavalry and other reënforcements, was in pursuit. Everything seemed to be
going well. About half-past six the sounds of battle grew suddenly louder
and seemed to come from another direction. A staff-officer went to the
front of the house and turned his field-glass toward the west.
"My God, here they come!"
At the startled cry Hooker sprang upon his horse and dashed down the road.
He encountered portions of the Eleventh Corps pouring out of the forest--a
badly mixed crowd of men, wagons, and ambulances. They brought the news
that the right wing was overwhelmed. Hurriedly Hooker sought his old
command, Berry's division of the Third Corps, stationed in support of the
Eleventh. "Forward, with the bayonet!" he commanded.
An officer who witnessed the scene says the division advanced with a firm
and steady step, cleaving the multitude of disbanded Federals as the bow
of a vessel cleaves the waves of the sea. It struck the advance of the
Confederates obliquely and checked it, with the aid of the Twelfth Corps
artillery.
A dramatic, though tragic, feature of the rout was the charge of the
Eighth Pennsylvania cavalry, under Major Keenan, in the face of almost
certain death, to save the artillery of the Third Corps from capture. The
guns rested upon low ground and within reach of the Confederates. The
Federals had an equal opportunity to seize the artillery, but required a
few minutes to prepare themselves for action. The Confederate advance must
be checked for these few moments, and for this purpose Keenan gallantly
led his five hundred cavalrymen into the woods, while his comrades brought
the guns to bear upon the columns in gray. He gained the necessary time,
but lost his life at the head of his regiment, together with Captain
Arrowsmith and Adjutant Haddock, who fell by his side.
The light of day had faded from the gruesome scene. The mighty turmoil was
silenced as darkness gathered, but the day's carnage was not ended. No
camp-fires were lighted in the woods or on the plain. The two hostile
forces were concealed in the darkness, watching through the shadows,
waiting for--they knew not what. Finally at midnight the order "Forward"
was repeated in subdued tones along the lines of Sickles' corps. Out over
the open and into the deep, dark thicket the men in blue pursued their
stealthy advance upon the Confederate position. Then the tragedies of the
night were like that of the day, and the moon shed her peaceful rays down
upon those shadowy figures as they struggled forward through the woods, in
the ravines, over the hillocks. The Federals, at heavy loss, gained the
position, and the engagement assumed the importance of a victory.
It was on this day that death robbed the South of one of her most beloved
warriors. After darkness had overspread the land, Jackson, accompanied by
members of his staff, undertook a reconnaissance of the Federal lines. He
was planning a night attack. He came upon a line of Union infantry lying
on its arms and was forced to turn back along the plank road, on both
sides of which he had stationed his own men with orders to fire upon any
body of men approaching from the direction of the Federal battle-lines.
The little cavalcade of Confederate officers galloped along the highway,
directly toward the ambuscade, and apparently forgetful of the strict
orders left with the skirmishers. A sudden flash of flame lighted the
scene for an instant, and within that space of time the Confederacy was
deprived of one of its greatest captains. Jackson was severely wounded,
and by his own men and through his own orders. When the news spread
through Jackson's corps and through the Confederate army the grief of the
Southern soldiers was heartbreaking to witness. The sorrow spread even
into the ranks of the Federal army, which, while opposed to the wounded
general on many hard-fought battle-grounds, had learned to respect and
admire "Stonewall" Jackson.
The loss of Jackson to the South was incalculable. Lee had pronounced him
the right arm of the whole army. Next to Lee, Jackson was considered the
ablest general in the Confederate army. His shrewdness of judgment, his
skill in strategy, his lightning-like strokes, marked him as a unique and
brilliant leader. Devoutly religious, gentle and noble in character, the
nation that was not to be disunited lost a great citizen, as the
Confederate army lost a great captain, when a few days later General
Jackson died.
That night orders passed from the Federal headquarters to Sedgwick, below
Fredericksburg, eleven miles away. Between him and Hooker stood the
Confederate army, flushed with its victories of the day. Immediately in
his front was Fredericksburg, with a strong guard of Southern warriors.
Beyond loomed Marye's Heights, the battle-ground on which Burnside had in
the preceding winter left so many of his brave men in the vain endeavor to
drive the Confederate defenders from the crest.
The courageous Sedgwick, notwithstanding the formidable obstacles that lay
on the road to Chancellorsville, responded immediately to Hooker's order.
He was already on the south side of the river, but he was farther away
than Hooker supposed. Shortly after midnight he began a march that was
fraught with peril and death. Strong resistance was offered the advancing
blue columns as they came to the threshold of Fredericksburg, but they
swept on and over the defenders, and at dawn were at the base of the
heights. On the crest waved the standards of the Confederate Washington
Artillery. At the foot of the slope was the stone wall before which the
Federals had fought and died but a few months before, in the battle of
Fredericksburg. Reenforcements were arriving in the Confederate trenches
constantly. The crest and slopes bristled with cannon and muskets. The
pathways around the heights were barricaded. The route to the front seemed
blocked; still, the cry for help from Hooker was resounding in the ears of
Sedgwick.
Gathering his troops, he attacked directly upon the stone wall and on up
the hillside, in the face of a terrific storm of artillery and musketry.
The first assault failed; a flank movement met with no better success; and
the morning was nearly gone when the Confederates finally gave way at the
point of the bayonet before the irresistible onset of men in blue. The way
to Chancellorsville was open; but the cost to the Federals was appalling.
Hundreds of the soldiers in blue lay wrapped in death upon the bloody
slopes of Marye's Heights.
It was the middle of the afternoon, and not at daybreak, as Hooker had
directed, when Sedgwick appeared in the rear of Lee's legions. A strong
force of Confederates under Early prevented his further advance toward a
juncture with Hooker's army at Chancellorsville. Since five o'clock in
the morning the battle had been raging at the latter place, and Jackson's
men, now commanded by Stuart, though being mowed down in great numbers,
vigorously pressed the attack of the day while crying out to one another
"Remember Jackson," as they thought of their wounded leader.
While this engagement was at its height General Hooker, leaning against a
pillar of the Chancellor house, was felled to the ground, and for a moment
it was thought he was killed. The pillar had been shattered by a
cannon-ball. Hooker soon revived under the doctor's care and with great
force of will he mounted his horse and showed himself to his anxious
troops. He then withdrew his army to a stronger position, well guarded
with artillery. The Confederates did not attempt to assail it. The third
day's struggle at Chancellorsville was finished by noon, except in Lee's
rear, where Sedgwick fought all day, without success, to reach the main
body of Hooker's army. The Federals suffered very serious losses during
this day's contest. Even then it was believed that the advantage rested
with the larger Army of the Potomac and that the Federals had an
opportunity to win. Thirty-seven thousand Union troops, the First, and
three-quarters of the Fifth Corps, had been entirely out of the fight on
that day. Five thousand men of the Eleventh Corps, who were eager to
retrieve their misfortune, were also inactive.
When night came, and the shades of darkness hid the sights of suffering on
the battlefield, the Federal army was resting in a huge curve, the left
wing on the Rappahannock and the right on the Rapidan. In this way the
fords across the rivers which led to safety were in control of the Army of
the Potomac. Lee moved his corps close to the bivouacs of the army in
blue. But, behind the Confederate battle-line, there was a new factor in
the struggle in the person of Sedgwick, with the remnants of his gallant
corps, which had numbered nearly twenty-two thousand when they started for
the front, but now were depleted by their terrific charge upon Marye's
Heights and the subsequent hard and desperate struggle with Early in the
afternoon.
Lee was between two fires--Hooker in front and Sedgwick in the rear, both
of whose forces were too strong to be attacked simultaneously. Again the
daring leader of the Confederate legions did the unexpected, and divided
his army in the presence of the foe, though he was without the aid of his
great lieutenant, "Stonewall" Jackson.
During the night Lee made his preparations, and when dawn appeared in the
eastern skies the movement began. Sedgwick, weak and battered by his
contact with Early on the preceding afternoon, resisted bravely, but to no
avail, and the Confederates closed in upon him on three sides, leaving the
way to Banks's Ford on the Rappahannock open to escape. Slowly the
Federals retreated and, as night descended, rested upon the river bank.
After dark the return to the northern side was begun by Sedgwick's men,
and the Chancellorsville campaign was practically ended.
The long, deep trenches full of Federal and Confederate dead told the
awful story of Chancellorsville. If we gaze into these trenches, which by
human impulse we are led to do, after the roar and din of the carnage is
still, the scene greeting the eye will never be forgotten. Side by side,
the heroes in torn and bloody uniforms, their only shrouds, were gently
laid.
The Union loss in killed and wounded was a little over seventeen thousand,
and it cost the South thirteen thousand men to gain this victory on the
banks of the Rappahannock. The loss to both armies in officers was very
heavy.
The two armies were weary and more than decimated. It appeared that both
were glad at the prospect of a cessation of hostilities. On the night of
May 5th, in a severe storm, Hooker conveyed his corps safely across the
river and settled the men again in their cantonments of the preceding
winter at Falmouth. The Confederates returned to their old encampment at
Fredericksburg.
[Illustration: A MAN OF WHOM MUCH WAS EXPECTED