Most folks don’t realize it, but the Battle of Chancellorsville — Lee’s greatest and perhaps costliest victory — was born at the Battle of Fredericksburg some five months before.
General Ambrose Burnside had launched what would be one of the most audacious attacks in Federal history. The Army of the Potomac finally felt like an army again, after having drudged through the mud and swamp of the 1862 Peninsula Campaign and coming within miles of Richmond, only to be turned back by “Granny Lee” — a general who proved less a grandmother and more a Hannibal reborn.
Both Burnside and Lee studied from the same era of warfare that not only glorified the Napoleonic set battlefield, but also glorified the ancients. Not since the days of Rome were the armies of Western civilization fielding such massive numbers. Long gone were the assumptions that a field army could only rise to the level of 70,000 men. Railroads and steamboats augmented with Napoleonic-era innovations had swelled Western armies to three fold this size. Logistics rather than mere force became the elegance of modern combat. Modern techniques combined with an ancient battle ethos would now rule the day.
Burnside knew this above all else.
Even the most abstract student of the Civil War (commonly referred to simply as “the War” by Fredericksburg natives even today) knows the narrative at the Battle of Fredericksburg. Plagued by Burnside’s resistance to take Marye Heights and the lack of pontoon boats, the Federal armies looted and pillaged Fredericksburg before crossing Kenmore Street nee Canal and dying in droves at the walls of the Sunken Road, thus forever enshrining Confederate General James Longstreet in the history books as the forerunner of trench warfare and giving Lee his greatest defensive victory and epic line: “It is well that war is so terrible, lest we should grow too fond of it.”
Only the Battle of Fredericksburg didn’t happen at Marye Heights… it happened a mile down the road at Prospect Hill.
Like Lee and his generals, Burnside too was taught of the great battles of antiquity. Cannae was the epitome of total destruction — encirclement and capitulation. Lee knew this. Longstreet knew this. Lt. General Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson knew this above all, the great general of the Valley Campaign in 1862 knew that a war of movement could propel smaller numbers against greater. Burnside knew this as well… and what better anchor for the Confederate armies to tie themselves to than Marye Heights — an “impregnable” and commanding hill that Burnside knew Longstreet would tie himself to like an anchor.
Burnside knew his history. He feinted at the heights; he threw his legions against Jackson two miles south of Fredericksburg.
…and Jackson’s lines broke.
* * *
Of course, we all know the results. Longstreet held. Lee refused to send reinforcements to Marye Heights and kept his cool. While Federal soldiers — replaceable Irishmen mostly — died in steady numbers, in a rarely told story about the Battle of Fredericksburg it was “Stonewall” Jackson who almost cost the Confederacy the war.
Had Burnside been successful that day, Federal troops could very well have swept around Fredericksburg in strength, pinning the Confederates against Marye Heights and the Rappahannock River to the north. Such a loss would have crippled the Confederacy; Brompton may very well have been the parlor where Lee surrendered, and Appomatox remained a sleepy courthouse town somewhere south of the James River.
Instead, Burnside was sacked for the monumental stupidity of throwing his men to certain death at the Sunken Road, not to mention the ignominy of burning and looting the childhood home of George Washington himself. From Chatham Manor, Burnside attempted to regain the initiative with the “Mud March” of January 1863… but not before it failed in rain and muck. Lincoln had no choice but to sack yet another commander. Burnside’s reputation was small price to pay, for the honor of the Army of the Potomac could restore its laurels on the field…
* * *
General Thomas Hooker was famous for his women. Hooker was also famous for getting the job done.
If Burnside was to be given credit for clearing the Army of the Potomac of its bureaucracy of political appointees, it would be Hooker that made the Federals feel like an army again. Flags were unfurled, rations made better, systems of organization and discipline unveiled and enforced. The laxity which made McClellan so loved would no longer be tolerated — an army was going to march on Lee, and break the back of the Rebel armies once and for all.
Burnside was transferred to Ohio; Longstreet shadowed him. Hooker had a golden moment to smash Lee once and for all. Outnumbering Lee by a factor of 2:1 with Lee deprived of his “old war horse” it would be Hooker’s turn to envelop Lee in a colossal Cannae of his own, crossing the Germanna Ford and using the Plank Road as a means to rush in and smash Lee before he knew Hooker had crossed in force.
The objective? Chancellorsville. More of a crossroads than a town, it featured a large home and a clear shot to Fredericksburg proper and the heights beyond — no Sunken Road, but a gentle slope that would push the Confederates into the waiting arms of a smaller force occupying Fredericksburg… and hopefully Marye Heights themselves. Lee remants — should Hooker somehow be unsuccessful in capturing the entire Army of Northern Virginia — would be forced to retreat south towards his redoubt at the North Anna River… where Federal artillery would make short work of undermanned defenses.
Richmond was within reach. Hooker could smell it.
The Army of the Potomac marched.
* * *
The evening of May 1st gave the Confederate armies unexpected news.
Stonewall Jackson saw his moment. J.E.B. Stuart knew that the Federal armies had made incredible progress over the last few days, but Lee successfully stopped the Federal advance towards Fredericksburg. Federal commanders, rather than pressing their attack, chose the unthinkable in the mind of Stonewall Jackson: they dug in.
Historians debate as to why Hooker would dig in while another commander — Grant — would have pursued the attack. The wrong lessons had been drawn from Fredericksburg, and the Federal narrative to save face for the Army of the Potomac and smash Burnside’s reputation allowed Washington to believe its own rhetoric. Hooker would indeed dig in. Lee would have no choice but to throw Hooker out, as his presence at Chancellorsville would pose a strategic threat not only to Richmond, but to the Valley and the precious rail junctions of Orange and Gordonsville.
Hooker could not be allowed to consolidate. Jackson — like Lee, like Burnside, and like Hooker — saw his Carthaginian moment. The Romans were in the field… and they would be smashed in turn.
Jackson would furtively tap the map with his finger. Lee would nod, needing to be convinced. Stuart would emphasize what everyone understood — the Yankees were in no position to hold Chancellorsville now, but if offered the chance could consolidate their presence and force Lee’s hand. One massive blow might not only evict the Federal armies from Chancellorsville, but pin the remnants between Ely’s Ford and Fredericksburg. There, as every local boy knows, the Rappahannock River settles between cliffs as high as 40 feet or more in places…
Under a less able commander, such a move that would take a commander that could march his men 100 miles in 3 days. A general that could move 28,000 men in broad daylight secretly, then execute a perfectly timed attack. General Lee may have sighed heavily. 13,000 men against 70,000 Federals? What if they attacked? Was Hooker that kind of man? Or would he sit and wait?
The generals in grey surrounding the map knew the answer to their own questions. It was a roll of the dice for these Southern gentlemen, but the dice were loaded.
Jackson was made for this moment. Lee recognized his opportunity. Hooker sat… and waited.
In the early morning on May 2nd, 1863, Jackson would throw 28,000 men at Hooker’s exposed rear flank. Lee would provide the anvil; Jackson the hammer. Hooker’s plan had been turned back on him. Varro was in the field; Hannibal had his Cannae.
* * *
For two miles, 11 brigades waited in the Wilderness; flags furled, voices silent, feet tired. But everyone knew the opportunity.
Hooker’s eyes were not to his rear, but to his right. Hooker had ordered that preparations be made, that Jackson may very well be looking to turn his flank. Hooker settled in… and waited… and waited… and assumed that Lee was doing precisely as he planned Lee would do: retreat. The numbers were heading towards protecting Richmond’s vital lifeline at Gordonsville. Hooker preened and crowed — Lee had indeed been vanquished, and Hooker would not learn similar lessons as Burnside did at Fredericksburg. Besides, weren’t Federal armies on the verge of succeeding at Second Fredericksburg where Burnside had failed — Sedgewick preparing to take the Marye Heights from Jubal Early? History — not naysayers — would be Hooker’s judge.
The afternoon of May 2nd, Hooker was the greatest general since Napoleon Bonaparte.
* * *
There is nothing more blood curdling than a Rebel Yell given on an empty stomach and a full run.
It is even more chilling when you are eating dinner.
At 5:15pm on May 2nd, Jackson gave the order to advance. Yet the Rebel Yell was not sounded — Jackson’s orders were firm.
Federal soldiers first heard a rush. The next clue that something was wrong was a charge — not of bayonets, but of rabbit and deer.
Then came the rebels… then came the Yell. Within minutes, the entire XI Corps was smashed within minutes. The next Federal corps would meet a wall of rabbit, deer, and blue jackets… before meeting the oncoming rush of Jackson’s Foot Cavalry.
The Battle of Chancellorsville was not finished. Stonewall Jackson urged his men to press on.
Remnants of XI Corps rushed into Chancellorsville itself as General Hancock — often described as a good general surrounded by mediocre ones — rescued the lines from total collapse while Hooker was regaining his composure. The “retreating” army was the attack after all. Hooker quickly reinforced his position and brought up III Corps from his right flank and attempted to outflank the oncoming Confederates himself. Jackson’s lines intermingled and paused, while A.P. Hill’s division came up into formation. Jackson was adamant — press on!
Hill resisted, but Jackson — an artillerist famous for having his commands executed to the letter — would point towards the sun and urge Hill to press. The next three hours from 6:30pm to 9:30pm would be the bloodiest of the battle. Jackson fought back to Lee’s lines, linking up with his commander and uniting the Confederate armies. Hooker’s Army of the Potomac had been cut in two. General Stuart peppered Federal lines. Confederate cannon were targeting Chancellorsville itself. A cannonball hit a column and incapacitated Hooker, who refused to relinquish full command.
Hooker ordered the Army of the Potomac to do what it did best… fall back and retreat. By sunset, Lee and the Army of Northern Virginia were at Chancellorsville.
At 8:30pm, Jackson would issue his final order to A.P. Hill:
“Press them, cut them off from the United States Ford (over the Rappahannock), Hill; press them.”
Yet three events would conspire against this Cannae from completing itself. First, the disarray of the Confederate lines and the hesitation of A.P. Hill to execute his orders meant that the Federals would have time to regroup and withdraw. Second, Sedgewick had indeed pushed Early off the Marye Heights, thus exposing Lee’s rear flank and forcing Lee to send reinforcements towards Salem Church. Lastly, the sun defiantly set over western Spotsylvania County…
…and in the darkness, it was exceedingly difficult to tell friend from foe.
* * *
Two months later, General Ewell would be in command of General Jackson’s Second Corps on the evening of July 1st. Jackson’s Foot Cavalry would be gnawing on hardtack and listening to a sound almost as chilling as a Rebel Yell.
It would be the sound of shovels and pickaxes, working away at Cemetary Hill. Federal shovels. Federal pickaxes. Filled with Federal soldiers, ready for the next day.
The town would be Gettysburg. Perhaps Ewell misunderstood Lee’s instructions to take Cemetary Hill “if practical” earlier that afternoon? Ewell waited… and with the initiative lost, thousands would die the next day trying to take Cemetary Hill, without success.
* * *
On July 3rd, Federal troops would taunt Pickett’s men with cries of “Fredericksburg! Fredericksburg! Fredericksburg!” as they limped and bled back to Longstreet’s lines. Why did Longstreet wait? What was he waiting for? This question has gnawed at historians for decades, and it was General Jubal Early’s first line of attack after Lee passed away to insist that Longstreet cost the South “the War” at Gettysburg waiting until 4pm rather than executing his attack at noon — as Jackson might have done.
So what was Longstreet waiting for?
Longstreet — like his fellow officers — was a student of history…
Longstreet was waiting for Stuart’s cavalry to meet him in the center. Longstreet was waiting for Cannae, and until Stewart’s banners were seen at the top of the crest where Confederate artillery was pounding away at weakened Federal lines, Pickett’s Charge could not commence… it could not fail as A.P. Hill’s charge failed at Chancellorsville. It could not fail as Federal troops failed at Fredericksburg to break Jackson’s lines seven months earlier at Fredericksburg, when one Union corps very nearly broke Jackson’s lines and encircled the entire Army of Northern Virginia.
And who precisely was that general that almost gave Burnside victory at Fredericksburg? General Gordon Meade, Army of the Potomac commanding.
Longstreet and the Confederate generals could see clearly where Federal politicians could not. They drew the right lessons from Fredericksburg that gave them Chancellorsville. The Federal generals were too entrenched, too wedded to the politicians and public opinion, to learn. Or so Lee and Longstreet believed… and if the Army of the Potomac was not lead by Meade, and if the men at Cemetery Ridge that day were not Hancock’s II Corps– the same man who rallied the Federal soldiers at Chancellorsville — Gettysburg might have ended very differently.
* * *
Longstreet very much had Jackson on his mind that July afternoon. Longstreet was a different commander — he preferred entrenchment rather than maneuver. Longstreet could see the battlefields of the Somme and the carnage of the First World War. Longstreet knew that battles such as Cannae were wars of a distant time, and though Longstreet was a man of the 19th century, Lee’s old war horse could see that Cannae’s would be costly — very costly — in modern combat.
Yet Chancellorsville would enshrine both Lee and Jackson — and Stuart as well — in the pantheon of great American generals. As the first half of the 20th century ground down into trench warfare, thus proving Longstreet correct about the immediate nature of modern combat, in the 1930s the Washington Hotel in Fredericksburg would attract different sorts of officers looking to reintroduce movement into combat.
One of the more famous officers visiting Fredericksburg? Erwin Rommel.
Yet in one of life’s more enduring twists, God saw fit to make sure that Fredericksburg had it’s own native sons to remember the lessons of Stonewall Jackson. His name? General George S. Patton — as the Pattons and Goolrick families are natives to Fredericksburg, Patton’s grandfather and great uncle both serving in the Confederate Army, and Patton himself a student at the Virginia Military Institute, a later graduate of the United States Military Academy at West Point, and an avid student of Stonewall Jackson himself.
* * *
Civil War historians will often try to pinpoint the exact place where the “high tide” of the Confederacy really was. Gettysburg is often the case in point. Even with a smashing Confederate victory at Gettysburg, Grant would have followed it up with the collapse of Vicksburg. Would Lincoln simply have quit the war? Or would he have removed the government, untied his other hand from behind his back, and mobilized the Union for total war in the last two years of his presidency? The latter is likely, but speculative… Lee vs. Grant may very well have occurred in the fall of 1863 rather than in the summer of 1864.
Others will point back to Atlanta. Some insist on Petersburg, though the Confederacy at that point was fighting for pride rather than victory. Others will say Fredericksburg, because it was the last shining victory with the Lee’s trusted generals — Longstreet and Jackson — by his side.
Chancellorsville earns consideration for one reason and one reason alone: the death of Stonewall Jackson.
Jackson, unlike Ewell, would have taken Cemetery Hill — and thought Gettysburg may not have been fought as a result, Jackson would have pressed on.
Jackson, unlike Early, would have taken Washington in 1864 when Early lost his nerve during “Jubal’s Raid” — thus earning for himself the calumny he heaped upon Longstreet after Lee’s death permitted him that latitude.
Jackson, unlike Hill and Ewell, would not have been content to allow Grant to use the riverboats as resupply lines — thus refusing to make the same mistake that Hooker did in 1863. Aquia Harbor would have been raided. No depot would have been safe from Jackson’s Foot Cavalry…
Stonewall Jackson had a talent for warfare. His death at Chancellorsville truly did rob Lee of his right arm, even as Jackson struggled from the pneumonia and shock after amputating his left. There is a reason why Jackson’s deathbed remains a shrine, just off of the Thornburg exit on I-95, and visited by thousands — and not just young officers on working vacations.
Jackson’s legacy as a commander, his peculiarities as a professor, his conviction as a practicing Christian, his contradictions as a slaveowner, his efforts to educate blacks in Lexington — to the point of arguably breaking long-standing Virginia law — are commendable in their own right. Jackson’s own persona and his personality rubbed off on his men, whether it was the Stonewall Brigade or the Second Corps of the Army of Northern Virginia. Jackson was not always brilliant — his conduct in the Seven Days Campaign was lackluster and mediocre at best — but when Jackson was brilliant, he was phenomenal.
It is easy to see why the South loved the man. It is easy to see why Jackson’s death at Chancellorsville would be the moment that Southern defiance and military prowess began to exhale. Chancellorsville remains one of the most brilliant American victories ever achieved — against superior numbers and a determined foe.
150 years after the battle, it’s important to remember why we remember these men and why they fought. Stonewall Jackson and Chancellorsville deserve their place in American history in its full context, bracketed by both Southern victory at Fredericksburg and defeat at Gettysburg.
In turn, the Union victory at Gettysburg would not have been possible if not for Meade’s near-breakthrough at Fredericksburg and Hancock’s rescue of the Federal lines at Chancellorsville. Together, they outmatched and outgeneraled Robert E. Lee — who though with his war horse, had lost his right.
