Calamity at Chancellorsville Read online

  4 William McLaughlin, Ceremonies Connected with the Unveiling of the Bronze Statue of Gen. Thomas J. (Stonewall) Jackson at Lexington, Virginia, July 21, 1891 (Baltimore, MD, 1891), 35.

  5 James I. Robertson, Stonewall Jackson: The Man, The Soldier, The Legend (New York, NY, 1997), 175. Jackson and Anna Morrison married on July 16, 1857. His first wife had been Elinor Junkin, whom he married on August 4, 1853. Elinor, or “Ellie,” as she was called, died of a hemorrhage following childbirth on October 22, 1854.

  6 Their first child, Mary Graham, was born on April 30, 1858. Julia Laura was born on November 23, 1862.

  7 Mary Anna Jackson, Life and Letters of General Thomas J. Jackson (New York, NY, 1892), 423.

  8 Ibid., 426.

  9 Ibid., 423; Henry Kyd Douglas, I Rode with Stonewall (Chapel Hill, NC, 1940), 217 218.

  10 J. William Jones, Christ in Camp or Religion in Lee’s Army (Richmond, VA, 1887), 96; Jackson, Life and Letters, 424-425.

  11 Jones, Christ in Camp, 488; Jackson, Life and Letters, 425.

  12 Ibid., 422; Douglas, I Rode With Stonewall, 214; Roberta C. Kinsolving, “Memories of Moss Neck in the Winter of 1862-63,” Confederate Veteran (CV) (January 1912), 26. The girl was Janie Corbin, who lived at the house in Moss Neck where Jackson had spent the winter prior to moving to Hamilton’s Crossing. Jackson became quite attached to the little girl, but shortly after he moved to Hamilton’s Crossing, Janie died of scarlet fever. When told of the child’s fate, Douglas wrote that Jackson “was much moved and wept freely.”

  13 Jackson, Life and Letters, 427.

  14 Anna Jackson, “Last Days,” in Dabney-Jackson Collection, box 2, Library of Virginia (LVA).

  15 Jackson, Life and Letters, 430.

  16 John D. Imboden, “Incidents of First Bull Run,” Battles and Leaders of the Civil War (B&L), 4 vols. (New York, NY, 1884-1887), vol. 1, pt. 1, 238.

  17 William J. Seymour, The Civil War Memoirs of Captain William J. Seymour. Reminiscences of a Louisiana Tiger, ed. Terry L. Jones (Baton Rouge, LA, 1991), 49.

  Chapter Two

  We Will Attack Them

  Neither a town nor a village, Chancellorsville was a sizable two-and-a-half story brick house, along with several outbuildings, which sat at the intersection of Ely’s Ford Road and the Orange Turnpike. In 1813, a group of investors had developed a 36-mile toll road from Orange Court House, Virginia, east to Fredericksburg. Three years later, in order to accommodate travelers on the new turnpike, George Chancellor built a large tavern ten miles west of Fredericksburg and ambitiously named the area Chancellorsville. At the height of its status, the tavern contained a post office and was considered by many to be “one of the most celebrated houses in Virginia.” Upon George Chancellor’s death in 1836, his widow turned operation of the inn over to other family members until her own death in 1860, after which the family shut the tavern down to travelers. When the battle started in 1863, Frances Chancellor, daughter of the widow Chancellor, was living in the house with her own son and six daughters.1

  Photograph of an intersection along the Orange Plank Road. Wood planks buried in the roadway are visible in the foreground.

  Library of Congress

  * * *

  Wagoners had found the original 1813 turnpike surface difficult to traverse due to its thick red clay that became almost glue-like when wet. Subsequent attempts to improve road conditions by adding a macadamized, or crushed stone, surface were largely unsuccessful. In the 1850s, another group of investors sought to improve the route by building an all-weather lane consisting of wooden planks buried just beneath the road surface. This newly constructed path, renamed the Orange Plank Road (or the Plank Road, as it was more often called), followed the original turnpike right-of-way except in two places where it diverged in order to take advantage of easier grades. The new and old roads ran as one for six miles west out of Fredericksburg until the Plank Road looped slightly south, paralleling the original path, which became known as the Old Turnpike. Converging again at Chancellorsville, the roads again ran as one for another two miles before splitting a second time at Wilderness Church, a white-painted Baptist structure sitting in a clearing 150 yards north of the divide. The roads then remained separate for the remaining distance from Wilderness Church to Orange Court House. For several miles on each side of Chancellorsville, the Plank Road and the Old Turnpike traveled through a 70-square-mile area of dense trees and thick, tangled underbrush known as the Wilderness of Spotsylvania or, more simply, the Wilderness.

  Four miles north of Chancellorsville, the easterly flowing Rapidan River empties into the Rappahannock, which then continues on a bending, 14-mile course southeast to Fredericksburg. During the Civil War, two primary crossings over the Rappahannock existed at Banks’ Ford, five miles west of Fredericksburg, and United States (U.S.) Ford, located a short distance north of the Chancellor house. Northwest of Chancellorsville, the Rapidan River had crossings at Ely’s Ford and six miles farther to the west at Germanna Ford. The Orange Plank Road, the Old Turnpike, and the roads from Ely’s and U.S. Fords all converged at Chancellorsville, making the location a critical access point into Fredericksburg from the west.

  * * *

  General Joe Hooker had developed a sound plan to defeat the Confederates, one that would meet with initial success. He intended to move the bulk of his forces to Chancellorsville and thus into the rear of Lee’s army while simultaneously threatening a direct assault west out of Fredericksburg. If successful, the Confederates would be trapped in a vise, with a retreat south as their only means of escape.

  The first step in Hooker’s plan was to send Maj. Gen. George Stoneman’s cavalry force south to disrupt Lee’s communication and supply lines along the Richmond, Fredericksburg & Potomac Railroad. Two weeks later on April 27, Hooker put the rest of his plan in motion by sending three Union corps on a long flanking march across the Rappahannock 30 miles north of Fredericksburg. Once across the river, the force split in two and headed south toward Chancellorsville. Half of the army then crossed the Rapidan at Germanna Ford while the other half crossed at Ely’s Ford. It took the Confederates two days to detect the Union movement, and by the time they discovered it on April 29, nearly 40,000 enemy soldiers were successfully across the Rappahannock.

  To create a diversion from the flanking movement taking place to the north, Hooker sent two Union divisions across pontoon bridges below Fredericksburg at Franklin’s Crossing and Fitzhugh’s Crossing. Hoping to trick Lee into believing the main attack was occurring at this point, Union forces crossed the river on the foggy morning of April 29—the day Jackson had been aroused from sleep—and began engaging the Confederates around Fredericksburg. The following day, Hooker sent another Union corps across the Rappahannock at U.S. Ford to join the main army that was now assembling at Chancellorsville.

  Over a period of several days, Hooker managed to place four Union corps, roughly 70,000 men, in Lee’s rear at Chancellorsville, while leaving another two corps at Fredericksburg to threaten the Confederate front. At that point, Joe Hooker was pleased with himself and his army. He had placed the Rebels in a vise, and all he needed to do was close it. True to character, on April 30, he imprudently sent General Order No. 47 to the Army of the Potomac, stating, “[T]he operations of the last three days have determined that our enemy must either ingloriously fly, or come out from behind his defenses and give battle on our own ground, where certain destruction awaits him.”2

  Since taking command in the summer of 1862, Robert E. Lee had transformed the Army of Northern Virginia into an effective and confident military force that other Union generals had learned the hard way not to underestimate. A West Point graduate and career army officer, the 56-year-old Lee seemed to possess the uncanny ability to read the minds of his opponents. When Ambrose Burnside was appointed as the new commander of the Army of the Potomac prior to the battle of Fredericksburg in December 1862, Lee dryly commented to Lt. Gen. James Longstreet, “I fear they may continue to make these changes
till they find someone whom I don’t understand.”3

  Although Lee was never tricked into believing the advance below Fredericksburg was the primary assault, he had uncharacteristically allowed Hooker to seize the advantage by amassing a force of superior size behind his position. He now had a choice to make: withdraw quietly, or fight it out—on one or, quite possibly, two fronts. It was an easy decision for Lee in the end, as it was not in his nature to “ingloriously fly” from the field and leave without a fight. He decided to accept Hooker’s challenge and give the bombastic general a chance to live up to his “Fighting Joe” nickname. Lee’s response would involve an aggressive battle plan that fully employed the military talents of Stonewall Jackson, his trusted lieutenant.

  * * *

  Early on Thursday morning, April 30, Jackson was making arrangements for breaking camp in preparation of the upcoming battle. “Hold my horse,” he instructed his servant, Jim Lewis, as he entered his headquarters tent and closed the flap. Lewis was a slave whom Jackson had hired from William Lewis of Lexington at the start of the war to work as his camp orderly. Described by one of Jackson’s staff as “brave and big-hearted,” Lewis was a beloved figure among the general’s inner circle, and was one of the few individuals Jackson allowed to openly question his wishes. On one occasion during the battle of Fredericksburg, Jackson had instructed the servant to saddle his favorite horse, “Little Sorrel.” Jim had protested, saying the animal had been ridden in battle the previous day and needed rest. “An amusing war of words passed between them,” Anna Jackson wrote, “but Jim had it in his power to gain the victory, and brought out another horse, which the general mounted, and rode off.”4

  By this time in the war, Little Sorrel was almost as distinctive in the Confederate army as Jackson. Originally purchased in 1861 as a present for Anna, Jackson had found the horse’s gait so smooth that he declared, “A seat on him was like being rocked in a cradle.” Described by one staffer as a “natural pacer with little action and no style,” Little Sorrel did not fit the mold of the prototypical “war-horse.” Small in stature at only 15 hands tall, (five feet at the shoulder) the horse was noted for its calmness and remarkable endurance on long marches. Soldiers were often surprised to watch the horse “lie down like a dog” and rest when Jackson dismounted during pauses in a march.5

  A commotion of camp activity broke out after Jackson had entered his tent, prompting Lewis to raise his hand and call out, “Hush. The general is at prayer.” An immediate silence descended over the area. Fifteen minutes later, a confident Jackson emerged from the tent, jumped on his horse, and set off to find Lee.6

  The weather was cool, with a slight drizzle falling, and General Lee, who was suffering from what his physicians termed rheumatism, was conducting business from inside his tent near Fredericksburg. Before long, Jackson arrived and went inside to report on the enemy’s movement below the city. The two generals soon emerged from the tent, mounted their horses, and rode back to the ridge overlooking the Rappahannock to better survey the situation below Fredericksburg.

  Peering through the haze, Lee and Jackson observed the enemy’s crossing and the formidable Union artillery placements on the opposite river bank. Recognizing that most of the Federal army had been removed from this line for the advance on Chancellorsville, Jackson wanted to attack the Union forces here, as the Confederates now had an advantage in numbers. Lee thought otherwise. Pointing to the strong artillery positions across the river, he said, “It would be hard to get at the enemy and harder to get away if we drove him into the river.” Ever confident in Jackson’s abilities, however, Lee added, “But, General, if you think it can be done, I will give orders for it.” Jackson paused a moment before answering. He considered Lee a “phenomenon,” and had once remarked how the distinguished southern commander was “the only man whom I would follow blindfold.” If Lee was questioning the success of an attack, the situation undoubtedly deserved more consideration. Jackson asked the commanding general if he could have more time to examine the ground before making a decision. Lee agreed and turned back toward headquarters while Jackson rode off into the mist for further reconnaissance.7

  The morning fog lifted around noon, offering Jackson a clear view of the enemy’s position. His opinion aligned with that of Lee as he examined the area from several angles, so he resigned himself to the reality that a strike against the Federal forces would have to occur on different ground. Anticipating that ground would be around Chancellorsville, Jackson wanted quick and detailed information of the area. He immediately sent for his resourceful and talented mapmaker, Jedediah Hotchkiss.

  Hotchkiss was a Virginia geologist and school teacher who, despite never receiving an actual commission in the Confederate army, had been serving as the topographical engineer on Jackson’s staff for over a year. Hotchkiss was working in his tent when he received a message that the general wanted to see him. Arriving at the front, he was instructed by Jackson to “strike off eight maps” of the region west of Fredericksburg between the Rapidan and Rappahannock rivers and another one extending 35 miles west to the town of Stevensburg, Virginia.8

  Jackson then returned to Lee’s headquarters with his assessment of a strike below Fredericksburg: “It would be inexpedient to attack there,” Jackson acknowledged. Lee in the meantime had devised another plan. Contrary to military principles, he intended to split his smaller army in the face of the larger enemy. His risky plan called for 10,000 men to guard what effectively would become the Confederate rear at Fredericksburg while he swung the bulk of his army west to confront Hooker’s massive force at Chancellorsville. Lee instructed Jackson to leave one division at Fredericksburg and move his remaining corps at dawn to the Orange Plank Road, where he was to “make arrangements to repulse the enemy.”9

  * * *

  Stonewall Jackson was the embodiment of a warrior. A stickler for military discipline and regulations, he believed “the business of the soldier is to fight.” In March of 1861, as the furor over secession and possible war raged among cadets at the Virginia Military Institute, Jackson addressed a group of fiery students with the words, “The time for war has not yet come, but it will come, and that soon; and when it does come, my advice is to draw the sword and throw away the scabbard.” Those who knew Jackson often spoke of how his steely-blue eyes would “flash” with excitement at the time of battle, and the various health issues that seemed to plague him during periods of inactivity were curiously absent when fighting was near. Having received Lee’s instructions to move out the next morning, a “smiling and elated” Jackson was in high spirits on the evening of April 30 as he anticipated the upcoming battle.10

  In camp that night at Hamilton’s Crossing, Tucker Lacy commented that there was talk of the Confederates withdrawing. “Who said that?” Jackson shot back. “No sir, we have not thought of retreat, we will attack them.” He then asked Lacy to come inside his tent so the two could speak privately.11

  Prior to serving as chaplain for the Second Corps, Lacy had been pastor of the Fredericksburg Presbyterian Church and had knowledge of the area’s geography—information Jackson desperately needed. He asked Lacy whether he knew the roads leading to Chancellorsville, and listened intently while the pastor described three routes.

  “Could you guide a column there in daylight,” Jackson asked, “or could you get me guides?”12

  Lacy thought one of the Yerby boys would serve as the best guide. Agreeing with the pastor, Jackson welcomed the opportunity to pay a visit to the family, as he had not seen them in several days and was unsure when he would have another chance. By the time Jackson and Lacy arrived at Belvoir, however, the Yerbys were already in bed. Out of respect for the family, Jackson refused to have them awakened, and instead headed back to camp.

  Three nights shy of full, the moon softly illuminated the road as Jackson and Lacy walked back to camp. As the two talked, Jackson expressed concern that Union forces would attack the small Rebel force guarding the roads between Fredericksburg a
nd Chancellorsville near a structure called Zoan Church. Sitting on high ground seven miles west of Fredericksburg, the area around the church was currently occupied by forces under the command of Confederate Maj. Gen. Richard H. Anderson. The position was vital to Lee’s strategy, and if Hooker occupied the ridge before Jackson could reinforce Anderson the next day, the entire Confederate battle plan would be in jeopardy.

  “Why not march up tonight?” Lacy asked, “The moon is bright.”13

  Jackson thought for a moment. He generally did not like to march troops at night, but, looking around the moonlit landscape, he began to consider the option. Once Lacy assured him that more guides could be found to lead the troops at night, Jackson decided to commence the movement early. He sent Lacy off to recruit the guides while he began to notify his division commanders to prepare to move before dawn.

  1 Noel G. Harrison, Chancellorsville Battlefield Sites (Lynchburg, VA, 1990), 16. For a more detailed history of the house and the Chancellor family, see Ralph Happel, “The Chancellors of Chancellorsville,” in The Virginia Magazine of History and Biography (1963), vol. 71, issue 3, 259-277.

  2 Joseph Hooker to Army of the Potomac, April 30, 1863, in The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, 128 vols. (Washington, D.C., 1880-1901), Series 1, vol. 25, pt. 1, 171. Hereafter cited as OR. All references are to Series 1 unless otherwise noted.

  3 James Longstreet, “The Battle of Fredericksburg,” in B&L, vol. 3, pt. 1, 70.

  4 Hunter H. McGuire and George L. Christian, The Confederate Cause and Conduct in the War Between The States (Richmond, VA, 1907), 210; Jackson, Life and Letters, 385. Little is known about the background of James Lewis, or Alexander, as some references cite his last name. Jackson reportedly hired Lewis for the war at $12.50 per month. After Jackson’s death, Lewis worked as camp servant for Lt. Col. Alexander S. Pendleton, formerly of Jackson’s staff, until Pendleton’s death at the battle of Fisher’s Hill in September 1864. Lewis subsequently died during the winter of 1864. See Atlanta Daily Constitution, May 3, 1878.