The stroke against the centre was not, however, to be tried. Lee had other views, and Jackson had been already ordered to turn the Federal right. Stuart, reinforced by a regiment of infantry and several light batteries, was instructed to reconnoitre the enemy's position, and if favourable ground were found, he was to be supported by all the infantry available. "About half-past twelve," says General Walker, "I sought Jackson to report that from the front of my position in the wood I thought I had observed a movement of the enemy, as if to pass through the gap where I had posted Colonel Cooke's two regiments. I found Jackson in rear of Barksdale's brigade, under an apple tree, sitting on his horse, with one leg thrown carelessly over the pommel of his saddle, plucking and eating the fruit. Without making any reply to my report, he asked me abruptly: "Can you spare me a regiment and a battery?"...Adding that he wished to make up, from the different commands on our left, a force of four or five thousand men, and give them to Stuart, with orders to turn the enemy's right and attack him in the rear; that I must give orders to my division to advance to the front, and attack the enemy as soon as I should hear Stuart's guns, and that our whole left wing would move to the attack at the same time. Then, replacing his foot in the stirrup, he said with great emphasis, "We'll drive McClellan into the Potomac."

"Returning to my command, I repeated General Jackson's order to my brigade commanders and directed them to listen to the sound of Stuart's guns. We all confidently expected to hear the welcome sound by two o'clock at least, and as that hour approached every ear was on the alert. Napoleon at Waterloo did not listen more intently for the sound of Grouchy's fire than did we for Stuart's. Two o'clock came, but nothing was heard of Stuart. Half-past two, and then three, and still Stuart made no sign.

"About half-past three a staff officer of General Longstreet's brought me an order to advance and attack the enemy in my front. As the execution of this order would have materially interfered with Jackson's plans, I thought it my duty before beginning the movement to communicate with General Longstreet personally. I found him in rear of the position in which I had posted Cooke in the morning, and upon informing him of Jackson's intentions, he withdrew his order.

"While we were discussing this subject, Jackson himself joined us with the information of Stuart's failure to turn the Federal right, for the reason that he found it securely posted on the Potomac. Upon my expressing surprise at this statement, Jackson replied that he also had been surprised, as he had supposed the Potomac much further away; but he remarked that Stuart had an excellent eye for topography, and it must be as he represented. "It is a great pity," he added; "we should have driven McClellan into the Potomac""* (* Battles and Leaders. volume 2 pages 679 and 680.)

That a counterstroke which would have combined a frontal and flank attack would have been the best chance of destroying the Federal army can hardly be questioned. The front so bristled with field artillery, and the ridge beyond the Antietam was so strong in heavier ordnance, that a purely frontal attack, such as Longstreet suggested, was hardly promising; but the dispositions which baffled Stuart were the work of a sound tactician. Thirty rifled guns had been assembled in a single battery a mile north of the West Wood, where the Hagerstown turnpike ascends a commanding ridge, and the broad channel of the Potomac is within nine hundred yards. Here had rallied such portions of Hooker's army corps as had not dispersed, and here Mansfield's two divisions had reformed; and although the infantry could hardly have opposed a resolute resistance the guns were ready to repeat the lesson of Malvern Hill. Against the rifled pieces the light Confederate smooth-bores were practically useless. Stuart's caution was fully justified, and the sun sank on an indecisive battle.

"The blessed night came, and brought with it sleep and forgetfulness and refreshment to many; but the murmur of the night wind, breathing over fields of wheat and clover, was mingled with the groans of the countless sufferers of both armies. Who can tell, who can even imagine, the horrors of such a night, while the unconscious stars shone above, and the unconscious river went rippling by?"* (* General Palfrey. The Antietam and Fredericksburg.) Out of 130,000 men upon the ground, 21,000 had been killed or wounded, more than sixteen per cent.; and 25,000 of the Federals can hardly be said to have been engaged.

The losses of the Confederate left have already been enumerated. Those of the centre and the right, although A.P. Hill reported only 350 casualties, had hardly been less severe. In all 9,500 officers and men, one-fourth of the total strength, had fallen, and many of the regiments had almost disappeared.* (* "One does not look for humour in a stern story like this, but the Charleston Courier account of the battle contains the following statement: 'They [the Confederates] fought until they were cut to pieces, and then retreated only because they had fired their last round!'" General Palfrey, The Antietam and Fredericksburg.) The 17th Virginia, for instance, of Longstreet's command, took into battle 9 officers and 46 men; of these 7 officers and 24 men were killed or wounded, and 10 taken prisoners, leaving 2 officers and 12 men to represent a regiment which was over 1000 strong at Bull Run. Yet as the men sank down to rest on the line of battle, so exhausted that they could not be awakened to eat their rations; as the blood cooled and the tension on the nerves relaxed, and even the officers, faint with hunger and sickened with the awful slaughter, looked forward with apprehension to the morrow, from one indomitable heart the hope of victory had not yet vanished. In the deep silence of the night, more oppressive than the stunning roar of battle, Lee, still mounted, stood on the highroad to the Potomac, and as general after general rode in wearily from the front, he asked quietly of each, "How is it on your part of the line?" Each told the same tale: their men were worn out; the enemy's numbers were overwhelming; there was nothing left but to retreat across the Potomac before daylight. Even Jackson had no other counsel to offer. His report was not the less impressive for his quiet and respectful tone. He had had to contend, he said, against the heaviest odds he had ever met. Many of his divisional and brigade commanders were dead or wounded, and his loss had been severe. Hood, who came next, was quite unmanned. He exclaimed that he had no men left. "Great God!" cried Lee, with an excitement he had not yet displayed, "where is the splendid division you had this morning?" "They are lying on the field, where you sent them," was the reply, "for few have straggled. My division has been almost wiped out."

After all had given their opinion, there was an appalling silence, which seemed to last for several minutes, and then General Lee, rising erect in his stirrups, said, "Gentlemen, we will not cross the Potomac to-night. You will go to your respective commands, strengthen your lines; send two officers from each brigade towards the ford to collect your stragglers and get them up. Many have come in. I have had the proper steps taken to collect all the men who are in the rear. If McClellan wants to fight in the morning, I will give him battle again. Go!" Without a word of remonstrance the group broke up, leaving their great commander alone with his responsibility, and, says an eyewitness, "if I read their faces aright, there was not one but considered that General Lee was taking a fearful risk."* (* Communicated by General Stephen P. Lee, who was present at the conference.) So the soldiers' sleep was undisturbed. Through the September night they lay beside their arms, and from the dark spaces beyond came the groans of the wounded and the nameless odours of the battle-field. Not often has the night looked down upon a scene more terrible. The moon, rising above the mountains, revealed the long lines of men and guns, stretching far across hill and valley, waiting for the dawn to shoot each other down, and between the armies their dead lay in such numbers as civilised war has seldom seen. So fearful had been the carnage, and comprised within such narrow limits, that a Federal patrol, it is related, passing into the corn-field, where the fighting had been fiercest, believed that they had surprised a whole Confederate brigade. There, in the shadow of the woods, lay the skirmishers, their muskets beside them, and there, in regular ranks, lay the line of battle, sleeping, as it seemed, the profound sleep of utter exhaustion. But the first man that was touched was cold and lifeless, and the next, and the next; it was the bivouac of the dead.

September 18.

When the day dawned the Confederate divisions, reinforced by some 5000 or 6000 stragglers, held the same position as the previous evening, and over against them, seen dimly through the mist, lay the Federal lines. The skirmishers, crouching behind the shattered fences, confronted each other at short range; the guns of both armies were unlimbered, and the masses of infantry, further to the rear, lay ready for instant conflict. But not a shot was fired. The sun rose higher in the heavens; the warm breath of the autumn morning rustled in the woods, but still the same strange silence prevailed. The men spoke in undertones, watching intently the movements of staff officers and orderlies; but the ranks lay as still as the inanimate forms, half hidden by the trodden corn, which lay so thickly between the lines; and as the hours passed on without stir or shot, the Southern generals acknowledged that Lee's daring in offering battle was fully justified. The enemy's aggressive strength was evidently exhausted; and then arose the question, Could the Confederates attack? It would seem that the possibility of a great counterstroke had already been the subject of debate, and that Lee, despite the failure of the previous evening, and Jackson's adverse report, believed that the Federal right might be outflanked and overwhelmed. "During the morning," writes General Stephen D. Lee, "a courier from headquarters came to my battalion of artillery with a message that the Commander-in-Chief wished to see me. I followed the courier, and on meeting General Lee, he said, "Colonel Lee, I wish you to go with this courier to General Jackson, and say that I sent you to report to him." I replied, "General, shall I take my batteries with me?" He said, "No, just say that I told you to report to him, and he will tell you what he wants." I soon reached General Jackson. He was dismounted, with but few persons round him. He said to me, "Colonel Lee, I wish you to take a ride with me," and we rode to the left of our lines with but one courier, I think. We soon reached a considerable hill and dismounted. General Jackson then said, "Let us go up this hill, and be careful not to expose yourself, for the Federal sharpshooters are not far off." The hill bore evidence of fierce fight the day before.* (* Evidently the ridge which had been held by Stuart on the 17th.) A battery of artillery had been on it, and there were wrecked caissons, broken wheels, dead bodies, and dead horses around. General Jackson said: "Colonel, I wish you to take your glasses and carefully examine the Federal line of battle." I did so, and saw a remarkably strong line of battle, with more troops than I knew General Lee had. After locating the different batteries, unlimbered and ready for action, and noting the strong skirmish line, in front of the dense masses of infantry, I said to him, "General, that is a very strong position, and there is a large force there." He said, "Yes. I wish you to take fifty pieces of artillery and crush that force, which is the Federal right. Can you do it?" I can scarcely describe my feelings as I again took my glasses, and made an even more careful examination. I at once saw such an attempt must fail. More than fifty guns were unlimbered and ready for action, strongly supported by dense lines of infantry and strong skirmish lines, advantageously posted. The ground was unfavourable for the location of artillery on the Confederate side, for, to be effective, the guns would have to move up close to the Federal lines, and that, too, under fire of both infantry and artillery. I could not bring myself to say all that I felt and knew. I said, "Yes, General; where will I get the fifty guns?" He said, "How many have you?" I replied, "About twelve out of the thirty I carried into the action the day before." (My losses had been very great in men, horses, and carriages.) He said, "I can furnish you some, and General Lee says he can furnish some." I replied, "Shall I go for the guns?" "No, not yet," he replied. "Colonel Lee, can you crush the Federal right with fifty guns?" I said, "General, I can try. I can do it if anyone can." He replied, "That is not what I asked you, sir. If I give you fifty guns, can you crush the Federal right?" I evaded the question again and again, but he pressed it home. Finally I said, "General, you seem to be more intent upon my giving you my technical opinion as an artillery officer, than upon my going after the guns and making the attempt." "Yes, sir," he replied, "and I want your positive opinion, yes or no." I felt that a great crisis was upon me, and I could not evade it. I again took my glasses and made another examination. I waited a good while, with Jackson watching me intently.

"I said, "General, it cannot be done with fifty guns and the troops you have near here." In an instant he said, "Let us ride back, Colonel." I felt that I had positively shown a lack of nerve, and with considerable emotion begged that I might be allowed to make the attempt, saying, "General, you forced me to say what I did unwillingly. If you give the fifty guns to any other artillery officer, I am ruined for life. I promise you I will fight the guns to the last extremity, if you will only let me command them." Jackson was quiet, seemed sorry for me, and said, "It is all right, Colonel. Everybody knows you are a brave officer and would fight the guns well," or words to that effect. We soon reached the spot from which we started. He said, "Colonel, go to General Lee, and tell him what has occurred since you reported to me. Describe our ride to the hill, your examination of the Federal position, and my conversation about your crushing the Federal right with fifty guns, and my forcing you to give your opinion."

"With feelings such as I never had before, nor ever expect to have again, I returned to General Lee, and gave a detailed account of my visit to General Jackson, closing with the account of my being forced to give my opinion as to the possibility of success. I saw a shade come over General Lee's face, and he said, "Colonel, go and join your command."

"For many years I never fully understood my mission that day, or why I was sent to General Jackson. When Jackson's report was published of the battle, I saw that he stated, that on the afternoon of September 17, General Lee had ordered him to move to the left with a view of turning the Federal right, but that he found the enemy's numerous artillery so judiciously posted in their front, and so near the river, as to render such an attempt too hazardous to undertake. I afterwards saw General J.E.B. Stuart's report, in which he says that it was determined, the enemy not attacking, to turn the enemy's right on the 18th. It appears General Lee ordered General Jackson, on the evening of the 17th, to turn the enemy's right, and Jackson said that it could not be done. It also appears from Stuart's report, and from the incident I relate, that General Lee reiterated the order on the 18th, and told Jackson to take fifty guns, and crush the Federal right. Jackson having reported against such attempt on the 17th, no doubt said that if an artillerist, in whom General Lee had confidence, would say the Federal right could be crushed with fifty guns, he would make the attempt.

"I now have the satisfaction of knowing that the opinion which I was forced to give on September 18 had already been given by Jackson on the evening of September 17, and that the same opinion was reiterated by him on September 18, and confirmed by General J. E. B. Stuart on the same day. I still believe that Jackson, Stuart, and myself were right, and that the attempt to turn the Federal right either on the 17th or on the 18th would have been unwise.

"The incident shows General Lee's decision and boldness in battle, and General Jackson's delicate loyalty to his commanding general, in convincing him of the inadvisability of a proposed movement, which he felt it would be hazardous to undertake."* (* Communicated to the author. The difficulties in the way of the attack, of which Jackson was aware on the night of the 17th, probably led to his advising retreat when Lee asked his opinion at the conference (ante pages 259, 260).) The Federal left, protected by the Antietam, was practically inaccessible; and on receiving from the artillery officers' lips the confirmation of Jackson's report, Lee was fain to relinquish all hope of breaking McClellan's line. The troops, however, remained in line of battle; but during the day information came in which made retreat imperative. The Federals were being reinforced. Humphrey's division, hitherto held back at Frederick by orders from Washington, had marched over South Mountain; Couch's division, which McClellan had left to observe Harper's Ferry, had been called in; and a large force of militia was assembling on the Pennsylvania border. Before evening, therefore, Lee determined to evacuate his position, and during the night the Army of Northern Virginia, with all its trains and artillery, recrossed the Potomac at Boteler's Ford.

Such was the respect which the hard fighting of the Confederates had imposed upon the enemy, that although the rumbling of heavy vehicles, and the tramp of the long columns, were so distinctly audible in the Federal lines that they seemed to wakeful ears like the steady flow of a river, not the slightest attempt was made to interfere. It was not till the morning of the 19th that a Federal battalion, reconnoitring towards Sharpsburg, found the ridge and the town deserted; and although Jackson, who was one of the last, except the cavalry scouts, to cross the river, did not reach the Virginia shore till eight o'clock, not a shot was fired at him.

Nor were the trophies gathered by the Federals considerable. Several hundred badly wounded men were found in Sharpsburg, and a number of stragglers were picked up, but neither gun nor waggon had been left upon the field. The retreat, despite many obstacles, was as successfully as skilfully executed. The night was very dark, and a fine rain, which had set in towards evening, soon turned the heavy soil into tenacious mud; the ford was wide and beset with boulders, and the only approach was a narrow lane. But the energetic quartermaster of the Valley army, Major Harman, made light of all difficulties, and under the immediate supervision of Lee and Jackson, the crossing was effected without loss or misadventure.

September 19.

Just before nightfall, however, under cover of a heavy artillery fire, the Federals pushed a force of infantry across the ford, drove back the two brigades, which, with thirty pieces of artillery, formed the Confederate rear-guard, and captured four guns. Emboldened by this partial success, McClellan ordered Porter to put three brigades of the Fifth Army Corps across the river the next morning, and reconnoitre towards Winchester.

The news of the disaster to his rear-guard was long in reaching Lee's headquarters. His army had not yet recovered from the confusion and fatigue of the retreat. The bivouacs of the divisions were several miles from the river, and were widely scattered. The generals were ignorant of each other's dispositions. No arrangements had been made to support the rear-guard in case of emergency. The greater part of the cavalry had been sent off to Williamsport, fifteen miles up stream, with instructions to cross the Potomac and delay the enemy's advance by demonstration. The brigadiers had no orders; many of the superior generals had not told their subordinates where they would be found; and the commander of the rear-guard, General Pendleton, had not been informed of the strength of the infantry placed at his disposal. On the part of the staff, worn out by the toils and anxieties of the past few days, there appears to have been a general failure; and had McClellan, calculating on the chances invariably offered by an enforced retreat, pushed resolutely forward in strong force, success might possibly have followed.

September 20.

Lee, on receiving Pendleton's report, long after midnight, sent off orders for Jackson to drive the enemy back. When the messenger arrived, Jackson had already ridden to the front. He, too, had received news of the capture of the guns; and ordering A.P. Hill and Early,* (* Commanding Ewell's division, vice Lawton, wounded at Sharpsburg.) who were in camp near Martinsburg, to march at once to Shepherdstown, he had gone forward to reconnoitre the enemy's movements. When Lee's courier found him he was on the Shepherdstown road, awaiting the arrival of his divisions, and watching, unattended by a single aide-de-camp, the advance of Porter's infantry. He had at once grasped the situation. The Confederates were in no condition to resist an attack in force. The army was not concentrated. The cavalry was absent. No reconnaissance had been made either of lines of march or of positions. The roads were still blocked by the trains. The men were exhausted by their late exertions, and depressed by their retreat, and the straggling was terrible. The only chance of safety lay in driving back the enemy's advanced guard across the river before it could be reinforced; and the chance was seized without an instant's hesitation.

The Federals advanced leisurely, for the cavalry which should have led the way had received its orders too late to reach the rendezvous at the appointed hour, and the infantry, compelled to reconnoitre for itself, made slow progress. Porter's leading brigade was consequently not more than a mile and a half from the river when the Light Division reported to Jackson. Hill was ordered to form his troops in two lines, and with Early in close support to move at once to the attack. The Federals, confronted by a large force, and with no further object than to ascertain the whereabouts of the Confederate army, made no attempt to hold their ground. Their left and centre, composed mainly of regulars, withdrew in good order. The right, hampered by broken country, was slow to move; and Hill's soldiers, who had done much at Sharpsburg with but little loss, were confident of victory. The Federal artillery beyond the river included many of their heavy batteries, and when the long lines of the Southerners appeared in the open, they were met by a storm of shells. But without a check, even to close the gaps in the ranks, or to give time to the batteries to reply to the enemy's fire, the Light Division pressed forward to the charge. The conflict was short. The Northern regulars had already passed the ford, and only a brigade of volunteers was left on the southern bank. Bringing up his reserve regiment, the Federal general made a vain effort to prolong his front. Hill answered by calling up a brigade from his second line; and then, outnumbered and outflanked, the enemy was driven down the bluffs and across the river. The losses in this affair were comparatively small. The Federals reported 340 killed and wounded, and of these a raw regiment, armed with condemned Enfield rifles, accounted for no less than 240. Hill's casualties were 271. Yet the engagement was not without importance. Jackson's quick action and resolute advance convinced the enemy that the Confederates were still dangerous; and McClellan, disturbed by Stuart's threat against his rear, abandoned all idea of crossing the Potomac in pursuit of Lee.

The losses at Sharpsburg may be here recorded.

JONES' DIVISION—1,800 The Stonewall Brigade, 250 strong 88 Taliaferro's Brigade 178 Starke's Brigade 287 Jones' Brigade 152 —- 700 (38 p.c.)

EWELL'S (LAWTON) DIVISION—8,600. Lawton's Brigade, 1,150 strong 567 Early's Brigade, 1,200 strong 194 Trimble's Brigade, 700 strong 237 Hays' Brigade, 550 strong 336 ——- 1,334 (47 p.c.)

THE LIGHT DIVISION—3,000 Branch's Brigade 104 Gregg's Brigade 165 Archer's Brigade 105 Pender's Brigade 30 Field's Brigade (not engaged) — Thomas' Brigade (at Harper's Ferry) — —- 404 Artillery (Estimated) 50 Total 2,488 (209 officers)

D.H. HILL'S DIVISION—3,500 Rodes' Brigade 203 Garland's Brigade (estimated) 300 Anderson's Brigade 302 Ripley's Brigade (estimated) 300 Colquitt's Brigade (estimated) 300 ——- 1,405

McLAWS' DIVISION—4,500 Kershaw's Brigade 355 Cobb's Brigade 156 Semmes' Brigade 314* Barksdale's Brigade 294 ——- 1,119

(* Semmes' four regiments, engaged in Jackson's counterstroke, reported the following percentage of loss. 53rd Georgia, 30 per cent.; 32nd Virginia, 45 per cent.; 10th Georgia, 57 per cent.; 15th Virginia, 58 per cent.)

D.R. JONES' DIVISION—3,500 Toombs' Brigade (estimated) 125 Drayton's Brigade (estimated) 400 Anderson's Brigade 87 Garnett's Brigade 99 Jenkins' Brigade 210 Kemper's Brigade (estimated) 120 ——- 1,041

WALKER'S DIVISION—3,500 Walker's Brigade 825 Ransom's Brigade 187 ——- 1,012

HOOD'S DIVISION—2,000. Laws' Brigade 454 Hood's Brigade 548 ——- 1,002 Evans' Brigade, 250 strong 200

B.H. ANDERSON'S DIVISION—3,500 Featherston's Brigade 304 Mahone's Brigade 76 Pryor's Brigade 182 Armistead's Brigade 35 Wright's Brigade 203 Wilcox' Brigade 221 ——- 1,021

ARTILLERY. Colonel S.D. Lee's Battalion 85 Washington Artillery 34 Cavalry, etc. etc. (estimated) 143 —- 262 Grand total 9,550

ARMY OF THE POTOMAC First Corps—Hooker 2,590 Second Corps—Sumner 5,138 Fifth Corps—Porter 109 Sixth Corps—Franklin 439 Ninth Corps—Burnside 2,349 Twelfth Corps—Mansfield 1,746 Cavalry Division, etc. 39 ——— (2,108 killed) 12,410* (* For the losses in various great battles, see Note at end of volume.)

With Porter's repulse the summer campaign of 1862 was closed. Begun on the Chickahominy, within thirty miles of Richmond, it ended on the Potomac, within seventy miles of Washington; and six months of continuous fighting had brought both belligerents to the last stage of exhaustion. Falling apart like two great battleships of the older wars,

The smoke of battle drifting slow a-lee.

hulls rent by roundshot, and scuppers awash with blood, but with the colours still flying over shattered spars and tangled shrouds, the armies drew off from the tremendous struggle. Neither Confederates nor Federals were capable of further effort. Lee, gathering in his stragglers, left Stuart to cover his front, and fell back towards Winchester. McClellan was content with seizing the Maryland Heights at Harper's Ferry, and except the cavalry patrols, not a single Federal soldier was sent across the river.

The organisation was absolutely imperative. The Army of the Potomac was in no condition to undertake the invasion of Virginia. Not only had the losses in battle been very large, but the supply train, hurriedly got together after Pope's defeat, had broken down; in every arm there was great deficiency of horses; the troops, especially those who had been engaged in the Peninsula, were half-clad and badly shod; and, above all, the army was very far from sharing McClellan's conviction that Sharpsburg was a brilliant victory. The men in the ranks were not so easily deceived as their commander. McClellan, relying on a return drawn up by General Banks, now in command at Washington, estimated the Confederate army at 97,000 men, and his official reports made frequent mention of Lee's overwhelming strength.* (* Mr. Lincoln had long before this recognised the tendency of McClellan and others to exaggerate the enemy's strength. As a deputation from New England was one day leaving the White House, a delegate turned round and said: "Mr. President, I should much like to know what you reckon to be the number the rebels have in arms against us." Without a moment's hesitation Mr. Lincoln replied: "Sir, I have the best possible reason for knowing the number to be one million of men, for whenever one of our generals engages a rebel army he reports that he has encountered a force twice his strength. Now I know we have half a million soldiers, so I am bound to believe that the rebels have twice that number.")

The soldiers knew better. They had been close enough to the enemy's lines to learn for themselves how thin was the force which manned them. They were perfectly well aware that they had been held in check by inferior numbers, and that the battle on the Antietam, tactically speaking, was no more of a victory for the North than Malvern Hill had been for the South. From dawn to dark on September 18 they had seen the tattered colours and bright bayonets of the Confederates still covering the Sharpsburg ridge; they had seen the grey line, immovable and defiant, in undisputed possession of the battle-ground, while their own guns were silent and their own generals reluctant to renew the fight. Both the Government and the people expected McClellan to complete his success by attacking Lee in Virginia. The Confederates, it was said—and men based their opinions on McClellan's reports—had been heavily defeated, not only at Antietam, but also at South Mountain; and although the Army of the Potomac might be unfit for protracted operations, the condition of the enemy must necessarily be far worse.

Such arguments, however, were entirely inapplicable to the situation. The Confederates had not been defeated at all, either at South Mountain or Sharpsburg; and although they had eventually abandoned their positions they had suffered less than their opponents. The retreat, however, across the Potomac had undoubtedly shaken their morale. "In a military point of view," wrote Lee to Davis on September 25, "the best move, in my opinion, the army could make would be to advance upon Hagerstown and endeavour to defeat the enemy at that point. I would not hesitate to make it even with our diminished numbers did the army exhibit its former temper and condition, but, as far as I am able to judge, the hazard would be great and reverse disastrous."* (* O.R. volume 19 part 2 page 627.) But McClellan was not more cheerful. "The army," he said on the 27th, "is not now in a condition to undertake another campaign nor to bring on another battle, unless great advantages are offered by some mistake of the enemy, or pressing military exigencies render it necessary." So far from thinking of pursuit, he thought only of the defence of the Potomac, apprehending a renewed attempt to enter Maryland, and by no means over-confident that the two army corps which he had at last sent to Harper's Ferry would be able to maintain their position if attacked.* (* O.R. volume 19 part 1 page 70.) Nor were the soldiers more eager than their commander to cross swords with their formidable enemy. "It would be useless," says General G.H. Gordon, who now commanded a Federal division, "to deny that at this period there was a despondent feeling in the army," and the Special Correspondents of the New York newspapers, the 'World' and 'Tribune,' confirm the truth of this statement. But the clearest evidence as to the condition of the troops is furnished in the numerous reports which deal with straggling. The vice had reached a pitch which is almost inconceivable. Thousands and tens of thousands, Federals as well as Confederates, were absent from their commands.

"The States of the North," wrote McClellan, "are flooded with deserters and absentees. One corps of this army has 18,000 men present and 15,000 absent; of this 15,000, 8,000 probably are at work at home."* (* Ibid part 2 page 365.) On September 28, General Meade, who had succeeded to the command of Hooker's corps, reported that over 8000 men, including 250 officers, had quitted the ranks either before or during the battle of Antietam; adding that "this terrible and serious evil seems to pervade the whole body."* (* Ibid page 348.) The Confederates, although the privations of the troops during the forced marches, their indifferent equipment, and the deficiencies of the commissariat were contributory causes, had almost as much reason to complain. It is said that in the vicinity of Leesburg alone over 10,000 men were living on the citizens. Jackson's own division, which took into action 1600 effectives on September 17 and lost 700, had 3900 present for duty on September 30; Lawton's division rose from 2500 to 4450 during the same period; and the returns show that the strength of Longstreet's and Jackson's corps was only 87, 992 on September 22, but 52,019 on October 1.* (* O.R. volume 19 part 2 pages 621, 639.) It is thus evident that in eight days the army was increased by more than 14,000 men, yet only a few conscripts had been enrolled. Lee's official reports and correspondence allude in the strongest terms to the indiscipline of his army. "The absent," he wrote on September 23, "are scattered broadcast over the land;" and in the dispatches of his subordinates are to be found many references to the vagrant tendencies of their commands.* (* General orders, September 4; Lee to Davis, September 7; Lee to Davis, September 13; special orders, September 21; circular order, September 22; Lee to Davis, September 23; Lee to Secretary of War, September 23; Lee to Pendleton, September 24; Lee to Davis, September 24; Lee to Davis, September 28; Lee to Davis October 2; O.R. volume 19 part 2. See also Report of D.H. Hill, O.R. volume 19 part 1 page l026. Stuart to Secretary of War, October 13. On September 21, Jackson's adjutant-general wrote, "We should have gained a victory and routed them, had it not been for the straggling. We were twenty-five thousand short by this cause." Memoirs of W.N. Pendleton, D.D. page 217. It is but fair to say that on September 13 there was a camp of 900 barefooted men at Winchester, and "a great many more with the army." Lee to Quarter-Master General, O.R. volume 19 part 2 page 614.) A strong provost guard was established at Winchester for the purpose of collecting stragglers. Parties of cavalry were sent out to protect the farms from pillage, and to bring in the marauders as prisoners. The most stringent regulations were issued as to the preservation of order on the march, the security of private property, and the proper performance of their duties by regimental and commissariat officers. On September 23, General Jones reported from Winchester that the country was full of stragglers, that be had already sent back 5000 or 6000, and that the numbers of officers amongst them was astonishing.* (*3 O.R. volume 19 part 2 page 629.) The most earnest representations were made to the President, suggesting trial of the offenders by drumhead court-martial, and ordinary police duties became the engrossing occupation of every general officer.

It can hardly be said, then, that the Confederates had drawn much profit from the invasion of Maryland. The capture of Harper's Ferry made but small amends for the retreat into Virginia; and the stubborn endurance of Sharpsburg, however remarkable in the annals of war, had served no useful purpose beyond crippling for the time being the Federal army. The battle must be classed with Aspern and Talavera; Lee's soldiers saved their honour, but no more. The facts were not to be disguised. The Confederates had missed their mark. Only a few hundred recruits had been raised in Maryland, and there had been no popular outbreak against the Union Government. The Union army had escaped defeat; Lincoln had been able to announce to the Northern people that Lee's victorious career had at length been checked; and 12,000 veteran soldiers, the flower of the Southern army, had fallen in battle. Had General Longstreet's advice been taken, and the troops withdrawn across the Potomac after the fall of Harper's Ferry, this enormous loss, which the Confederacy could so ill afford, would certainly have been avoided. Yet Lee was not ill-satisfied with the results of the campaign, nor did Jackson doubt the wisdom of accepting battle on the Antietam.

The hazard was great, but the stake was greater. To achieve decisive success in war some risk must be run. "It is impossible," says Moltke, "to forecast the result of a pitched battle;" but this is no reason that pitched battles, if there is a fair prospect of success, should be shirked. And in the Sharpsburg campaign the Confederates had undoubtedly fair prospects of success. If the lost order had not fallen into McClellan's hands, Lee in all probability would have had ample time to select his battlefield and concentrate his army; there would have been no need of forced marches, and consequently much less straggling. Both Lee and Jackson counted on the caution of their opponent. Both were surprised by the unwonted vigour be displayed, especially at South Mountain and in the march to Sharpsburg. Such resolution in action, they were aware, was foreign to his nature. "I cannot understand this move of McClellan's," was Jackson's remark, when it was reported that the Federal general had boldly advanced against the strong position on South Mountain. But neither Lee nor Jackson was aware that McClellan had exact information of their dispositions, and that the carelessness of a Confederate staff officer had done more for the Union than all the Northern scouts and spies in Maryland. Jackson had been disposed to leave a larger margin for accidents than his commander. He would have left Harper's Ferry alone, and have fought the Federals in the mountains;* (* Dabney volume 2 page 302.) and he was probably right, for in the Gettysburg campaign of the following year, when Lee again crossed the Potomac, Harper's Ferry was ignored, although occupied by a strong garrison, and neither in advance nor retreat were the Confederate communications troubled. But as to the wisdom of giving battle on the Antietam, after the fall of Harper's Ferry, there was no divergence of opinion between Lee and his lieutenant. They had no reason to respect the Union army as a weapon of offence, and very great reason to believe that McClellan was incapable of wielding it. Their anticipations were well founded. The Federal attack was badly designed and badly executed. If it be compared with the German attack at Worth, the defects of McClellan, the defects of his subordinates, the want of sound training throughout the whole army, become at once apparent. On August 6, 1870, there was certainly, early in the day, much disjointed fighting, due in great part to the difficulties of the country, the absence of the Crown Prince, and the anxiety of the generals to render each other loyal support. But when once the Commander-in-Chief appeared upon the field, and, assuming direction of the battle, infused harmony into the operations, the strength and unity of the attack could hardly have been surpassed. Almost at the same moment 30,000 men were launched against McMahon's front, 25,000 against his right, and 10,000 against his left. Every battalion within sound of the cannon participated in the forward movement; and numerous batteries, crossing the stream which corresponds with the Antietam, supported the infantry at the closest range. No general hesitated to act on his own responsibility. Everywhere there was co-operation, between infantry and artillery, between division and division, between army corps and army corps; and such co-operation, due to a sound system of command, is the characteristic mark of a well-trained army and a wise leader. At Sharpsburg, on the other hand, there was no combination whatever, and even the army corps commanders dared not act without specific orders. There was nothing like the close concert and the aggressive energy which had carried the Southerners to victory at Gaines' Mill and the Second Manassas. The principle of mutual support was utterly ignored. The army corps attacked in succession and not simultaneously, and in succession they were defeated. McClellan fought three separate battles, from dawn to 10 A.M. against Lee's left; from 10 A.M. to 1 P.M. against his centre; from 1 to 4 P.M. against his right. The subordinate generals, although, with a few exceptions, they handled their commands skilfully, showed no initiative, and waited for orders instead of improving the opportunity. Only two-thirds of the army was engaged; 25,000 men hardly fired a shot, and from first to last there was not the slightest attempt at co-operation. McClellan was made aware by his signallers on the Red Hill of every movement that took place in his opponent's lines, and yet he was unable to take advantage of Lee's weakness. He had still to grasp the elementary rule that the combination of superior numbers and of all arms against a single point is necessary to win battles.

The Northern infantry, indeed, had not fought like troops who own their opponents as the better men. Rather had they displayed an elasticity of spirit unsuspected by their enemies; and the Confederate soldiers, who knew with what fierce courage the attack had been sustained, looked on the battle of Sharpsburg as the most splendid of their achievements. No small share of the glory fell to Jackson. Since the victory of Cedar Run, his fame, somewhat obscured by Frayser's Farm and Malvern Hill, had increased by leaps and bounds, and the defence of the West Wood was classed with the march to Manassas Junction, the three days' battle about Groveton, and the swift seizure of Harper's Ferry. On October 2, Lee proposed to the President that the Army of Northern Virginia should be organised in two army corps, for the command of which he recommended Longstreet and Jackson. "My opinion," wrote Lee, "of General Jackson has been greatly enhanced during this expedition. He is true, honest, and brave; has a single eye to the good of the service, and spares no exertion to accomplish his object."* (* O.R. volume 19 part 2 page 643.) On October 11, Jackson received his promotion as Lieutenant-General, and was appointed to the Second Army Corps, consisting at that date of his own division, the Light Division, Ewell's, and D.H. Hill's, together with Colonel Brown's battalion of artillery; a force of 1917 officers, 25,000 men, and 126 guns.

Jackson does not appear to have been unduly elated by his promotion, for two days after his appointment he wrote to his wife that there was no position in the world equal to that of a minister of the Gospel, and his letter was principally concerned with the lessons he had learned from the sermon of the previous Sunday.* (* About this time he made a successful appearance in a new role. In September, General Bradley T. Johnson was told off to accompany Colonel Garnet Wolseley, the Hon. Francis Lawley, Special Correspondent to the Times, and Mr. Vizetelly, Special Correspondent of the Illustrated London News, round the Confederate camps. "By order of General Lee," he says, "I introduced the party to General Jackson. We were all seated in front of General Jackson's tent, and he took up the conversation. He had been to England, and had been greatly impressed with the architecture of Durham Cathedral and with the history of the bishopric. The Bishops had been Palatines from the date of the Conquest, and exercised semi-royal authority over their bishopric.

"There is a fair history of the Palatinate of Durham in Blackstone and Coke, but I can hardly think that General Jackson derived his information from those two fountains of the law. Anyhow, he cross-examined the Englishmen in detail about the cathedral and the close and the rights of the bishops, etc. etc. He gave them no chance to talk, and kept them busy answering questions, for he knew more about Durham than they did.

"As we rode away, I said: "Gentlemen, you have disclosed Jackson in a new character to me, and I've been carefully observing him for a year and a half. You have made him exhibit finesse, for he did all the talking to keep you from asking too curious or embarrassing questions. I never saw anything like it in him before.* We all laughed, and agreed that the General had been too much for the interviewers." (* Memoirs pages 580 and 581.)

The soldiers of the Second Army Corps, however, did not allow him to forget his greatness. In their bivouacs by the clear waters of the Opequon, with abundance of supplies and with ample leisure for recuperation, the troops rapidly regained their strength and spirit. The reaction found vent in the most extravagant gaiety. No circumstance that promised entertainment was permitted to pass without attention, and the jest started at the expense of some unfortunate wight, conspicuous for peculiarity of dress or demeanour, was taken up by a hundred voices. None were spared. A trim staff officer was horrified at the irreverent reception of his nicely twisted moustache, as he heard from behind innumerable trees: "Take them mice out o' your mouth! take 'em out—no use to say they ain't there, see their tails hanging out!" Another, sporting immense whiskers, was urged "to come out o' that bunch of hair! I know you're in there! I see your ears a-working!" So the soldiers chaffed the dandies, and the camp rang with laughter; fun and frolic were always in the air, and the fierce fighters of Sharpsburg behaved like schoolboys on a holiday. But when the general rode by the men remembered the victories they had won and to whom they owed them, the hardships they had endured, and who had shared them; and the appearance of 'Little Sorrel' was the sure precursor of a scene of the wildest enthusiasm. The horse soon learned what the cheers implied, and directly they began he would break into a gallop, as if to carry his rider as quickly as possible through the embarrassing ordeal. But the soldiers were not to be deterred by their commander's modesty, and whenever he was compelled to pass through the bivouacs the same tribute was so invariably offered that the sound of a distant cheer, rolling down the lines of the Second Army Corps, always evoked the exclamation: "Boys, look out! here comes old Stonewall or an old hare!" "These being the only individuals," writes one of Jackson's soldiers, "who never failed to bring down the whole house."

Nothing could express more clearly the loyalty of the soldiers to their general than this quaint estimate of his popularity. The Anglo-Saxon is averse to the unrestrained display of personal affection; and when his natural reluctance is overborne by irrepressible emotion, he attempts to hide it by a jest. So Jackson's veterans laughed at his peculiarities, at his dingy uniform, his battered cap, his respect for clergymen, his punctilious courtesy, and his blushes. They delighted in the phrase, when a distant yell was heard, "Here's "Old Jack" or a rabbit!" They delighted more in his confusion when he galloped through the shouting camp. "Here he comes," they said, "we'll make him take his hat off." They invented strange fables of which he was the hero. "Stonewall died," ran one of the most popular, "and two angels came down from heaven to take him back with them. They went to his tent. He was not there. They went to the hospital. He was not there. They went to the outposts. He was not there. They went to the prayer-meeting. He was not there. So they had to return without him; but when they reported that he had disappeared, they found that he had made a flank march and reached heaven before them." Another was to the effect that whereas Moses took forty years to get the children of Israel through the wilderness, ""Old Jack" would have double-quicked them through in three days on half rations!"

But, nevertheless, beneath this affectation of hilarity lay a deep and passionate devotion; and two incidents which occurred at this time show the extent of this feeling, and at least one reason for its existence. "On October 8th," writes Major Heros von Borcke, adjutant-general of the cavalry division, "I was honoured with the pleasing mission of presenting to Stonewall, as a slight token of Stuart's high regard, a new uniform coat, which had just arrived from the hands of a Richmond tailor. Starting at once, I reached the simple tent of our great general just in time for dinner. I found him in his old weather-stained coat, from which all the buttons had been clipped by the fair hands of patriotic ladies, and which, from exposure to sun, rain, and powder-smoke, and by reason of many rents and patches, was in a very unseemly condition. When I had dispatched more important matters, I produced General Stuart's present in all its magnificence of gilt buttons and sheeny facings and gold lace, and I was heartily amused at the modest confusion with which the hero of many battles regarded the fine uniform, scarcely daring to touch it, and at the quiet way in which at last he folded it up carefully and deposited it in his portmanteau, saying to me, "Give Stuart my best thanks, Major; the coat is much too handsome for me, but I shall take the best care of it, and shall prize it highly as a souvenir. And now let us have some dinner." But I protested emphatically against the summary disposition of the matter of the coat, deeming my mission indeed but half executed, and remarked that Stuart would certainly ask how the coat fitted, and that I should take it as a personal favour if he would put it on. To this with a smile he readily assented, and having donned the garment, he escorted me outside the tent to the table where dinner had been served in the open air. The whole of the staff were in a perfect ecstasy at their chief's brilliant appearance, and the old negro servant, who was bearing the roast turkey to the board, stopped in mid career with a most bewildered expression, and gazed in such wonderment at his master as if he had been transfigured before him. Meanwhile, the rumour of the change ran like electricity through the neighbouring camps, the soldiers came running by hundreds to the spot, desirous of seeing their beloved Stonewall in his new attire; and the first wearing of a new robe by Louis XIV, at whose morning toilette all the world was accustomed to assemble, never created half the excitement at Versailles that was roused in the woods of Virginia by the investment of Jackson in the new regulation uniform."* (* Memoirs of the Confederate War volume 1.)

The second incident is less amusing, but was not less appreciated by the rank and file. Riding one morning near Front Royal, accompanied by his staff, Jackson was stopped by a countrywoman, with a chubby child on either side, who inquired anxiously for her son Johnnie, serving, she said, "in Captain Jackson's company." The general, with the deferential courtesy he never laid aside, introduced himself as her son's commanding officer, but begged for further information as to his regiment. The good dame, however, whose interest in the war centred on one individual, appeared astonished that Captain Jackson "did not know her particular Johnnie," and repeated her inquiries with such tearful emphasis that the young staff officers began to smile. Unfortunately for themselves, Jackson heard a titter, and turning on them with a scathing rebuke for their want of manners, he sent them off in different directions to discover Johnnie, giving them no rest until mother and son were brought together.

But if the soldiers loved Jackson for his simplicity, and respected him for his honesty, beyond and above was the sense of his strength and power, of his indomitable will, of the inflexibility of his justice, and of the unmeasured resources of his vigorous intellect. It is curious even after the long lapse of years to hear his veterans speak of their commander. Laughter mingles with tears; each has some droll anecdote to relate, each some instance of thoughtful sympathy or kindly deed; but it is still plain to be seen how they feared his displeasure, how hard they found his discipline, how conscious they were of their own mental inferiority. The mighty phantom of their lost leader still dominates their thoughts; just as in the battles of the Confederacy his earthly presentment dominated the will of the Second Army Corps. In the campaign which had driven the invaders from Virginia, and carried the Confederate colours to within sight of Washington, his men had found their master. They had forgotten how to criticise. His generals had learned to trust him. Success and adulation had not indeed made him more expansive. He was as reticent as ever, and his troops—the foot-cavalry as they were now called—were still marched to and fro without knowing why or whither. But men and officers, instead of grumbling when they were roused at untimely hours, or when their marches were prolonged, without apparent necessity, obeyed with alacrity, and amused themselves by wondering what new surprise the general was preparing. "Where are you going?" they were asked as they were turned out for an unexpected march: "We don't know, but Old Jack does," was the laughing reply. And they had learned something of his methods. They had discovered the value of time, of activity, of mystery, of resolution. They discussed his stratagems, gradually evolving, for they were by no means apparent at the time, the object and aim of his manoeuvres; and the stirring verses, sung round every camp-fire, show that the soldiers not only grasped his principles of warfare, but that they knew right well to whom their victories were to be attributed.

STONEWALL JACKSON'S WAY

Come, stack arms, men, pile on the rails; Stir up the camp-fires bright; No matter if the canteen fails, We'll make a roaring night. Here Shenandoah brawls along, There lofty Blue Ridge echoes strong, To swell the Brigade's roaring song Of Stonewall Jackson's way.

We see him now—the old slouched has, Cocked o'er his eye askew; The shrewd dry smile—the speech so pat, So calm, so blunt, so true. The "Blue-Light Elder" knows them well: Says he, "That's Banks—he's fond of shell; Lord save his soul! we'll give him ——" well, That's Stonewall Jackson's way.

Silence! ground arms! kneel all! caps off! Old Blue-Light's going to pray; Strangle the fool that dares to scoff! Attention! it's his way! Appealing from his native sod, In forma pauperis to God, "Lay bare thine arm-stretch forth thy rod, Amen!" That's Stonewall's way.

He's in the saddle now! Fall in, Steady, the whole Brigade! Hill's at the Ford, cut off!—we'll win His way out, ball and blade. What matter if our shoes are worn? What matter if our feet are torn? Quick step! we're with him before morn! That's Stonewall Jackson's way.

The sun's bright lances rout the mists Of morning—and, by George! There's Longstreet struggling in the lists, Hemmed in an ugly gorge. Pope and his columns whipped before— "Bayonets and grape!" hear Stonewall roar, "Charge, Stuart! pay off Ashby's score!" That's Stonewall Jackson's way.

Ah! maiden, wait and watch and yearn For news of Stonewall's band; Ah! widow, read with eyes that burn The ring upon thy hand. Ah! wife, sew on, pray on, hope on Thy life shall not be all forlorn; The foe had better ne'er been born That gets in Stonewall's way.

NOTE

Jackson's Strength and Losses, August-September 1882. Strength at Cedar Run, August 9: Winder's (Jackson's own) Division (estimate) 3,000 Ewell's Division.* 5,350 (* Report of July 31, O.R. volume 12 part 3 page 965.) Lawton's Brigade*2 2,200 (*2 Report of August 20, O.R. volume 12 part 3 page 966. Not engaged at Cedar Run.) A.P. Hill's (the Light) Division*3 12,000 (*3 Report of July 20, O.R. volume 11 part 3 page 645. (3 1/2 regiments had been added.) Robertson's Cavalry Brigade*4 (estimate) 1,200 (*4 Four regiments.) ——— 23,750 Losses at Cedar Run: Winder's Division 718 Ewell's Division 195 The Light Division 381 Cavalry, etc. 20 1,314 ——— 22,436 Losses on the Rappahannock, August 20 to 24 100 Losses at Bristoe Station and Manassas Junction, August 26, 27 300 Losses at Groveton, August 28: Stonewall Division (estimate) 441 Ewell's Division 759 1,200 Stragglers and sick (estimate) 1,200 Cavalry transferred to Stuart 1,200 4,000 ——— Strength at Second Manassas, August 29 and 30 18,436

Losses: Taliaferro's Division 416 Ewell's Division 364 The Light Division 1,507 2,387 Loss at Chantilly, September 1 500 ——— Should have marched into Maryland 15,549

Strength at Sharpsburg: Jones' Division 2,000 Ewell's Division 4,000 The Light Division 5,000 (1 Brigade left at Harper's Ferry) 800 11,800* Loss at Harper's Ferry 62 Losses at Sharpsburg: Jones' Division 700 Ewell's Division 1,334 The Light Division 404 2,438 ——— Strength on September 19 9,300 (* 3866 sick and straggling since August 28 = 21 per cent.)

The Report of September 22, O.R. volume 14 part 2 page 621, gives

Jackson's own Division 2,558 Ewell's Division 8,290 The Light Division 4,777 ——— 10,620* (* Over 1300 stragglers had rejoined.)

CHAPTER 2.20. FREDERICKSBURG.

1862. October. While the Army of Northern Virginia was resting in the Valley, McClellan was preparing for a winter campaign. He was unable, however, to keep pace with the impatience of the Northern people. Not only was he determined to postpone all movement until his army was properly equipped, his ranks recruited, his cavalry remounted, and his administrative services reorganised, but the military authorities at Washington were very slow in meeting his demands. Notwithstanding, then, the orders of the President, the remonstrances of Halleck, and the clamour of the press, for more than five weeks after the battle of Sharpsburg he remained inactive on the Potomac. It may be that in the interests of the army he was perfectly right in resisting the pressure brought to bear upon him. He was certainly the best judge of the temper of his troops, and could estimate more exactly than either Lincoln or Halleck the chances of success if he were to encounter Lee's veterans on their native soil. However this may be, his inaction was not in accordance with the demands of the political situation. The President, immediately the Confederates retired from Maryland, had taken a step which changed the character of the war. Hitherto the Northerners had fought for the restoration of the Union on the basis of the Constitution, as interpreted by themselves. Now, after eighteen months of conflict, the Constitution was deliberately violated. For the clause which forbade all interference with the domestic institutions of the several States, a declaration that slavery should no longer exist within the boundaries of the Republic was substituted, and the armies of the Union were called upon to fight for the freedom of the negro.

In the condition of political parties this measure Was daring. It was not approved by the Democrats, and many of the soldiers were Democrats; or by those—and they were not a few—who believed that compromise was the surest means of restoring peace; or by those—and they were numerous—who thought the dissolution of the Union a smaller evil than the continuance of the war. The opposition was very strong, and there was but one means of reconciling it—vigorous action on the part of the army, the immediate invasion of Virginia, and a decisive victory. Delay would expose the framers of the measure to the imputation of having promised more than they could perform, of wantonly tampering with the Constitution, and of widening the breach between North and South beyond all hope of healing.

In consequence, therefore, of McClellan's refusal to move forward, the friction between the Federal Government and their general-in-chief, which, so long as Lee remained in Maryland, had been allayed, once more asserted its baneful influence; and the aggressive attitude of the Confederates did not serve to make matters smoother. Although the greater part of October was for the Army of Northern Virginia a period of unusual leisure, the troops were not altogether idle. As soon as the stragglers had been brought in, and the ranks of the divisions once more presented a respectable appearance, various enterprises were undertaken. The Second Army Corps was entrusted with the destruction of the Baltimore and Ohio Railway, a duty carried out by Jackson with characteristic thoroughness. The line from Harper's Ferry to Winchester, as well as that from Manassas Junction to Strasburg, were also torn up; and the spoils of the late campaign were sent south to Richmond and Staunton. These preparations for defensive warfare were not, however, so immediately embarrassing to the enemy as the action of the cavalry. Stuart's three brigades, after the affair at Boteler's Ford, picketed the line of the Potomac from the North Mountain to the Shenandoah, a distance of forty miles: Hampton's brigade at Hedgesville, Fitzhugh Lee's at Shepherdstown, Munford's at Charlestown, and headquarters near Leetown.

On October 8 General Lee, suspecting that McClellan was meditating some movement, ordered the cavalry to cross the Potomac and reconnoitre.

October 9.

Selecting 600 men from each of his brigades, with General Hampton, Colonels W. H. F. Lee and W. E. Jones in command, and accompanied by four horse-artillery guns, Stuart rendezvoused on the night of the 9th at Darkesville. As the day dawned he crossed the Potomac at McCoy's Ford, drove in the Federal pickets, and broke up a signal station near Fairview.

October 10.

Marching due north, he reached Mercersburg at noon, and Chambersburg, forty-six miles from Darkesville, at 7 P.M. on October 10. Chambersburg, although a Federal supply depot of some importance, was without a garrison, and here 275 sick and wounded were paroled, 500 horses requisitioned, the wires cut, and the railroad obstructed; while the machine shops, several trains of loaded cars, and a large quantity of small arms, ammunition, and clothing was destroyed.

October 11.

At nine the next morning the force marched in the direction of Gettysburg, moving round the Federal rear.

October 12.

Then, crossing the mountains, it turned south through Emmittsburg, passed the Monocacy near Frederick, and after a march of ninety miles since leaving Chambersburg reached Hyattstown at daylight on the 12th. Here, on the road which formed McClellan's line of communication with Washington, a few waggons were captured, and information came to hand that 4000 or 5000 Federal troops were near Poolesville, guarding the fords across the Potomac. Moving at a trot through the woods, the column, leaving Poolesville two or three miles to the left, made for the mouth of the Monocacy. About a mile and a half from that river an advanced guard of hostile cavalry, moving eastward, was encountered and driven in. Colonel Lee's men were dismounted, a gun was brought into action, and under cover of this screen, posted on a high crest, the main body made a dash for White's Ford. The point of passage, although guarded by about 100 Federal riflemen, was quickly seized, and Stuart's whole force, together with the captured horses, had completed the crossing before the enemy, advancing in large force from the Monocacy, was in a position to interfere.

This brilliantly conducted expedition was as fruitful of results as the ride round McClellan's army in the previous June. The information obtained was most important. Lee, besides being furnished with a sufficiently full report of the Federal dispositions, learned that no part of McClellan's army had been detached to Washington, but that it was being reinforced from that quarter, and that therefore no over-sea expedition against Richmond was to be apprehended. Several hundred fine horses from the farms of Pennsylvania furnished excellent remounts for the Confederate troopers. Prominent officials were brought in as hostages for the safety of the Virginia citizens who had been thrown into Northern prisons. Only a few scouts were captured by the enemy, and not a man was killed. The distance marched by Stuart, from Darkesville to White's Ford, was one hundred and twenty-six miles, of which the last eighty were covered without a halt. Crossing the Potomac at McCoy's Ford about 6 A.M. on October 10, he had recrossed it at White's Ford, between 1 and 2 P.M. on October 12; he was thus for fifty-six hours inside the enemy's lines, and during the greater part of his march within thirty miles of McClellan's headquarters near Harper's Ferry.

It is often the case in war that a well-planned and boldly executed enterprise has a far greater effect than could possibly have been anticipated. Neither Lee nor Stuart looked for larger results from this raid than a certain amount of plunder and a good deal of intelligence. But skill and daring were crowned with a more ample reward than the attainment of the immediate object.

In the first place, the expedition, although there was little fighting, was most destructive to the Federal cavalry. McClellan had done all in his power to arrest the raiders. Directly the news came in that they had crossed the Potomac, troops were sent in every direction to cut off their retreat. Yet so eminently judicious were Stuart's precautions, so intelligent the Maryland soldiers who acted as his guides, and so rapid his movements, that although constant reports were received by the Federal generals as to the progress and direction of his column, the information came always too late to serve any practical purpose, and his pursuers were never in time to bar his march. General Pleasanton, with such cavalry as could be spared from the picket line, marched seventy-eight miles in four-and-twenty hours, and General Averell's brigade, quartered on the Upper Potomac, two hundred miles in four days. The severity of the marches told heavily on these commands, already worn out by hard work on the outposts; and so many of the horses broke down that a period of repose was absolutely necessary to refit them for the field. Until his cavalry should have recovered it was impossible for McClellan to invade Virginia.

In the second place, neither the Northern Government nor the Northern people could forget that this was the second time that McClellan had allowed Stuart to ride at will round the Army of the Potomac. Public confidence in the general-in-chief was greatly shaken; and a handle was given to his opponents in the ranks of the abolitionists, who, because he was a Democrat, and had much influence with the army, were already clamouring for his removal.

October 26.

The respite which Stuart had gained for Virginia was not, however, of long duration. On October 26, McClellan, having ascertained by means of a strong reconnaissance in force that the Confederate army was still in the vicinity of Winchester, commenced the passage of the Potomac. The principal point of crossing was near Berlin, and so soon as it became evident that the Federal line of operations lay east of the Blue Ridge, Lee ordered Longstreet to Culpeper Court House. Jackson, taking post on the road between Berryville and Charlestown, was to remain in the Valley.

On November 7 the situation was as follows:—

ARMY OF THE POTOMAC. First Corps Warrenton. Second Corps Rectortown. Third Corps Between Manassas Junction and Warrenton. Fifth Corps White Plains. Ninth Corps Waterloo. Eleventh Corps New Baltimore. Cavalry Division Rappahannock Station and Sperryville. Line of Supply Orange and Alexandria and Manassas Railways. Twelfth Corps Harper's Ferry and Sharpsburg.

ARMY OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA.

First Corps Culpeper Court House. Second Corps Headquarters, Millwood. Cavalry Division Hampton's and Fitzhugh Lee's Brigades on the Rappahannock. Munford's Brigade with Jackson. Lines of Supply Staunton—Strasburg. Staunton—Culpeper Court House. Richmond—Gordonsville.

November 7.

On this date the six corps of the Army of the Potomac which were assembled between the Bull Run Mountains and the Blue Ridge numbered 125,000 officers and men present for duty, together with 320 guns.

The returns of the Army of Northern Virginia give the following strength:— First Army Corps 31,939 112 (54 short-range smooth-bores) Second Army Corps 31,794 123 (53 short-range smooth-bores) Cavalry Division 7,176 4 Reserve Artillery 900 36 (20 short-range smooth-bores) ——— —- 71,809 275

The Confederates were not only heavily outnumbered by the force immediately before them, but along the Potomac, from Washington westward, was a second hostile army, not indeed so large as that commanded by McClellan, but larger by several thousands than that commanded by Lee. The Northern capital held a garrison of 80,000; at Harper's Ferry were 10,000; in the neighbourhood of Sharpsburg over 4000; along the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad 8000. Thus the total strength of the Federals exceeded 225,000 men. Yet in face of this enormous host, and with Richmond only weakly garrisoned behind him, Lee had actually separated his two wings by an interval of sixty miles. He was evidently playing his old game, dividing his army with a view to a junction on the field of battle.

Lincoln, in a letter of advice with which he had favoured McClellan a few days previously, had urged the importance of making Lee's line of supply the first objective of the invading army. "An advance east of the Blue Ridge," he said, "would at once menace the enemy's line of communications, and compel him to keep his forces together; and if Lee, disregarding this menace, were to cut in between the Army of the Potomac and Washington, McClellan would have nothing to do but to attack him in rear." He suggested, moreover, that by hard marching it might be possible for McClellan to reach Richmond first.

The Confederate line of communications, so the President believed, ran from Richmond to Culpeper Court House, and McClellan's advanced guards, on November 7, were within twenty miles of that point. Lee, however, had altogether failed to respond to Mr. Lincoln's strategical pronouncements. Instead of concentrating his forces he had dispersed them; and instead of fearing for his own communications, he had placed Jackson in a position to interfere very seriously with those of his enemy.

Mr. Lincoln's letter to McClellan shows that the lessons of the war had not been altogether lost upon him. Generals Banks and Pope, with some stimulus from Stonewall Jackson, had taught him what an important part is played by lines of supply. He had mastered the strategical truism that an enemy's communications are his weakest point. But there were other considerations which had not come home to him. He had overlooked the possibility that Lee might threaten McClellan's communications before McClellan could threaten his; and he had yet to learn that an army operating in its own country, if proper forethought be exercised, can establish an alternative line of supply, and provide itself with a double base, thus gaining a freedom of action of which an invader, bound, unless he has command of the sea, to a single line, is generally deprived.

The President appears to have thought that, if Lee were cut off from Richmond, the Army of Northern Virginia would be reduced to starvation, and become absolutely powerless. It never entered his head that the astute commander of that army had already, in anticipation of the very movement which McClellan was now making, established a second base at Staunton, and that his line of supply, in case of necessity, would not run over the open country between Richmond and Gordonsville, but from Staunton to Culpeper, behind the ramparts of the Blue Ridge.

Lee, in fact, accepted with equanimity the possibility of the Federals intervening between himself and Richmond. He had already, in the campaign against Pope, extricated himself from such a situation by a bold stroke against his enemy's communications; and the natural fastness of the Valley, amply provided with food and forage, afforded facilities for such a manoeuvre which had been altogether absent before the Second Manassas. Nor was he of Mr. Lincoln's opinion, that if the Army of Northern Virginia cut in between Washington and McClellan it would be a simple operation for the latter to about face and attack the Confederates in rear. He knew, and Mr. Lincoln, if he had studied Pope's campaign, should have known it too, that the operation of countermarching, if the line of communication has been cut, is not only apt to produce great confusion and great suffering, but has the very worst effect on the morale of the troops. But Lee had that practical experience which Mr. Lincoln lacked, and without which it is but waste of words to dogmatise on strategy. He was well aware that a large army is a cumbrous machine, not readily deflected from the original direction of the line of march;* (* On November 1 the Army of the Potomac (not including the Third Corps) was accompanied by 4818 waggons and ambulances, 8,500 transport horses, and 12,000 mules. O.R. volume 19 part 1 pages 97-8. The train of each army corps and of the cavalry covered eight miles of road, or fifty miles for the whole.) and, more than all, he had that intimate acquaintance with the soldier in the ranks, that knowledge of the human factor, without which no military problem, whether of strategy, tactics, or organisation, can be satisfactorily solved. McClellan's task, therefore, so long as he had to depend for his supplies on a single line of railway, was not quite so simple as Mr. Lincoln imagined.

Nevertheless, on November 7 Lee decided to unite his army. As soon as the enemy advanced from Warrenton, Jackson was to ascend the Valley, and crossing the Blue Ridge at Fisher's Gap, join hands with Longstreet, who would retire from Madison Court House to the vicinity of Gordonsville. The Confederates would then be concentrated on McClellan's right flank should he march on Richmond, ready to take advantage of any opportunity for attack; or, if attack were considered too hazardous, to threaten his communications, and compel him to fall back to the Potomac.

The proposed concentration, however, was not immediately carried out. In the first place, the Federal advance came to a sudden standstill; and, in the second place, Jackson was unwilling to abandon his post of vantage behind the Blue Ridge. It need hardly be said that the policy of manoeuvring instead of intrenching, of aiming at the enemy's flank and rear instead of barring his advance directly, was in full agreement with his views of war; and it appears that about this date he had submitted proposals for a movement against the Federal communications. It would be interesting indeed to have the details of his design, but Jackson's letter-book for this period has unfortunately disappeared, nor did he communicate his ideas to any of his staff. Letters from General Lee, however, indicate that the manoeuvre proposed was of the same character as that which brought Pope in such hot haste from the Rappahannock to Bull Run, and that it was Jackson's suggestion which caused the Commander-in-Chief to reconsider his determination of uniting his army.

"As long as General Jackson," wrote Lee to the Secretary of War on November 10, "can operate with safety, and secure his retirement west of the Massanutton Mountains, I think it advantageous that he should be in a position to threaten the enemy's flank and rear, and thus prevent his advance southward on the east side of the Blue Ridge. General Jackson has been directed accordingly, and should the enemy descend into the Valley, General Longstreet will attack his rear, and cut off his communications. The enemy apparently is so strong in numbers that I think it preferable to baffle his designs by manoeuvring, rather than resist his advance by main force, To accomplish the latter without too great a risk and loss would require more than double our present numbers."* (* O.R. volume 19 part 2 page 711.)

His letter to Jackson, dated November 9, ran as follows: "The enemy seems to be massing his troops along the Manassas Railroad in the vicinity of Piedmont, which gives him great facilities for bringing up supplies from Alexandria. It has occurred to me that his object may be to seize upon Strasburg with his main force, to intercept your ascent of the Valley...This would oblige you to cross into the Lost River Valley, or west of it, unless you could force a passage through the Blue Ridge; hence my anxiety for your safety. If you can prevent such a movement of the enemy, and operate strongly on his flank and rear through the gaps of the Blue Ridge, you would certainly in my opinion effect the object you propose. A demonstration of crossing into Maryland would serve the same purpose, and might call him back to the Potomac. As my object is to retard and baffle his designs, if it can be accomplished by manoeuvring your corps as you propose, it will serve my purpose as well as if effected in any other way. With this understanding, you can use your discretion, which I know I can rely upon, in remaining or advancing up the Valley. Keep me advised of your movements and intentions; and you must keep always in view the probability of an attack upon Richmond from either north or south, when a concentration of force will become necessary."* (* O.R. volume 19 part 2 page 705.)

Jackson's plan, however, was not destined to be tried. McClellan had issued orders for the concentration of his army at Warrenton. His troops had never been in better condition. They were in good spirits, well supplied and admirably equipped. Owing to the activity of his cavalry, coupled with the fact that the Confederate horses were at this time attacked by a disease which affected both tongue and hoof, his information was more accurate than usual. He knew that Longstreet was at Culpeper, and Jackson in the Valley. He saw the possibility of separating the two wings of the enemy's forces, and of either defeating Longstreet or forcing him to fall back to Gordonsville, and he had determined to make the attempt.

On the night of November 7, however, at the very moment when his army was concentrating for an advance against Longstreet, McClellan was ordered to hand over his command to General Burnside. Lincoln had yielded to the insistence of McClellan's political opponents, to the rancour of Stanton, and the jealousy of Halleck. But in sacrificing the general who had saved the Union at Sharpsburg he sacrificed the lives of many thousands of his soldiers. A darker day than even the Second Manassas was in store for the Army of the Potomac. McClellan was not a general of the first order. But he was the only officer in the United States who had experience of handling large masses of troops, and he was improving every day. Stuart had taught him the use of cavalry, and Lee the value of the initiative. He was by no means deficient in resolution, as his march with an army of recently defeated men against Lee in Maryland conclusively proves; and although he had never won a decisive victory, he possessed, to a degree which was never attained by any of his successors, the confidence and affection of his troops. But deplorable as was the weakness which sanctioned his removal on the eve of a decisive manoeuvre, the blunder which put Burnside in his place was even more so. The latter appears to have been the protege of a small political faction. He had many good qualities. He was a firm friend, modest, generous, and energetic. But he was so far from being distinguished for military ability that in the Army of the Potomac it was very strongly questioned whether he was fit to command an army corps. His conduct at Sharpsburg, where he had been entrusted with the attack on the Confederate right, had been the subject of the severest criticism, and by not a few of his colleagues he was considered directly responsible for the want of combination which had marred McClellan's plan of attack. More than once Mr. Lincoln infringed his own famous aphorism, "Never swap horses when crossing a stream," but when he transferred the destinies of the Army of the Potomac from McClellan to Burnside he did more—he selected the weakest of his team of generals to bear the burden.

At the same time that McClellan was superseded, General FitzJohn Porter, the gallant soldier of Gaines' Mill and Malvern Hill, probably the best officer in the Army of the Potomac, was ordered to resign command of the Fifth Army Corps, and to appear before a court-martial on charges of incompetency and neglect of duty at the Second Manassas. The fact that those charges were preferred by Pope, and that Porter had been allowed to retain his command through the campaign in Maryland, were hardly calculated to inspire the army with confidence in either the wisdom or the justice of its rulers; and it was the general opinion that his intimate friendship with McClellan had more to say to his trial than his alleged incompetency.

Burnside commenced his career by renouncing the enterprise which McClellan had contemplated. Longstreet was left unmolested at Culpeper; and, in order to free the communications from Jackson, the Federal army was marched eastward along the Rappahannock to Falmouth, a new line of supply being established between that village and Aquia Creek, the port on the Potomac, six hours' sail from Washington.

Lee had already foreseen that Jackson's presence in the Valley might induce the Federals to change their line of operations. Fredericksburg, on the south side of the Rappahannock, and the terminus of the Richmond and Potomac Railroad, had consequently been garrisoned by an infantry regiment and a battery, while three regiments of cavalry patrolled the river. This force, however, was not posted on the Rappahannock with a view of retarding the enemy's advance, but merely for observation. Lee, at this date, had no intention of concentrating at Fredericksburg. The Federals, if they acted with resolution, could readily forestall him, and the line of the North Anna, a small but difficult stream, thirty-six miles south, offered peculiar advantages to the defence.

November 17.

The Federal march was rapid. On November 15 the Army of the Potomac left Warrenton, and the advanced guard reached Falmouth on the afternoon of the 17th. General Sumner, in command, observing the weakness of the Confederate garrison, requested permission from Burnside to cross the Rappahannock and establish himself on the further bank. Although two army corps were at hand, and the remainder were rapidly closing up, Burnside refused, for the bridges had been broken, and he was unwilling to expose part of his forces on the right bank with no means of retreat except a difficult and uncertain ford. The same day, part of Longstreet's corps and a brigade of cavalry were sent to Fredericksburg; and on the 19th, Lee, finding that the Federals had left Warrenton, ordered Longstreet to concentrate his whole force at Fredericksburg, and summoned Jackson from the Valley to Orange Court House.

Jackson, meanwhile, had moved to Winchester, probably with the design of threatening the enemy's garrisons on the Potomac, and this unexpected movement had caused much perturbation in the North. Pennsylvania and Maryland expected nothing less than instant invasion. The merchant feared for his strong-box, the farmer for his herds; plate was once more packed up; railway presidents demanded further protection for their lines; generals begged for reinforcements, and, according to the "Times" Correspondent, it was "the universal belief that Stonewall Jackson was ready to pounce upon Washington from the Shenandoah, and to capture President, Secretaries, and all." But before apprehension increased to panic, before Mr. Lincoln had become infected by the prevailing uneasiness, the departure of the Confederates from the Valley brought relief to the affrighted citizens.

On November 22 Jackson bade farewell to Winchester. His headquarters were not more than a hundred yards from Dr. Graham's manse, and he spent his last evening with his old friends. "He was in fine health and fine spirits," wrote the minister's wife to Mrs. Jackson. "The children begged to be permitted to sit up to see "General Jackson," and he really seemed overjoyed to see them, played with them and fondled them, and they were equally pleased. I have no doubt it was a great recreation to him. He seemed to be living over last winter again, and talked a great deal about the hope of getting back to spend this winter with us, in the old room, which I told him I was keeping for you and him. He certainly has had adulation enough to spoil him, but it seems not to affect or harm him at all. He is the same humble, dependent Christian, desiring to give God all the glory, looking to Him alone for a blessing, and not thinking of himself."

So it was with no presage that this was the last time he would look upon the scenes he loved that Jackson moved southward by the Valley turnpike. Past Kernstown his columns swept, past Middletown and Strasburg, and all the well-remembered fields of former triumphs; until the peaks of the Massanuttons threw their shadows across the highway, and the mighty bulk of the noble mountains, draped in the gold and crimson of the autumn, once more re-echoed to the tramp of his swift-footed veterans. Turning east at New Market, he struck upwards by the familiar road; and then, descending the narrow pass, he forded the Shenandoah, and crossing the Luray valley vanished in the forests of the Blue Ridge. Through the dark pines of Fisher's Gap he led his soldiers down to the Virginia plains, and the rivers and the mountains knew him no more until their dead returned to them.

On the 26th the Second Army Corps was at Madison Court House.

November 27.

The next day it was concentrated at Orange Court House, six-and-thirty miles from Fredericksburg. In eight days, two being given to rest, the troops had marched one hundred and twenty miles, and with scarce a straggler, for the stern measures which had been taken to put discipline on a firmer basis, and to make the regimental officers do their duty, had already produced a salutary effect.

On Jackson's arrival at Orange Court House he found the situation unchanged. Burnside, notwithstanding that heavy snow-storms and sharp frosts betokened the approach of winter, the season of impassable roads and swollen rivers, was still encamped near Falmouth. The difficulty of establishing a new base of supplies at Aquia Creek, and some delay on the part of the Washington authorities in furnishing him with a pontoon train, had kept him idle; but he had not relinquished his design of marching upon Richmond. His quiescence, however, together with the wishes of the President, had induced General Lee to change his plans. The Army of Northern Virginia, 78,500 strong, although, in order to induce the Federals to attack, it was not yet closely concentrated, was ready to oppose in full force the passage of the Rappahannock, and all thought of retiring to the North Anna had been abandoned.

November 29.

On November 29, therefore, Jackson was ordered forward, and while the First Army Corps occupied a strong position in rear of Fredericksburg, with an advanced detachment in the town, the Second was told off to protect the lower reaches of the Rappahannock. Ewell's division, still commanded by Early, was posted at Skinker's Neck, twelve miles south-east of Fredericksburg, a spot which afforded many facilities for crossing; D.H. Hill's at Port Royal, already menaced by Federal gunboats, six miles further down stream; A.P. Hill's and Taliaferro's (Jackson's own) at Yerby's House and Guiney's Station, five and nine miles respectively from Longstreet's right; and Stuart, whose division was now increased to four brigades, watched both front and flanks.

The Rappahannock was undoubtedly a formidable obstacle. Navigable for small vessels as far as Fredericksburg, the head of the tide water, it is two hundred yards wide in the neighbourhood of the city, and it increases in width and depth as it flows seaward. But above Falmouth there are several easy fords; the river banks, except near Fredericksburg, are clad with forest, hiding the movements of troops; and from Falmouth downward, the left bank, under the name of the Stafford Heights, so completely commands the right that it was manifestly impossible for the Confederates to prevent the enemy, furnished with a far superior artillery, from making good the passage of the stream. A mile west of Fredericksburg, however, extending from Beck's Island to the heights beyond the Massaponax Creek, runs a long low ridge, broken by ravines and partially covered with timber, which with some slight aid from axe and spade could be rendered an exceedingly strong position. Longstreet, who occupied this ridge, had been ordered to intrench himself; gun-pits had been dug on the bare crest, named Marye's Hill, which immediately faces Fredericksburg; a few shelter-trenches had been thrown up, natural defences improved, and some slight breastworks and abattis constructed along the outskirts of the woods. These works were at extreme range from the Stafford Heights; and the field of fire, extending as far as the river, a distance varying from fifteen hundred to three thousand yards, needed no clearing. Over such ground a frontal attack, even if made by superior numbers, had little chance of success.

But notwithstanding its manifest advantages the position found no favour in the eyes of Jackson. It could be easily turned by the fords above Falmouth—Banks', United States, Ely's, and Germanna. This, however, was a minor disqualification compared with the restrictions in the way of offensive action. If the enemy should cross at Fredericksburg, both his flanks would be protected by the river, while his numerous batteries, arrayed on the Stafford Heights, and commanding the length and the breadth of the battle-field, would make counterstroke difficult and pursuit impossible. To await attack, moreover, was to allow the enemy to choose his own time and place, and to surrender the advantages of the initiative. Burnside's communications were protected by the Rappahannock, and it was thus impracticable to manoeuvre against his most vulnerable point, to inflict on him a surprise, to compel him to change front, and, in case he were defeated, to cut him off from his base and deprive him of his supplies. The line of the North Anna, in Jackson's opinion, promised far greater results. The Federals, advancing from Fredericksburg, would expose their right flank and their communications for a distance of six-and-thirty miles; and if they were compelled to retreat, the destruction of their whole army was within the bounds of possibility. "I am opposed," he said to General D.H. Hill, "to fighting on the Rappahannock. We will whip the enemy, but gain no fruits of victory. I have advised the line of the North Anna, but have been overruled."* (* Dabney volume 2 page 355. From Manassas to Appomattox page 299.)

So the days passed on. The country was white with snow. The temperature was near zero, and the troops, their blankets as threadbare as their uniforms, without greatcoats, and in many instances without boots, shivered beneath the rude shelters of their forest bivouacs. Fortunately there was plenty of work. Roads were cut through the woods, and existing tracks improved. The river banks were incessantly patrolled. Fortifications were constructed at Port Royal and Skinker's Neck, and the movements of the Federals, demonstrating now here and now there, kept the whole army on the alert. Nor were Jackson's men deprived of all excitement. He had the satisfaction of reporting to General Lee that D.H. Hill, with the aid of Stuart's horse-artillery, had frustrated two attempts of the Federal gunboats to pass up the river at Port Royal; and that the vigilance of Early at Skinker's Neck had caused the enemy to abandon the design which he had apparently conceived of crossing at that point.

Dec. 11.

But more vigorous operations were not long postponed. On December 10, General Burnside, urged by the impatience of the Northern press, determined to advance, and the next morning, at 3 A.M., the signal guns of the Confederates gave notice that the enemy was in motion. One hundred and forty Federal guns, many of large calibre, placed in epaulments on the Stafford Heights, frowned down upon Fredericksburg, and before the sun rose the Federal bridge builders were at work on the opposite shore. The little city, which had been deserted by the inhabitants, was held by Barksdale's Mississippi brigade of McLaws' division, about 1600 strong, and the conduct of this advanced detachment must have done much to inspirit the troops who watched their prowess from the ridge in rear. A heavy fog hung upon the water, and not until the bridge was two-thirds completed, and shadowy figures became visible in the mist, did the Mississippians open fire. At such close quarters the effect was immediate, and the builders fled. Twice, at intervals of half an hour, they ventured again upon the deserted bridge, and twice were they driven back. Strong detachments were now moved forward by the Federals to cover the working parties, and artillery began to play upon the town. The Southerners, however, securely posted in rifle-pits and cellars, were not to be dislodged; and at ten o'clock Burnside ordered the heavy batteries into action. Every gun which could be brought to bear on Fredericksburg discharged fifty rounds of shot and shell. To this bombardment, which lasted upwards of an hour, Longstreet's artillery could make no reply. Yet though the effect on the buildings was appalling, and flames broke out in many places, the defenders not only suffered little loss, but at the very height of the cannonade repelled another attempt to complete the bridge.

After a delay of several hours General Hooker, commanding the advance, called for volunteers to cross the river in boats. Four regiments came forward. The pontoons were manned, and though many lives were lost during the transit, the gallant Federals pushed quickly across; others followed, and Barksdale, who had no orders to hold the place against superior strength, withdrew his men from the river bank. About 4.30 P.M., three bridges being at last established, the enemy pushed forward, and the Mississippians, retiring in good order, evacuated Fredericksburg. A mile below, near the mouth of Hazel Run, the Confederate outposts had been driven in, and three more bridges had been thrown across. Thus on the night of the 11th the Federals, who were now organised in three Grand Divisions, each of two army corps, had established their advanced guards on the right bank of the Rappahannock, and, under cover of the batteries on the Stafford Heights, could rapidly and safely pass over their great host of 120,000 men.* (* The three Grand Divisions were commanded by Sumner, Hooker, and Franklin.)