Stonewall Jackson and the American Civil War
intrenchments facing south. On the low hill eastward, where Talley’s
Farm, a small wooden cottage, stood in the midst of a wide clearing,
were two more German regiments
and two American. Then, near the junction of the roads, intervened a
patch of forest, which was occupied by four regiments, with a brigade
upon their left; and beyond, nearly a mile wide from north to south,
and five or six hundred yards in breadth, were the open fields round
the little Wilderness Church, dipping at first to a shallow brook, and
then rising gradually to a house called Dowdall’s Tavern. In these
fields, south of the turnpike, were the breastworks held by the second
division of the Eleventh Army Corps; and here were six regiments, with
several batteries in close support. The 60th New York and 26th
Wisconsin, near the Hawkins House at the north end of the fields, faced
to the west; the remainder all faced south. Beyond Dowdall’s Tavern
rose the forest, dark and impenetrable to the view; but to the
south-east, nearly two miles from Talley’s, the clearings of Hazel
Grove were plainly visible. This part of the line, originally entrusted
to General Sickles, was now unguarded, for two divisions of the Third
Corps were moving on the Furnace; and the nearest force which could
render support to Howard’s was Berry’s division, retained in reserve
north-east of Chancellorsville, three miles distant from Talley’s Farm
and nearly two from Howard’s left.
The Confederates, meanwhile, were rapidly forming for attack.
Notwithstanding their fatigue, for many of the brigades had marched
over fifteen miles, the men were in the highest spirits. A young
staff-officer, who passed along the column, relates that he was
everywhere recognised with the usual greetings. “Say, here’s one of old
Jack’s little boys; let him by, boys!” “Have a good breakfast this
morning, sonny?” “Better hurry up, or you’ll catch it for gettin’
behind.” “Tell old Jack we’re all a-comin’. Don’t let him begin the
fuss till we get there!” But on reaching the turnpike orders were given
that all noise should cease, and the troops, deploying for a mile or
more on either side of the road, took up their formation for attack. In
front were the skirmishers of Rodes’ division, under Major Blackford;
four hundred yards in rear came the lines of battle, Rodes forming the
first line;[5] Colston, at two hundred yards distance, the second line;
A. P. Hill, part in line and part in column, the third. In little more
than an hour-and-a-half, notwithstanding the dense woods, the formation
was completed, and the lines dressed at the proper angle to the road.
5.45 p.m. Notwithstanding that the enemy might at any moment awake to
their danger, not a single precaution was neglected. Jackson was
determined that the troops should move forward in good order, and that
every officer and man should know what was expected from him.
Staff-officers had been stationed at various points to maintain
communication between the divisions, and the divisional and brigade
commanders had received their instructions. The whole force was to push
resolutely forward through the forest. The open hill, about a thousand
yards eastward, on which stood Talley’s Farm, was to be carried at all
hazard, for, so far as could be ascertained, it commanded, over an
intervening patch of forest, the ridge which ran north from Dowdall’s
Tavern. After the capture of the heights at Talley’s, if the Federals
showed a determined front on their second line, Rodes was to halt under
cover until the artillery could come up and dislodge them. Under no
other circumstances was there to be any pause in the advance. A brigade
of the first line was detailed to guard the right flank, a regiment the
left; and the second and third lines were ordered to support the first,
whenever it might be necessary, without waiting for further
instructions. The field hospital was established at the Old Wilderness
Tavern.
The men were in position, eagerly awaiting the signal; their quick
intelligence had already realised the situation, and all was life and
animation. Across the narrow clearing stretched the long grey lines,
penetrating far into the forest on either flank; in the centre, on the
road, were four
Napoleon guns, the horses fretting with excitement; far to the rear,
their rifles glistening under the long shafts of the setting sun, the
heavy columns of A. P. Hill’s division were rapidly advancing, and the
rumble of the artillery, closing to the front, grew louder and louder.
Jackson, watch in hand, sat silent on “Little Sorrel,” his slouched hat
drawn low over his eyes, and his lips tightly compressed. On his right
was General Rodes, tall, lithe, and soldierly, and on Rodes’ right was
Major Blackford.
“Are you ready, General Rodes?” said Jackson.
“Yes, sir,” said Rodes, impatient as his men.
“You can go forward, sir,” said Jackson.
6 p.m. A nod from Rodes was a sufficient order to Blackford, and the
woods rang with the notes of a single bugle. Back came the responses
from bugles to right and left, and the skirmishers, dashing through the
wild undergrowth, sprang eagerly to their work, followed by the quick
rush of the lines of battle. For a moment the troops seemed buried in
the thickets; then, as the enemy’s sentries, completely taken by
surprise, fired a few scattered shots, and the guns on the turnpike
came quickly into action, the echoes waked; through the still air of
the summer evening rang the rebel yell, filling the forest far to north
and south, and the hearts of the astonished Federals, lying idly behind
their breastworks, stood still within them.
So rapid was the advance, so utterly unexpected the attack, that the
pickets were at once over-run; and, crashing through the timber,
driving before it the wild creatures of the forest, deer, and hares,
and foxes, the broad front of the mighty torrent bore down upon
Howard’s flank. For a few moments the four regiments which formed his
right, supported by two guns, held staunchly together, and even checked
for a brief space the advance of O’Neal’s brigade. But from the right
and from the left the grey infantry swarmed round them; the second line
came surging forward to O’Neal’s assistance; the gunners were shot down
and their pieces captured; and in ten minutes the right brigade of the
Federal army,
submerged by numbers, was flying in panic across the clearing, Here,
near Talley’s Farm, on the fields south of the turnpike and in the
forest to the north, another brigade, hastily changing front, essayed
to stay the rout. But Jackson’s horse-artillery, moving forward at a
gallop, poured in canister at short range; and three brigades,
O’Neal’s, Iverson’s, and Doles’, attacked the Northerners fiercely in
front and flank. No troops, however brave, could have long withstood
that overwhelming rush. The slaughter was very great; every mounted
officer was shot down, and in ten or fifteen minutes the fragments of
these hapless regiments were retreating rapidly and tumultuously
towards the Wilderness Church.
The first position had been captured, but there was no pause in the
attack. As Jackson, following the artillery, rode past Talley’s Farm,
and gazed across the clearing to the east, he saw a sight which raised
high his hopes of a decisive victory. Already, in the green cornfields,
the spoils of battle lay thick around him. Squads of prisoners were
being hurried to the rear. Abandoned guns, and waggons overturned, the
wounded horses still struggling in the traces, were surrounded by the
dead and dying of Howard’s brigades. Knapsacks, piled in regular order,
arms, blankets, accoutrements, lay in profusion near the breastworks;
and beyond, under a rolling cloud of smoke and dust, the bare fields,
sloping down to the brook, were covered with fugitives. Still further
eastward, along the plank road, speeding in wild confusion towards
Chancellorsville, was a dense mass of men and waggons; cattle, maddened
with fright, were rushing to and fro, and on the ridge beyond the
little church, pushing their way through the terror-stricken throng
like ships through a heavy sea, or breaking into fragments before the
pressure, the irregular lines of a few small regiments were moving
hastily to the front. At more than one point on the edge of the distant
woods guns were coming into action; the hill near Talley’s Farm was
covered with projectiles; men were falling, and the Confederate first
line was already in some confusion.
Galloping up the turnpike, and urging the artillery
forward with voice and gesture, Jackson passed through the ranks of his
eager infantry; and then Rodes’s division, rushing down the wooded
slopes, burst from the covert, and, driving their flying foes before
them, advanced against the trenches on the opposite ridge. Here and
there the rush of the first line was checked by the bold resistance of
the German regiments. On the right, especially, progress was slow, for
Colquitt’s brigade, drawn off by the pressure of Federal outposts in
the woods to the south, had lost touch with the remainder of the
division; Ramseur’s brigade in rear had been compelled to follow suit,
and on this flank the Federals were most effectively supported by their
artillery. But Iverson, O’Neal, and Doles, hardly halting to reform as
they Left the woods, and followed closely by the second line, swept
rapidly across the fields, dashed back the regiments which sought to
check them, and under a hot fire of grape and canister pressed
resolutely forward.
The rifle-pits on the ridge were occupied by the last brigade of
Howard’s Army Corps. A battery was in rear, three more were on the
left, near Dowdall’s Tavern, and many of the fugitives from Talley’s
Farm had rallied behind the breastwork. But a few guns and four or five
thousand rifles, although the ground to the front was clear and open,
were powerless to arrest the rush of Jackson’s veterans. The long lines
of colours, tossing redly above the swiftly moving ranks, never for a
moment faltered; the men, running alternately to the front, delivered
their fire, stopped for a moment to load, and then again ran on. Nearer
and nearer they came, until the defenders of the trenches, already half
demoralised, could mark through the smoke-drift the tanned faces, the
fierce eyes, and the gleaming bayonets of their terrible foes. The guns
were already flying, and the position was outflanked; yet along the
whole length of the ridge the parapets still blazed with fire; and
while men fell headlong in the Confederate ranks, for a moment there
was a check. But it was the check of a mighty wave, mounting slowly to
full volume, ere it falls in thunder on the shrinking sands. Running to
the front with uplifted swords, the officers gave the signal for the
charge.
The men answered with a yell of triumph; the second line, closing
rapidly on the first, could no longer be restrained; and as the grey
masses, crowding together in their excitement, breasted the last slope,
the Federal infantry, in every quarter of the field, gave way before
them; the ridge was abandoned, and through the dark pines beyond rolled
the rout of the Eleventh Army Corps.
7 p.m. It was seven o’clock. Twilight was falling on the woods; and
Rodes’ and Colston’s divisions had become so inextricably mingled that
officers could not find their men nor men their officers. But Jackson,
galloping into the disordered ranks, directed them to press the
pursuit. His face was aglow with the blaze of battle. His swift
gestures and curt orders, admitting of no question, betrayed the fierce
intensity of his resolution. Although the great tract of forest,
covering Chancellorsville on the west, had swallowed up the fugitives,
he had no need of vision to reveal to him the extent of his success.