Brave Deeds of Union Soldiers

by Samuel Scoville

Well might it have been said to him as to another boaster in the days of old, "Let not him that girdeth on his armor boast as him that taketh it off."

The morning of the battle came and Hooker said to his generals that he had the Confederates where God Almighty Himself could not save them. At first Lee retreated before his advance, but when he had reached a favorable position, suddenly turned and drove back the Union forces with such energy that Hooker lost heart and ordered his men to fall back to a better position. This was done against the protests of all of his division commanders who felt as did Meade, afterward the hero of Gettysburg, who exclaimed to General Hooker, "If we can't hold the top of a hill, we certainly can't hold the bottom of it."

In the Woods Near Chancellorsville

Hooker took a position in the Wilderness, a tangled forest mixed with impenetrable thickets of dwarf oak and underbrush. Here he hoped that Lee would make a direct attack, but this pause gave the great Confederate general the one chance which he wanted. All that night Jackson with thirty thousand men marched half-way round the Union Army. Again and again word was sent to Hooker that the Confederate forces were marching toward his flank, but he could see in the movement nothing but a retreat and sent word that they were withdrawing so as to save their baggage trains. At three o'clock the next afternoon Jackson was at last in position. In front of Hooker's army lay the main forces of Lee. Half-way to the rear of his forces were Jackson's magnificent veterans. The first warning of the fatal attack which nearly caused the loss of the great Union Army of the Potomac came from the wild rush of deer and rabbits which had been driven from their lairs by the quick march of the Confederate soldiers through the forest. Following the charge of the frightened animals came the tremendous attack of Jackson's infantry, the toughest, hardiest, bravest, best-trained troops in the Confederate Army. The Union soldiers fought well, but they were new troops taken by surprise and as soon as the roar of the volleys of the attacking Confederates sounded from the rear, Lee advanced, with every man in his army and smashed into Hooker's front. The surprise and the shock of possible defeat instead of expected victory was too much for a man of Hooker's temperament. At the time when he most needed a clear mind and unflinching nerve, he fell into a state of almost complete nervous collapse. The battle was practically fought without a leader, every corps commander did the best he could, but in a short time the converging attacks of the two great Confederate leaders cut the army in two and defeat was certain. At this time came the greatest loss which the Confederate Army had received up to that day. Stonewall Jackson's men had charged through the forest and cut deeply into the flank of the Union Army. After their charge the Confederate front was in confusion owing to the thick and tangled woods in which they fought. Jackson had ridden forward beyond his troops in order to reform them. The fleeing Union soldiers rallied for a minute and fired a volley at the little party which Jackson was leading. He turned back to rejoin his own troops and in the darkness and confusion he and his men were mistaken for Union cavalry and received a volley from their own forces which dashed Jackson out of his saddle with a wound in his left arm which afterward turned out to be mortal. At that time General Lee sent his celebrated message to Jackson, "You are luckier than I for your left arm only is wounded, but when you were disabled, I lost my right arm."

In a short time the whole Union Army was nothing but a disorganized mass of men, horses, ambulance-wagons, artillery and commissary trains, all striving desperately to cross the Rappahannock before the pursuing Confederates could turn the retreat into a massacre. Unless the Confederate pursuit could be held back long enough to let the men cross the river and reform on the opposite bank, the whole army was lost. History is full of the terrible disasters which overtake an army which is caught by the enemy while in the confusion of crossing a river. General Pleasonton of Pennsylvania was in command of the rear of the Federal retreat. He was striving desperately to mount his guns so as to sweep the only road which led to the river and hold back the Confederate forces long enough to let his men cross. Already the van of the Union Army had reached the ford when far down the road appeared the whole corps of Stonewall Jackson, maddened by the loss of their great leader. Every man that Pleasonton had was working desperately to get the guns into position, but it was evident that they would be captured and their pursuers would sweep into the huddle which was crossing the river unless something could be done to hold them back. As the general looked silently down the road, he saw near to him Major Keenan of the Pennsylvania cavalry. Keenan had been a porter in a Philadelphia store, but his rare faculty for handling men and horses had made him one of the most efficient cavalry officers of any Pennsylvania regiment. The three companies which were with him were all the cavalry that Pleasonton had. They were bringing up the rear of the retreat like a pack of wolves who, though driven back from their prey, move off sullenly only waiting for the signal from their leader to turn again and fight. General Pleasonton had rallied his gunners and they would stand if only they had a chance. There was no hope of bringing any order into the mass of broken, terrified infantry rushing on toward the river.

"Major Keenan," shouted General Pleasonton, "how many men have you got?"

"Three hundred, General," replied Keenan, quietly.

"Major," said the general, low and earnestly, riding up to him, "we must have ten minutes to save the Army of the Potomac. Charge the Confederate advance and hold them!"

Keenan never hesitated. When the Six Hundred charged at Balaclava, some of them came back from the bite of the Russian sabres and the roar of the Muscovite guns. When Pickett made that desperate, fatal charge at Gettysburg, there was still a chance to retreat, but Major Keenan knew that when three hundred cavalry met the fixed bayonets of thirty thousand infantry on a narrow road, not one would ever return. It was not a splendid charge which might mean laurels of victory, but a hopeless going to death, the buying of ten minutes of time with the lives of three hundred men, yet neither Keenan nor his men questioned the price nor flinched at the order.