The Other Side of the River

Near Chancellorsville, Virginia, May 1, 1863

Lee looked over at him. The flickering campfire was reflected in Jackson's face. Jackson said nothing but continued to study the map by the light of the lamp set on the wooden carton nearby. He coughed and wiped his nose with a handkerchief. At last he looked up. His face was flushed, his eyes intensely bright. "I think we can do it!" he muttered half aloud.
Lee watched him carefully and thought. There it is. There is no doubt about it. He has already made the decision. I marvel at his audacity! How can he so quickly come to the decision that could destroy not only this army but also the Confederate nation? Even more important, will I allow him to implement it? Dear Lord, if ever I have stood in need of your wisdom, this is the moment. What shall I say to him?
At last he asked, "Well, General, what do you propose?"
Jackson broke his concentration and looked up. Without hesitation he replied, "I propose to move to the enemy's right flank by way of Catherine's Furnace. If our reports are correct, Hooker's right flank is in the air. If we strike him hard and roll up his flank, we can move quickly to the U.S. Ford and cut off his retreat . . . and if God wills, destroy him!"
Lee nodded. "Who will you take?" he asked quietly.
Jackson stared into the fire as he responded, "The attack must be overwhelming and devastating. Anything less would be a waste of time and disastrous for us." He stopped and then looked directly into Lee's face. "I propose to take my entire corps."
"But what will that leave me?" Lee blurted out the question before the full impact dawned on him. Longstreet and most of his corps were still absent from the army foraging in North Carolina. Only a few of his divisions were present.
"It will leave you McLaw's and Anderson's divisions."
So there it was. Lee was to face Hooker's sixty or seventy thousand Federals with about sixteen thousand men while Jackson went searching out Hooker's right flank. I wonder, he thought, is this high strategy or unbelievable foolishness? If it fails and our army is destroyed, the country will hold me responsible. Indeed, the country would not long survive such a disaster. And I should be the one to blame.
He pondered his options. Jackson is right, he reasoned. This is the way it must be. What we lack in numbers, supplies and equipment, we must make up with cunning and daring. Hooker knows Longstreet is not up, so he probably feels he has time to toy with us a bit. He has even sent his cavalry away. He is too confident, too cocky. I know him. His confidence is like a house of cards. Some unpredictable and inconceivable action on our part would cause that house of cards to fall apart. But can we do it? There is no choice. We must try. There is no other way.
He studied Jackson who sat silently staring into the fire, waiting for his decision. I am not sure I could trust any other man with this venture, Lee reflected. He is the only one who understands what we need to do and how to go about it with the necessary speed. He is the only one of my generals who can put aside personal ambition and go about his business in a workmanlike fashion. He sighed. This war will eventually change us all, and when we change, I suspect we shall all be more like Jackson: the glory of war totally bled out of us and only the cruel realities remaining. Jackson, though, is already beyond that point. If this works, Mr. Hooker will be in for a very hard time. If it fails, he comforted himself, the affairs of men are in the capable hands of the Almighty, and I am content to leave them there.
"Very well, General Jackson," he said, "move immediately. General Stuart will screen your movement as much as possible. General Hooker has conveniently sent his cavalry away, which may prove to be the decisive factor as to whether or not you can execute this movement without detection. Even if he discovers that you are moving, he may not guess what our intentions are. I shall make demonstrations here on Hooker's front. If we do it well and God blesses our endeavors, he will brace himself for an attack that will never come from an army a little larger than a corporal's guard."
"I also suspect," Lee added, "that after Fredericksburg, the Army of the Potomac will be extremely shy, less aggressive. Any suspicion on their part that we are about to attack on this front will send them into a frenzy of defensive preparations. It just might be enough of a distraction to allow us to get away with this harebrained venture."
Jackson smiled wanly and coughed again. Lee could see he was tired and had a cold as well. He added, "Establish a courier connection with my headquarters all along the way. If Hooker should fail to be impressed with our theatrics and begin to push at us, I shall have to recall you and reconcentrate immediately." He frowned as he considered the risk. "Now go, and may God bless your efforts and protect you. I will do everything in my power to distract those people yonder."
They stood up. Jackson nodded and started to move off quickly.
"Oh, one more thing, General," called Lee. Jackson looked back as the orderly handed him the reins of Little Sorrel. "Take care of yourself, and don't take unnecessary chances. The country has enough dead heroes. It is alive, competent commanders I require."
"I will try to be careful," promised Jackson. He and his staff started off down the road into the pre-dawn darkness. Lee watched them disappear. He was sorely tempted to call them back and cancel the entire desperate operation. The stakes were too high, the risk of failure too great. Appalling apparitions of the future raced through his brain, pronouncing him a fool.
Then slowly the memory of his father came into focus. Robert E. Lee was the son of Light Horse Harry Lee, the Revolutionary War hero and notorious gambler. He was the son of a man whose memory he both loved and hated. All of his life he had tried to be everything his father was not. He had recognized in his father's contemporary and friend, George Washington, all the virtues that Lee had sought all his life to make his own: dependability, steadfastness, temperance of heart and habit, a man of faith and principle. Certainly, his life had been an unswerving and successful proclamation that the weakness of the father had found no abiding place in the son.
Notwithstanding, he knew that it was not entirely so. The father's love of risk-taking was still very much present in the son. The difference was in the size of the stakes and the fact that the son never gambled foolishly. Lee was prepared to gamble his army and nation for the slim but very real possibility of a definitive victory. Moreover, he carried in his heart the sure knowledge that the Lord of Heaven ruled over all. For a gambler of the dimensions of Robert E. Lee, this confidence was his unassailable edge.