IV. ANTIETAM. I. PRELUDE TO ANTIETAM. Ar Chantilly, Lee sat alone in his tent, revolving in his mind the events of that astonishing campaign which had witnessed the defeat of two Union armies whose broken fragments lay on the Potomac like the stranded wreck of a noble fleet. While thus the Confederate commander meditated, there dawned upon him the conception of a stroke more bold than all the deeds yet done a stroke which seemed to make past performance tame by the plenitude of its promise. That for which he had assumed the offensive was already attainedthe armies of McClellan and Pope had been hurled back to the point whence they set out in the campaign of the spring and summer, the siege of Richmond was raised, the war was transferred from the banks of the James and Rapidan to the borders of the Potomac. Why should he not now pass the borders, raise the standard of revolt on Northern soil, overwhelm the demoralized remnants of his adversary and dictate a peace in the capital of the Union? The thought, assuming shape in his mind determined itself in a resolve, and hastily penning a despatch, Lee, from Chantilly on the night of the 2d September, 1862, announced to the Chief of the Confederacy in Richmond his purpose to move on the morrow into Maryland. Such was the origin of that first Confederate invasion which culminated in the battle of Antietam - the memorable combat which forms the subject-matter of the present chapter. Let us review in rapid retrospect those antecedent operations in Virginia that allured the Confederate commander to this seductive but fatal adventure. The Spring campaign in Virginia opened with a bold stroke and high promise. The Union army, by a vigorous initiative, at once reduced the Confederates to an attitude of defence. Johnston fell back from Manassas behind the Rapidan. MeClellan moved to Fortress Monroe. But, from the moment the Army of the Potomac landed on the Peninsula, there arose in the minds of those who controlled the military councils at Washington a sense of insecurity touching the safety of the National capital, from the defence of which they had seen the noble army that had been created under its walls taken away in ships to a far distant base. This sentiment, entertained in all honesty but in ignorance of the true principles of war, by the President, by his Cabinet, and by Congress, gave the first blow to the success of the Peninsular campaign. The powerful corps of McDowell, thirty thousand strong, when on the point of embarking at Alexandria to follow its comrades to Fortress Monroe, was arrested and retained in front of Washington. The measure added no real security to the capital, the safety of which rested less in the presence of a covering force than in the vigor with which Richmond should be assailed. But it greatly weakened the Army of the Potomac. The second blow was still more fatal. The hope of the Peninsular campaign lay in the expectation of rapidly launching forward the Union army against Richmond. It was in its conception essentially an offensive manœuvre, wherein, by a quick advance, McClellan might fall upon the enemy's army before it could be strengthened, and on his capital ere yet it showed any bulwarks of defence. Should he be brought to a pause on the Peninsula, the movement, ceasing to be an offensive manœuvre, would become a mere transfer of base, followed by a long and laborious process of forced efforts the enemy having on his side all the advantage of time. When the army of Napoleon, in 1800, debouched by the pass of Saint Bernard into the plains of Italy, it suddenly found its progress checked by the cannon of Fort Bard, guarding the valley of the Doria, through which the army must pass so that at the very moment when it was fancied every difficulty was overcome, an obstacle presented itself that threatened to utterly defeat Napoleon's bold campaign. A like obstruction now arose before the Army of the Potomac. It found itself brought to a halt in front of the works of Yorktown-works the existence of which was indeed well known to McClellan, but the real nature of which proved to be different from all anticipation. Unhappily McClellan was not capable of the kind of stroke by which Napoleon overcame Fort Bard. The rivers on either flank were closed to the fleet; the line of fortification was adjudged inassailable by a direct attack; and the Union general deemed it necessary to undertake a siege. It was a great misfortune; for though Johnston, seeing the formidable offensive preparations of his antagonist, at length abandoned the lines of Yorktown, yet their tenure gained for the Confederates a month of precious time that was employed in preparations which doubled the difficulties the Army of the Potomac was doomed to en counter. From Yorktown the Army of the Potomac advanced on the heels of the Confederates, who retired up the Peninsula towards Richmond. Accident precipitated, on the way, the battle of Williamsburg (May 5), a combat which, though characterized by little of generalship, served to illustrate the superb fighting qualities of the troops. Johnston was forced to withdraw in consequence of a flank movement by Hancock; |