The world had called Lee cautious. After this invasion, that charge was
not repeated. From first to last audacity seemed the sentiment
inspiring him.

With Hooker on the Rappahannock, threatening Richmond, Lee thrust his
advance force under Ewell through the Blue Ridge toward Maryland;
pushed Longstreet up to Culpeper to support him, and kept only A.P.
Hill at Fredericksburg to bar the road to the Confederate capital.

Hooker wished to advance upon it, but President Lincoln forbade him.
The dispatch was a queer official document.

"In case you find Lee coming to the north of the Rappahannock," Lincoln
wrote, "I would by no means cross to the south of it. I would not take
any risk of being entangled upon the river, _like an ox jumped half
over a fence, and liable to be torn by dogs, front and rear, without a
fair chance to gore one way or kick the other._"

Ludicrous perhaps, but to the point; the "Rail-Splitter" was not always
dignified, but often judicious. Chancellorsville had been defeat--Lee's
assault, foreboded thus by Lincoln, would be death.

Hooker fell back, therefore, in the direction of Washington. Lee had
foreseen that fact, and had given himself small anxiety. His three
corps were already in full motion toward the Potomac; and suddenly the
thunder of artillery came on the winds of the mountains.

Ewell, the head of the Southern spear, was driving at Milroy, holding
Winchester. The struggle was brief. General Milroy had put the iron
heel on the poor valley; had oppressed the unfortunate people beyond