M’DOWELL
The stars were still shining when the Confederates began their retreat
from Kernstown. With the exception of seventy, all the wounded had been
brought in, and the army followed the ambulances as far as Woodstock.
March 25 There was little attempt on the part of the Federals to
improve their victory. The hard fighting of the Virginians had left its
impress on the generals. Jackson’s numbers were estimated at 15,000,
and Banks, who arrived in time to take direction of the pursuit,
preferred to wait till Williams’ two brigades came up before he moved.
He encamped that night at Cedar Creek, eight miles from Kernstown. The
next day he reached Strasburg. The cavalry pushed on to near Woodstock,
and there, for the time being, the pursuit terminated. Shields, who
remained at Winchester to nurse his wound, sent enthusiastic telegrams
announcing that the retreat was a flight, and that the houses along the
road were filled with Jackson’s dead and dying; yet the truth was that
the Confederates were in nowise pressed, and only the hopeless cases
had been left behind.[1] Had the 2,000 troopers at Banks’ disposal been
sent forward at daybreak on the 24th, something might have been done.
The squadrons, however, incapable of moving across country, were
practically useless in pursuit; and to start even at daybreak was to
start too late. If the fruits of victory are to be secured, the work
must be put in hand whilst the enemy is still reeling under the shock.
A few hours’ delay gives him time to recover his equilibrium,
to organise a rear-guard, and to gain many miles on his rearward march.
March 26 On the night of the 26th, sixty hours after the battle ceased,
the Federal outposts were established along Tom’s Brook, seventeen
miles from Kernstown. On the opposite bank were Ashby’s cavalry, while
Burks’ brigade lay at Woodstock, six miles further south. The remainder
of the Valley army had reached Mount Jackson.
These positions were occupied until April 1, and for six whole days
Banks, with 19,000 men, was content to observe a force one-sixth his
strength, which had been defeated by just half the numbers he had now
at his disposal. This was hardly the “vigorous action” which McClellan
had demanded. “As soon as you are strong enough,” he had telegraphed,
“push Jackson hard, drive him well beyond Strasburg, pursuing at least
as far as Woodstock, if possible, with cavalry to Mount Jackson.”[2]
In vain he reiterated the message on the 27th: “Feel Jackson’s
rear-guard smartly and push him well.” Not a single Federal crossed
Tom’s Brook. “The superb scenery of the Valley,” writes General G. H.
Gordon, a comrade of Jackson’s at West Point, and now commanding the
2nd Massachusetts, one of Banks’ best regiments, “opened before us—the
sparkling waters of the Shenandoah, winding between the parallel
ranges, the groves of cedar and pine that lined its banks, the rolling
surfaces of the Valley, peacefully resting by the mountain side, and
occupied by rich fields and quiet farms. A mile beyond I could see the
rebel cavalry. Sometimes the enemy amused himself by throwing shells at
our pickets, when they were a little too venturesome; but beyond a
feeble show of strength and ugliness, nothing transpired to disturb the
dulness of the camp.”[3]
Banks, far from all support, and with a cavalry unable to procure
information, was by no means free from apprehension. Johnston had
already fallen back into the interior
of Virginia, and the Army of the Potomac, instead of following him, was
taking ship at Alexandria. Information had reached Strasburg that the
Confederates were behind the Rapidan, with their left at Gordonsville.
Now Gordonsville is sixty-five miles, or four marches, from Mount
Jackson, and there was reason to believe that reinforcements had
already been sent to Jackson from that locality. On March 25 Banks
telegraphed to Mr. Stanton: “Reported by rebel Jackson’s aide (a
prisoner) that they were assured of reinforcements to 30,000, but don’t
credit it.” On March 26: “The enemy is broken, but will rally. Their
purpose is to unite Jackson’s and Longstreet’s[4] forces, some 20,000,
at New Market (seven miles south of Mount Jackson) or Washington (east
of Blue Ridge) in order to operate on either side of the mountains, and
will desire to prevent our junction with the force at Manassas. At
present they will not attack here. It will relieve me greatly to know
how far the enemy (_i.e._ Johnston) will be pressed in front of
Manassas.” On the 27th his news was less alarming: “Enemy is about four
miles below Woodstock. No reinforcement received yet. Jackson has
constant communication with Johnston, who is east of the mountains,
probably at Gordonsville. His pickets are very strong and vigilant,
none of the country people being allowed to pass the lines under any
circumstances. The same rule is applied to troops, stragglers from
Winchester not being permitted to enter their lines. We shall press
them further and quickly.”
The pressure, however, was postponed; and on the 29th McClellan desired
Banks to ascertain the intentions of the enemy as soon as possible, and
if he were in force to drive him from the Valley of the Shenandoah.
Thus spurred, Banks at last resolved to cross the Rubicon.
“Deficiency,” he replied, “in ammunition for Shields’ artillery detains
us here; expect it hourly, when we shall push Jackson sharply.” It was
not, however, till April 2, four days later, that Mr. Lincoln’s
_protégé_ crossed Tom’s Brook. His advanced guard, after a brisk
skirmish with Ashby, reached the village of Edenburg, ten miles south,
the
same evening. The main body occupied Woodstock, and McClellan
telegraphed that he was “much pleased with the vigorous pursuit!”
It is not impossible that Banks suspected that McClellan’s
commendations were ironical. In any case, praise had no more effect
upon him than a peremptory order or the promise of reinforcements. He
was instructed to push forward as far as New Market; he was told that
he would be joined by two regiments of cavalry, and that two brigades
of Blenker’s division were marching to Strasburg. But Jackson, although
Ashby had been driven in, still held obstinately to his position, and
from Woodstock and Edenburg Banks refused to move.
On April 4, becoming independent of McClellan,[5] he at once reported
to the Secretary of War that he hoped “immediately to strike Jackson an
effective blow.” “Immediately,” however, in Banks’ opinion, was capable
of a very liberal interpretation, for it was not till April 17 that he
once more broke up his camps. Well might Gordon write that life at
Edenburg became monotonous!
It is but fair to mention that during the whole of this time Banks was
much troubled about supply and transport. His magazines were at
Winchester, connected with Harper’s Ferry and Washington by a line of
railway which had been rapidly repaired, and on April 12 this line had
become unserviceable through the spreading of the road-bed.[6] His
waggon train, moreover, had been diverted to Manassas before the fight
at Kernstown, and was several days late in reaching Strasburg. The
country in which he was operating was rich, and requisitions were made
upon the farmers; but in the absence of the waggons, according to his
own report, it was impossible to collect sufficient supplies for a
further advance.[7] The weather, too, had been unfavourable. The first
days of April were like summer. “But hardly,” says
Gordon, “had we begun to feel in harmony with sunny days and blooming
peach trees and warm showers, before a chill came over us, bitter as
the hatred of the women of Virginia: the ground covered with snow, the
air thick with hail, and the mountains hidden in the chilly atmosphere.
Our shivering sentinels on the outer lines met at times the gaze of
half-frozen horsemen of the enemy, peering through the mist to see what
the Yankees had been doing within the last twenty-four hours. It was
hard to believe that we were in the ‘sunny South.’”
All this, however, was hardly an excuse for absolute inaction. The
Confederate position on the open ridge called Rude’s Hill, two and a
half miles south of Mount Jackson, was certainly strong. It was
defended in front by Mill Creek, swollen by the snows to a turbulent
and unfordable river; and by the North Fork of the Shenandoah. But with
all its natural strength Rude’s Hill was but weakly held, and Banks
knew it. Moreover, it was most unlikely that Jackson would be
reinforced, for Johnston’s army, with the exception of a detachment
under General Ewell, had left Orange Court House for Richmond on April
5. “The enemy,” Banks wrote to McClellan on April 6, “is reduced to
about 6,000 men (_sic_), much demoralised by defeat, desertion, and the
general depression of spirits resting on the Southern army. He is not
in a condition to attack, neither to make a strong resistance, and I do
not believe he will make a determined stand there. I do not believe
Johnston will reinforce him.” If Banks had supplies enough to enable
him to remain at Woodstock, there seems to have been no valid reason
why he should not have been able to drive away a demoralised enemy, and
to hold a position twelve miles further south.
But the Federal commander, despite his brave words, had not yet got rid
of his misgivings. Jackson had lured him into a most uncomfortable
situation. Between the two branches of the Shenandoah, in the very
centre of the Valley, rises a gigantic mass of mountain ridges,
parallel throughout their length of fifty miles to the Blue Ridge and
the Alleghanies. These are the famous Massanuttons, the
glory of the Valley. The peaks which form their northern faces sink as
abruptly to the level near Strasburg as does the single hill which
looks down on Harrisonburg. Dense forests of oak and pine cover ridge
and ravine, and 2,500 feet below, on either hand, parted by the mighty
barrier, are the dales watered by the Forks of the Shenandoah. That to
the east is the narrower and less open; the Blue Ridge is nowhere more
than ten miles distant from the Massanuttons, and the space between
them, the Luray or the South Fork Valley, through which a single road
leads northward, is clothed by continuous forest. West of the great
mountain, a broad expanse of green pasture and rich arable extends to
the foothills of the Alleghanies, dotted with woods and homesteads, and
here, in the Valley of the North Fork, is freer air and more space for
movement.
The separation of the two valleys is accentuated by the fact that save
at one point only the Massanuttons are practically impassable. From New
Market, in the western valley, a good road climbs the heights, and
crossing the lofty plateau, sinks sharply down to Luray, the principal
village on the South Fork. Elsewhere precipitous gullies and sheer rock
faces forbid all access to the mountain, and a few hunters’ paths alone
wind tediously through the woods up the steep hillside. Nor are signal
stations to be found on the wide area of unbroken forest which clothes
the summit. Except from the peaks at either end, or from one or two
points on the New Market–Luray road, the view is intercepted by the sea
of foliage and the rolling spurs.
Striking eastward from Luray, two good roads cross the Blue Ridge; one
running to Culpeper Court House, through Thornton’s Gap; the other
through Fisher’s Gap to Gordonsville.
It was the Massanuttons that weighed on the mind of Banks. The Valley
of the South Fork gave the Confederates a covered approach against his
line of communications. Issuing from that strait cleft between the
mountains Ashby’s squadrons might at any time sweep down upon his
trains of waggons, his hospitals, and his magazines; and
should Jackson be reinforced, Ashby might be supported by infantry and
guns, and both Strasburg and Winchester be endangered. It was not
within Banks’ power to watch the defile. “His cavalry,” he reported,
“was weak in numbers and spirit, much exhausted with night and day
work.” Good cavalry, he declared, would help incalculably, and he
admitted that in this arm he was greatly inferior to the enemy.
Nor was he more happy as to the Alleghanies on his right. Frémont was
meditating an advance on Lewisburg, Staunton, and the Virginia and
Tennessee Railway with 25,000 men.[8] One column was to start from
Gauley Bridge, in the Kanawha Valley; the other from the South Branch
of the Potomac. Milroy’s brigade, from Cheat Mountain, had therefore
occupied Monterey, and Schenck’s brigade had marched from Romney to
Moorefield. But Moorefield was thirty miles west of Woodstock, and
between them rose a succession of rugged ridges, within whose deep
valleys the Confederate horsemen might find paths by which to reach to
Banks’ rear.
It was essential, then, that his communications should be strongly
guarded, and as he advanced up the Valley his force had diminished at
every march. According to his own report he had, on April 6, 16,700 men
fit for duty. Of these 4,100 were detached along the road from
Woodstock to Harper’s Ferry. His effective strength for battle was thus
reduced to 12,600, or, including the troops escorting convoys and the
garrison of Strasburg, to 14,500 men, with 40 pieces of artillery.[9]
Such were the considerations that influenced the Federal commander. Had
he occupied New Market, as McClellan had desired, he would have secured
the Luray road, have opened the South Fork Valley to his scouts, and
have overcome half the difficulties presented by the Massanuttons. A
vigorous advance would have turned the attention of the Confederates
from his communications to their own; and to drive Jackson from the
Valley was the best method
of protecting the trains and the magazines. But Banks was not inclined
to beard the lion in his den, and on April 16 Jackson had been
unmolested for more than three weeks. Ashby’s troopers were the only
men who had even seen the enemy. Daily that indefatigable soldier had
called to arms the Federal outposts. “Our stay at Edenburg,” says
Gordon, “was a continuous season of artillery brawling and picket
stalking. The creek that separated the outposts was not more than ten
yards wide. About one-fourth of a mile away there was a thick wood, in
which the enemy concealed his batteries until he chose to stir us up,
when he would sneak up behind the cover, open upon us at an unexpected
moment, and retreat rapidly when we replied.” It was doubtless by such
constant evidence of his vigilance that Ashby imposed caution on the
enemy’s reconnoitring parties. The fact remains that Jackson’s camps,
six miles to the rear, were never once alarmed, nor could Banks obtain
any reliable information.
This period of repose was spent by Jackson in reorganising his
regiments, in writing letters to his wife, and, like his old
class-mate, Gordon, in admiring the scenery. It is not to be supposed
that his enforced inaction was altogether to his taste. With an enemy
within sight of his outposts his bold and aggressive spirit must have
been sorely tried. But with his inferior numbers prudence cried
patience, and he had reason to be well content with the situation. He
had been instructed to prevent Banks from detaching troops to reinforce
McClellan. To attain an object in war the first consideration is to
make no mistakes yourself; the next, to take instant advantage of those
made by your opponent. But compliance with this rule does not embrace
the whole art of generalship. The enemy may be too discreet to commit
himself to risky manœuvres. If the campaigns of the great masters of
war are examined, it will be found that they but seldom adopted a
quiescent attitude, but by one means or another, by acting on their
adversary’s _moral,_ or by creating false impressions, they induced him
to make a false step, and to place himself in a position which made it
easy for them
to attain their object. The greatest general has been defined as “he
who makes the fewest mistakes;” but “he who compels his adversary to
make the most mistakes” is a definition of equal force; and it may even
be questioned whether the general whose imagination is unequal to the
stratagems which bring mistakes about is worthy of the name. He may be
a trustworthy subordinate, but he can scarcely become a great leader.
Johnston had advised, when, at the beginning of March, the retreat of
the Confederates from Winchester was determined on, that Jackson should
fall back on Front Royal, and thence, if necessary, up the South Fork
of the Shenandoah. His force would thus be in close communication with
the main army behind the Rapidan; and it was contrary, in the
General-in-Chief’s opinion, to all sound discretion to permit the enemy
to attain a point, such as Front Royal, which would render it possible
for him to place himself between them. Jackson, however, declared his
preference for a retreat up the North Fork, in the direction of
Staunton. Why should Banks join McClellan at all? McClellan, so Jackson
calculated, had already more men with him than he could feed; and he
believed, therefore, that Staunton would be Banks’ objective, because,
by seizing that town, he would threaten Edward Johnson’s rear, open the
way for Frémont, and then, crossing the Blue Ridge, place himself so
near the communications of the main army with Richmond that it would be
compelled to fall back to defend them. Nor, in any case, did he agree
with Johnston that the occupation of Front Royal would prevent Banks
leaving the Valley and marching to Manassas. Twenty miles due east of
Winchester is Snicker’s Gap, where a good road crosses the Blue Ridge,
and eight miles south another turnpike leads over Ashby’s Gap. By
either of these Banks could reach Manassas just as rapidly as Jackson
could join Johnston; and, while 4,500 men could scarcely be expected to
detain 20,000, they might very easily be cut off by a portion of the
superior force.
If a junction with the main army were absolutely necessary, Jackson was
of opinion that the move ought to
be made at once, and the Valley abandoned. If, on the other hand, it
was desirable to keep Banks and McClellan separated, the best means of
doing so was to draw the former up the North Fork; and at Mount
Jackson, covering the New Market to Luray road, the Valley troops would
be as near the Rapidan as if they were at Front Royal.[10] The
strategical advantages which such a position would offer—the isolation
of the troops pursuing him, the chance of striking their communications
from the South Fork Valley, and, if reinforcements were granted, of
cutting off their retreat by a rapid movement from Luray to
Winchester—were always present to Jackson’s mind.[11]
An additional argument was that at the time when these alternatives
were discussed the road along South Fork was so bad as to make marching
difficult; and it was to this rather than to Jackson’s strategical
conceptions that Johnston appears to have ultimately yielded.
Be this as it may, the sum of Jackson’s operations was satisfactory in
the extreme. On March 27 he had written to Johnston, “I will try and
draw the enemy on.” On April 16 Banks was exactly where he wished him,
well up the North Fork of the Shenandoah, cut off by the Massanuttons
from Manassas, and by the Alleghanies from Frémont. The two detachments
which held the Valley, his own force at Mount Jackson, and Edward
Johnson’s 2,800 on the Shenandoah Mountain, were in close
communication, and could at any time, if permitted by the higher
authorities, combine against either of the columns which threatened
Staunton. “What I desire,” he said to Mr. Boteler, a friend in the
Confederate Congress, “is to hold the country, as far as practicable,
until we are in a condition to advance; and then, with God’s blessing,
let us make thorough work of it. But let us start right.”
On April 7 he wrote to his wife as follows:—
“Your sickness gives me great concern; but so live that it and all your
tribulations may be sanctified to you, remembering that our ‘light
afflictions, which are but for a
moment, work out for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of
glory!’ I trust you and all I have in the hands of a kind Providence,
knowing that all things work together for the good of His people.
Yesterday was a lovely Sabbath day. Although I had not the privilege of
hearing the word of life, yet it felt like a holy Sabbath day,
beautiful, serene, and lovely. All it wanted was the church-bell and
God’s services in the sanctuary to make it complete. Our gallant little
army is increasing in numbers, and my prayer is that it may be an army
of the living God as well as of its country.”
The troops, notwithstanding their defeat at Kernstown, were in high
spirits. The very slackness of the Federal pursuit had made them aware
that they had inflicted a heavy blow. They had been thanked by Congress
for their valour. The newspapers were full of their praises. Their
comrades were returning from hospital and furlough, and recruits were
rapidly coming in.[12] The mounted branch attracted the majority, and
Ashby’s regiment soon numbered more than 2,000 troopers. Their
commander, however, knew little of discipline. Besides himself there
was but one field-officer for one-and-twenty companies; nor had these
companies any regimental organisation. When Jackson attempted to reduce
this curiously constituted force to order, his path was once more
crossed by the Secretary of War. Mr. Benjamin, dazzled by Ashby’s
exploits, had given him authority to raise and command a force of
independent cavalry. A reference to this authority and a threat of
resignation was Ashby’s reply to Jackson’s orders. “Knowing Ashby’s
ascendency over his men, and finding himself thus deprived of
legitimate power, the general was constrained to pause, and the cavalry
was left unorganised and
undisciplined. One half was rarely available for duty. The remainder
were roaming over the country, imposing upon the generous hospitalities
of the citizens, or lurking in their homes. The exploits of their
famous leader were all performed with a few hundreds, or often scores,
of men, who followed him from personal devotion rather than force of
discipline.”[13]
By April 15 Jackson’s force had increased to 6,000 men.[14] McClellan
had now landed an army of over 100,000 at Fortress Monroe, on the
Yorktown Peninsula, and Johnston had marched thither to oppose him. The
weather had at last cleared; although the mountain pines stood deep in
snow the roads were in good order; the rivers were once more fordable;
the Manassas Gap Railway had been restored as far as Strasburg, and
Banks took heart of grace.
April 17 On the 17th his forces were put in motion. One of Ashby’s
companies was surprised and captured. A brigade was sent to turn the
Confederate left by a ford of the North Fork; and when the Virginians,
burning the railway station at Mount Jackson, fell back southwards, the
Federal cavalry seized New Market.
For the moment the situation of the Valley army was somewhat critical.
When Johnston marched to the Peninsula he had left a force of 8,000
men, under General Ewell, on the Upper Rappahannock, and with this
force Jackson had been instructed to co-operate. But with the road
across the Massanuttons in his possession Banks could move into the
Luray Valley, and occupying Swift Run Gap with a detachment, cut the
communication between the two Confederate generals. It was essential,
then, that this important pass should be secured, and Jackson’s men
were called on for a forced march.
April 18 On the morning of the 18th they reached Harrisonburg,
twenty-five miles from Mount Jackson, and halted the same evening at
Peale’s, about six miles east.
April 19 On the 19th they crossed the Shenandoah at Conrad’s store, and
leaving a detachment to hold the bridge, moved to the foot of Swift Run
Gap, and went into camp in Elk Run Valley. In three days they had
marched over fifty miles. Banks followed with his customary caution,
and when, on the 17th, his cavalry occupied New Market he was
congratulated by the Secretary of War on his “brilliant and successful
operations.” On the 19th he led a detachment across the Massanuttons,
and seized the two bridges over the South Fork at Luray, driving back a
squadron which Jackson had sent to burn them.
April 22 On the night of the 22nd his cavalry reached Harrisonburg, and
he reported that want of supplies alone prevented him from bringing the
Confederates to bay.
April 26 On the 26th he sent two of his five brigades to Harrisonburg,
the remainder halting at New Market, and for the last few days,
according to his own dispatches, beef, flour, and forage had been
abundant. Yet it had taken him ten days to march five-and-thirty miles.
April 20 On April 20 General Edward Johnson, menaced in rear by Banks’
advance, in flank by the brigade which Frémont had placed at
Moorefield, and in front by Milroy’s brigade, which had advanced from
Monterey, had fallen back from the Shenandoah Mountain to West View,
seven miles west of Staunton; and to all appearance the Federal
prospects were exceedingly favourable.
Harrisonburg is five-and-twenty miles, or two short marches, north of
Staunton. The hamlet of M’Dowell, now occupied by Milroy, is
seven-and-twenty miles north-west. Proper concert between Banks and
Frémont should therefore have ensured the destruction or retreat of
Edward Johnson, and have placed Staunton, as well as the Virginia
Central Railroad, in their hands. But although not a single picket
stood between his outposts and Staunton, Banks dared not move. By
moving to Elk Run Valley Jackson had barred the way of the Federals
more effectively than if he had intrenched his troops across the
Staunton road.
South of Harrisonburg, where the Valley widens to five-and-twenty
miles, there was no strong position. And even had such existed, 6,000
men, of which a third were cavalry, could scarcely have hoped to hold
it permanently against a far superior force. Moreover, cooped up inside
intrenchments, the Army of the Valley would have lost all freedom of
action; and Jackson would have been cut off both from Ewell and from
Richmond. But, although direct intervention was impracticable, he was
none the less resolved that Banks should never set foot in Staunton.
The Elk Run Valley was well adapted for his purpose. Spurs of the Blue
Ridge, steep, pathless, and densely wooded, covered either flank. The
front, protected by the Shenandoah, was very strong. Communication with
both Ewell and Richmond was secure, and so long as he held the bridge
at Conrad’s store he threatened the flank of the Federals should they
advance on Staunton. Strategically the position was by no means
perfect. The Confederates, to use an expression of General Grant’s,
applied to a similar situation, were “in a bottle.” A bold enemy would
have seized the bridge, “corking up” Jackson with a strong detachment,
and have marched on Staunton with his main body.
“Had Banks been more enterprising,” says Dabney, “this objection would
have been decisive.” But he was not enterprising, and Jackson knew
it.[15]He had had opportunities in plenty of judging his opponent’s
character. The slow advance on Winchester, the long delay at Woodstock,
the cautious approach to New Market, had revealed enough. It was a
month since the battle of Kernstown, and yet the Confederate infantry,
although for the greater part of the time they had been encamped within
a few miles of the enemy’s outposts, had not fired a shot.
The tardy progress of the Federals from Woodstock to Harrisonburg had
been due rather to the perplexities of
their commander than to the difficulties of supply; and Banks had got
clear of the Massanuttons only to meet with fresh embarrassments.
Jackson’s move to Elk Run Valley was a complete checkmate. His opponent
felt that he was dangerously exposed. McClellan had not yet begun his
advance on Richmond; and, so long as that city was secure from
immediate attack, the Confederates could spare men to reinforce
Jackson. The railway ran within easy reach of Swift Run Gap, and the
troops need not be long absent from the capital. Ewell, too, with a
force of unknown strength, was not far distant. Banks could expect no
help from Frémont. Both generals were anxious to work together, and
plans had been submitted to Washington which would probably have
secured the capture of Staunton and the control of the railway. But the
Secretary of War rejected all advice. Frémont was given to understand
that under no circumstances was he to count on Banks,[16] and the
latter was told to halt at Harrisonburg. “It is not the desire of the
President,” wrote Mr. Stanton on April 26, “that you should prosecute a
further advance towards the south. It is possible that events may make
it necessary to transfer the command of General Shields to the
department of the Rappahannock [_i.e._ to the First Army Corps], and
you are desired to act accordingly.” To crown all, Blenker’s division,
which had reached Winchester, instead of being sent to support Banks,
forty-five miles distant by the Valley turnpike, was ordered to join
Frémont in the Alleghanies by way of Romney, involving a march of one
hundred and twenty miles, over bad roads, before it could reinforce his
advanced brigade.
Stanton, in writing to Banks, suggested that he should not let his
advanced guard get too far ahead of the main body; but be does not
appear to have seen that the separation of Banks, Frémont, and Blenker,
and the forward position of the two former, which he had determined to
maintain, was even more dangerous.[17] His lesson was to come, for
Jackson, by no means content with arresting Banks’ march, was already
contemplating that general’s destruction.
The situation demanded instant action, and in order that the import of
Jackson’s movements may be fully realised it is necessary to turn to
the main theatre of war. McClellan, on April 5, with the 60,000 men
already landed, had moved a few miles up the Peninsula. Near the
village of Yorktown, famous for the surrender of Lord Cornwallis and
his army in 1782, he found the road blocked by a line of earthworks and
numerous guns. Magruder, Jackson’s captain in Mexico, was in command;
but Johnston was still on the Rapidan, one hundred and thirty miles
away, and the Confederates had no more than 15,000 men in position. The
flanks, however, were secured by the York and the James rivers, which
here expand to wide estuaries, and the works were strong. Yorktown
proved almost as fatal to the invaders as to their English
predecessors. Before the historic lines their march was suddenly
brought up. McClellan, although his army increased in numbers every
day, declined the swift process of a storm. Personal reconnaissance
convinced him that “instant assault would have been simple folly,” and
he determined to besiege the intrenchments in due form. On April 10
Johnston’s army began to arrive at Yorktown, and the lines, hitherto
held by a slender garrison, were now manned by 53,000 men.
The Confederate position was by no means impregnable. The river James
to the south was held by the “Merrimac,” an improvised ironclad of
novel design, which had already wrought terrible destruction amongst
the wooden frigates of the Federals. She was neutralised, however, by
her Northern counterpart, the “Monitor,” and after an indecisive action
she had remained inactive for nearly a month. The York was less
securely guarded. The channel, nearly a mile wide, was barred only by
the fire of two forts; and
that at Gloucester Point, on the north bank, was open to assault from
the land side. Had McClellan disembarked a detachment and carried this
work, which might easily have been done, the river would have been
opened to his gunboats, and Johnston’s lines have become untenable. He
decided, however, notwithstanding that his army was more than 100,000
strong, that he had no men to spare for such an enterprise.
Magruder’s bold stand was of infinite service to the Confederate cause.
To both parties time was of the utmost value. The Federals were still
over seventy miles from Richmond; and there was always a possibility,
if their advance were not rapidly pressed, that Johnston might move on
Washington and cause the recall of the army to protect the capital. The
Confederates, on the other hand, had been surprised by the landing of
McClellan’s army. They had been long aware that the flotilla had
sailed, but they had not discovered its destination; the detachments
which first landed were supposed to be reinforcements for the garrison
of the fortress; and when McClellan advanced on Yorktown, Johnston was
far to the west of Richmond. The delay had enabled him to reach the
lines.[18] But at the time Jackson fell back to Elk Run Valley, April
17 to 19, fortune seemed inclining to the Federals.
Lincoln had been induced to relax his hold on the army corps which he
had held back at Manassas to protect the capital, and McDowell was
already moving on Fredericksburg, sixty miles north of Richmond. Here
he was to be joined by Shields, bringing his force for the field up to
40,000 men; and the fall of Yorktown was to be the signal for his
advance on the Confederate capital. Johnston still held the lines, but
he was outnumbered by more than two to one, and the enemy was
disembarking heavy ordnance. It was evident that the end could not be
long delayed, and
that in case of retreat every single Confederate soldier, from the
Valley and elsewhere, would have to be brought to Richmond for the
decisive battle. Jackson was thus bound to his present position, close
to the railway, and his orders from Johnston confined him to a strictly
defensive attitude. In case Banks advanced eastward he was to combine
with Ewell, and receive attack in the passes of the Blue Ridge.
Such cautious strategy, to one so fully alive to the opportunity
offered by McClellan’s retention before Yorktown, was by no means
acceptable. When his orders reached him, Jackson was already weaving
plans for the discomfiture of his immediate adversary, and it may be
imagined with what reluctance, although he gave no vent to his chagrin,
he accepted the passive _rôle_ which had been assigned to him.
No sooner, however, had he reached Elk Run Valley than the telegraph
brought most welcome news. In a moment of unwonted wisdom the
Confederate President had charged General Lee with the control of all
military operations in Virginia, and on April 21 came a letter to
Jackson which foreshadowed the downfall of McClellan and the rout of
the invaders.
April 21 McDowell’s advance from Manassas had already become known to
the Confederates, and Lee had divined what this movement portended. “I
have no doubt,” he wrote to Jackson, “that an attempt will be made to
occupy Fredericksburg and use it as a base of operations against
Richmond. Our present force there is very small, (2,500 men under
General Field), and cannot be reinforced except by weakening other
corps. If you can use General Ewell’s division in an attack on Banks,
it will prove a great relief to the pressure on Fredericksburg.”[19]
This view of the situation was in exact agreement with Jackson’s own
views. He had already made preparation for combined action with Ewell.
For some days they had been in active correspondence. The exact route
which Ewell should take to the Blue Ridge had been decided on. The
roads had been reconnoitred. Jackson had supplied
a map identical with his own, and had furnished an officer to act as
guide. A service of couriers had been established across the mountains,
and no precaution had been neglected. Ewell was instructed to bring
five days’ rations. He was warned that there would be no necessity for
a forced march; he was to encamp at cross-roads, and he was to rest on
Sunday.[20]
April 23 Jackson, replying to Lee, stated that he was only waiting a
favourable occasion to fall on Banks. “My object,” he wrote, “has been
to get in his rear at New Market or Harrisonburg, if he gives me an
opportunity, and this would be the case should he advance on Staunton
with his main body. It appears to me that if I remain quiet a few days
more he will probably make a move in some direction, or send a large
force towards Harrisonburg, and thus enable me, with the blessing of
Providence, to successfully attack his advance. If I am unsuccessful in
driving back his entire force he may be induced to move forward from
New Market, and attempt to follow me through this Gap, where our forces
would have greatly the advantage. . . .
“Under all the circumstances I will direct General Ewell to move to
Stanardsville. Should Banks remain in the position of yesterday
[cavalry at Harrisonburg; infantry, etc., at New Market] I will try and
seek an opportunity of attacking successfully some part of his army,
and if circumstances justify press forward. My instructions from
General Johnston were to unite with General Ewell near the top of the
Blue Ridge, and give battle. The course I propose would be departing
from General Johnston’s instructions, but I do not believe that Banks
will follow me to the Blue Ridge unless I first engage him, and I doubt
whether he will then.”
But although authorised to draw Ewell to himself, and to carry out the
project on which his heart was set, he still kept in view the general
situation. After he had dispatched the above letter, a report came in
which led him to believe that Ewell was more needed on the Rappahannock
than in
the Valley. Lee had already informed him that McDowell’s advanced guard
had occupied Falmouth, on the north bank of the river, opposite
Fredericksburg, on April 19, and that General Field had fallen back.
Jackson, in consequence, permitted Ewell to remain near Gordonsville,
close to the railway; assuring Lee that “he would make arrangements so
as not to be disappointed should Ewell be ordered to
Fredericksburg.”[21]
Nor was this the only instance in which he demonstrated his breadth of
view. In planning co-operation with Ewell, that general had suggested
that he should take a different road to that which had been recommended
by General Johnston, should necessity for a combined movement arise.
Jackson protested against the route being altered. “General Johnston,”
he wrote, “does not state why he desires you to go (by this road), but
it may be for the purpose of deceiving the enemy with regard to your
ultimate destination, to be more distant from the enemy during the
movement, and also to be in a more favourable position for reinforcing
some other points should it be necessary.” The interests of his own
force, here as always, were subordinated to those of the army which was
defending Richmond.
April 25 The next information received from General Lee was that the
enemy was collecting in strong force at Fredericksburg. “For this
purpose,” he wrote, “they must weaken other points, and now is the time
to concentrate on any that may be exposed within our reach.” He then
suggested that, if Banks was too strong in numbers and position,
Jackson and Ewell combined should move on Warrenton, where a Federal
force was reported; or that Ewell and Field should attack
Fredericksburg. “The blow,” he added, “wherever struck, must, to be
successful, be sudden and heavy. The troops must be efficient and
light. I cannot pretend at this distance to direct operations depending
on circumstances unknown to me, and requiring the exercise of
discretion and judgment as to time and
execution, but submit these ideas for your consideration.”[22]
April 26 On April 26, when Banks moved two brigades to Harrisonburg,
Ewell was at once called up to Stanardsville, twelve miles south-east
of Swift Run Gap. No opportunity as yet had offered for attack. “I have
reason to believe,” wrote Jackson to Lee on the 28th, “that Banks has
21,000 men within a day’s march of me.[23] He has moved his main body
from New Market to Harrisonburg, leaving probably a brigade at New
Market, and between that town and the Shenandoah (Luray Gap), to guard
against a force getting in his rear. . . . On yesterday week there were
near 7,000 men in the neighbourhood of Winchester, under Blenker; as
yet I have not heard of their having joined Banks. . . . I propose to
attack Banks in front if you will send me 5,000 more men. . . . Now, as
it appears to me, is the golden opportunity for striking a blow. Until
I hear from you I will watch an opportunity for striking some exposed
point.”[24]
April 29 The next day, April 29, Jackson suggested, if reinforcements
could not be spared, that one of three plans should be adopted. “Either
to leave Ewell here (Swift Run Gap) to threaten Banks’ rear in the
event of his advancing on Staunton, and move with my command rapidly on
the force in front of General Edward Johnson; or else, co-operating
with Ewell, to attack the enemy’s detached force between New Market and
the Shenandoah, and if successful in this, then to press forward and
get in Banks’ rear at New Market, and thus induce him to fall back; the
third is to pass down the Shenandoah to Sperryvile (east of the Blue
Ridge), and thus threaten Winchester _viâ_ Front Royal. To get in
Banks’ rear with my present force would be rather a dangerous
undertaking, as I would have to cross the river and immediately cross
the Massanutton Mountains, during which the enemy would have the
advantage of position. Of the three plans I give the preference to
attacking the force west of Staunton [Milroy], for, if successful, I
would afterward only have Banks to contend with, and in doing this
would be reinforced by General Edward Johnson, and by that time you
might be able to give me reinforcements, which, united with the troops
under my control, would enable me to defeat Banks. If he should be
routed and his command destroyed, nearly all our own forces here could,
if necessary, cross the Blue Ridge to Warrenton, Fredericksburg, or any
other threatened point.”
Lee’s reply was to the effect that no reinforcements could be spared,
but that he had carefully considered the three plans of operations
proposed, and that the selection was left to Jackson.
The Army of the Valley, when the Commander-in-Chief’s letter was
received, had already been put in motion. Three roads lead from
Conrad’s store in the Elk Run Valley to Johnson’s position at West
View; one through Harrisonburg; the second by Port Republic, Cross
Keys, and Mount Sidney; the third, the river road, by Port Republic and
Staunton. The first of these was already occupied by the Federals; the
second was tortuous, and at places almost within view of the enemy’s
camps; while the third, though it was nowhere less than ten miles
distant, ran obliquely across their front. In fact, to all appearance,
Banks with his superior force blocked Jackson’s march on Staunton more
effectively than did Jackson his.
On the 29th, Ashby, continually watching Banks, made a demonstration in
force towards Harrisonburg.
[Illustration: Map showing the situation on April 30th, 1862.]
April 30 On the 30th he drove the Federal cavalry back upon their
camps; and the same afternoon Jackson, leaving Elk Run Valley, which
was immediately occupied by Ewell, with 8,000 men, marched up the river
to Port
Republic. The track, unmetalled and untended, had been turned into a
quagmire by the heavy rains of an ungenial spring, and the troops
marched only five miles, bivouacking by the roadside. May 1 was a day
of continuous rain. The great mountains loomed dimly through the dreary
mist. The streams which rushed down the gorges to the Shenandoah had
swelled to brawling torrents, and in the hollows of the fields the
water stood in sheets. Men and horses floundered through the mud. The
guns sunk axle-deep in the treacherous soil; and it was only by the
help of large detachments of pioneers that the heavy waggons of the
train were able to proceed at all. It was in vain that piles of stones
and brushwood were strewn upon the roadway; the quicksands dragged them
down as fast as they were placed. The utmost exertions carried the army
no more than five miles forward, and the troops bivouacked once more in
the dripping woods.
May 2 The next day, the third in succession, the struggle with the
elements continued. The whole command was called upon to move the guns
and waggons. The general and his staff were seen dismounted, urging on
the labourers; and Jackson, his uniform bespattered with mud, carried
stones and timbers on his own shoulders. But before nightfall the last
ambulance had been extricated from the slough, and the men, drenched to
the skin, and worn with toil, found a halting-place on firmer ground.
But this halting-place was not on the road to Staunton. Before they
reached Port Republic, instead of crossing the Shenandoah and passing
through the village, the troops had been ordered to change the
direction of their march. The spot selected for their bivouac was at
the foot of Brown’s Gap, not more than twelve miles south-west of the
camp in Elk Run Valley.
May 3 The next morning the clouds broke. The sun, shining with summer
warmth, ushered in a glorious May day, and the column, turning its back
upon the Valley, took the stony road that led over the Blue Ridge.
Upward and eastward the battalions passed, the great forest of oak and
pine rising high on either hand, until from the eyry of the
mountain-eagles they looked down upon the wide Virginia plains. Far
off, away to the south-east, the trails of white smoke from passing
trains marked the line of the Central Railroad, and the line of march
led directly to the station at Mechum’s River. Both officers and men
were more than bewildered. Save to his adjutant-general, Jackson had
breathed not a whisper of his plan. The soldiers only knew that they
were leaving the Valley, and leaving it in the enemy’s possession.
Winchester, Strasburg, Front Royal, New Market, Harrisonburg, were full
of Northern troops. Staunton alone was yet unoccupied. But Staunton was
closely threatened; and north of Harrisonburg the blue-coated cavalry
were riding far and wide. While the women and old men looked impotently
on, village and mill and farm were at the mercy of the invaders.
Already the Federal commissaries had laid hands on herds and granaries.
It is true that the Northerners waged war like gentlemen; yet for all
that the patriotism of the Valley soldiers was sorely tried. They were
ready to go to Richmond if the time had come; but it was with heavy
hearts that they saw the Blue Ridge rise behind them, and the bivouac
on Mechum’s River was even more cheerless than the sodden woods near
Port Republic. The long lines of cars that awaited them at the station
but confirmed their anticipations. They were evidently wanted at the
capital, and the need was pressing. Still not a word transpired as to
their destination.
May 4 The next day was Sunday, and Jackson had intended that the troops
should rest. But early in the morning came a message from Edward
Johnson. Frémont’s advanced guard was pushing forward. “After hard
debate with himself,” says Dabney, who accompanied him, “and with sore
reluctance,” Jackson once more sacrificed his scruples and ordered the
command to march. The infantry was to move by rail, the artillery and
waggons by road. To their astonishment and delight the troops then
heard, for the first time, that their destination was not Richmond but
Staunton; and although they were far from understanding the reason for
their circuitous march, they began to suspect that it had not been made
without good purpose.
If the soldiers had been heavy hearted at the prospect of leaving the
Valley, the people of Staunton had been plunged in the direst grief.
For a long time past they had lived in a pitiable condition of
uncertainty. On April 19 the sick and convalescent of the Valley army
had been removed to Gordonsville. On the same day Jackson had moved to
Elk Run Valley, leaving the road from Harrisonburg completely open; and
Edward Johnson evacuated his position on the Shenandoah Mountain.
Letters from Jackson’s officers, unacquainted with the designs of their
commander, had confirmed the apprehension that the Federals were too
strong to be resisted. On the Saturday of this anxious week had come
the news that the army was crossing the Blue Ridge, and that the Valley
had been abandoned to the enemy. Sunday morning was full of rumours and
excitement. 10,000 Federals, it was reported, were advancing against
Johnson at West View; Banks was moving from Harrisonburg; his cavalry
had been seen from the neighbouring hills, and Staunton believed that
it was to share the fate of Winchester. Suddenly a train full of
soldiers steamed into the station; and as regiment after regiment, clad
in their own Confederate grey, swept through the crowded streets,
confidence in Stonewall Jackson began once more to revive.
Pickets were immediately posted on all the roads leading to
Harrisonburg, and beyond the line of sentries no one, whatever his
business might be, was allowed to pass. The following day the remainder
of the division arrived, and the junction with Johnson’s brigade was
virtually effected. May 6 was spent in resting the troops, in making
the arrangements for the march, and in getting information.
May 7 The next morning brought a fresh surprise to both troops and
townsfolk. Banks, so the rumour went, was rapidly approaching; and it
was confidently expected that the twin hills which stand above the
town—christened by some early settler, after two similar heights in
faraway Tyrone, Betsy Bell and Mary Gray—would look down upon a bloody
battle. But instead of taking post to defend the town, the Valley
regiments filed away over the western
hills, heading for the Alleghanies; and Staunton was once more left
unprotected. Jackson, although informed by Ashby that Banks, so far
from moving forward, was actually retiring on New Market, was still
determined to strike first at Milroy, commanding Frémont’s advanced
guard; and there can be little question but that his decision was
correct. As we have seen, he was under the impression that Banks’
strength was 21,000, a force exceeding the united strength of the
Confederates by 4,200 men.[25] It was undoubtedly sound strategy to
crush the weaker and more exposed of the enemy’s detachments first; and
then, having cleared his own rear and prevented all chance of
combination between Banks and Frémont, to strike the larger.
There was nothing to be feared from Harrisonburg. Eight days had
elapsed since Jackson had marched from Elk Run; but Banks was still in
blissful ignorance of the blow that threatened Frémont’s advanced
guard.
On April 28 he had telegraphed to Washington that he was “entirely
secure.” Everything was satisfactory. “The enemy,” he said, “is in no
condition for offensive movements. Our supplies have not been in so
good condition nor my command in so good spirits since we left
Winchester. General Hatch (commanding cavalry) made a reconnaissance in
force yesterday, which resulted in obtaining a complete view of the
enemy’s position. A negro employed in Jackson’s tent came in this
morning, and reports preparation for retreat of Jackson to-day. You
need have no apprehensions for our safety. I think we are just now in a
condition to do all you can desire of us in the Valley—clear the enemy
out permanently.”
On the 30th, when Ashby repaid with interest Hatch’s reconnaissance in
force, he reported: “All quiet. Some alarm excited by movement of
enemy’s cavalry. It appears to-day that they were in pursuit of a Union
prisoner who escaped to our camp. The day he left Jackson was to be
reinforced by Johnson and attack _viâ_ Luray. Another report says
Jackson is bound for Richmond. This is the fact, I have no doubt.
Jackson is on half-rations, his
supplies having been cut off by our advance. There is nothing to be
done in this Valley this side of Strasburg.”
The same night, “after full consultation with all leading officers,” he
repeated that his troops were no longer required in the Valley, and
suggested to the Secretary of War that he should be permitted to cross
the Blue Ridge and clear the whole country north of Gordonsville.
“Enemy’s force there is far less than represented in newspapers—not
more than 20,000 at the outside. Jackson’s army is reduced,
demoralised, on half-rations. They are all concentrating for Richmond.
. . . I am now satisfied that it is the most safe and effective
disposition for our corps. I pray your favourable consideration. Such
order will electrify our force.” The force was certainly to be
electrified, but the impulse was not to come from Mr. Secretary
Stanton.
Banks, it may have been observed, whenever his superiors wanted him to
move, had invariably the best of reasons for halting. At one time
supplies were most difficult to arrange for. At another time the enemy
was being reinforced, and his own numbers were small. But when he was
told to halt, he immediately panted to be let loose. “The enemy was not
half so strong as had been reported;” “His men were never in better
condition;” “Supplies were plentiful.” It is not impossible that Mr.
Stanton had by this time discovered, as was said of a certain
Confederate general, a _protégé_ of the President, that Banks had a
fine career before him until Lincoln “undertook to make of him what the
good Lord hadn’t, a great general.” To the daring propositions of the
late Governor and Speaker, the only reply vouchsafed was an order to
fall back on Strasburg, and to transfer Shields’ division to General
McDowell at Fredericksburg.
But on May 3, the day Jackson disappeared behind the Blue Ridge, Banks,
to his evident discomfiture, found that his adversary had not retreated
to Richmond after all. The dashing commander, just now so anxious for
one thing or the other, either to clear the Valley or to sweep the
country north of Gordonsville, disappeared. “The
reduced, demoralised” enemy assumed alarming proportions. Nothing was
said about his half-rations; and as Ewell had reached Swift Run Gap
with a force estimated at 12,000 men, while Jackson, according to the
Federal scouts, was still near Port Republic, Banks thought it
impossible to divide his force with safety.
Stanton’s reply is not on record, but it seems that he permitted Banks
to retain Shields until he arrived at Strasburg; and on May 5 the
Federals fell back to New Market, their commander, misled both by his
cavalry and his spies, believing that Jackson had marched to
Harrisonburg.
On the 7th, the day that Jackson moved west from Staunton, Banks’ fears
again revived. He was still anxious that Shields should remain with
him. “Our cavalry,” he said, “from near Harrisonburg report to-night
that Jackson occupies that town, and that he has been largely
reinforced. Deserters confirm reports of Jackson’s movements in this
direction.”
Jackson’s movements at this juncture are full of interest. Friend and
foe were both mystified. Even his own officers might well ask why, in
his march to Staunton, he deliberately adopted the terrible road to
Port Republic. From Elk Run Valley a metalled road passed over the Blue
Ridge to Gordonsville. Staunton by this route was twenty-four miles
further than by Port Republic; but there were no obstacles to rapid
marching. And the command would have arrived no later than it actually
did. Moreover, in moving to Port Republic, eleven miles only from
Harrisonburg, and within sight of the enemy’s patrols, it would seem
that there was considerable risk. Had Banks attacked the bridge whilst
the Confederate artillery was dragging heavily through the mire, the
consequences would probably have been unpleasant. Even if he had not
carried the bridge, the road which Jackson had chosen ran for several
miles over the open plain which lies eastward of the Shenandoah, and
from the commanding bluffs on the western bank his column could have
been effectively shelled without the power of reply.
In moving to Staunton the Confederate commander had three objects in
view:—
1. To strengthen his own force by combining with Edward Johnson.
2. To prevent the Federals combining by keeping Banks stationary and
defeating Milroy.
3. To protect Staunton.
The real danger that he had to guard against was that Banks, taking
advantage of his absence from the Valley, should move on Staunton.
Knowing his adversary as well as he did, he had no reason to apprehend
attack during his march to Port Republic. But it was not impossible
that when he found out that Jackson had vanished from the Valley, Banks
might take heart and join hands with Milroy. It was necessary,
therefore, in order to prevent Banks moving, that Jackson’s absence
from the Valley should be very short; also, in order to prevent Milroy
either joining Banks or taking Staunton, that Edward Johnson should be
reinforced as rapidly as possible.
These objects would be attained by making use of the road to Port
Republic. In the first place, Banks would not dare to move towards
Milroy so long as the flank of his line of march was threatened; and in
the second place, from Port Republic to Staunton, by Mechum’s River,
was little more than two days’ march. Within forty-eight hours,
therefore, using the railway, it would be possible to strengthen
Johnson in time to protect Staunton, and to prevent the Federals
uniting. It was unlikely that Banks, even if he heard at once that his
enemy had vanished, would immediately dash forward; and even if he did
he would still have five-and-twenty miles to march before he reached
Staunton. Every precaution had been taken, too, that he should not hear
of the movement across the Blue Ridge till it was too late to take
advantage of it; and, as we have already seen, so late as May 5 he
believed that Jackson was at Harrisonburg. Ashby had done his work
well.
It might be argued, however, that with an antagonist
so supine as Banks Jackson might have openly marched to Staunton by the
most direct route; in fact, that he need never have left the Valley at
all. But, had he taken the road across the Valley, he would have
advertised his purpose. Milroy would have received long warning of his
approach, and all chance of effecting a surprise would have been lost.
On April 29, the day on which Jackson began his movement, Richmond was
still safe. The Yorktown lines were intact, held by the 53,000
Confederates under Johnston; but it was very evident that they could
not be long maintained.
A large siege train had been brought from Washington, and Johnston had
already learned that in a few days one hundred pieces of the heaviest
ordnance would open fire on his position. His own armament was
altogether inadequate to cope with such ponderous metal. His strength
was not half his adversary’s, and he had determined to retreat without
waiting to have his works demolished.
But the mighty army in his front was not the only danger. McDowell,
with 35,000 men, had already concentrated near Falmouth. Johnston, in
falling back on Richmond, was in danger of being caught between two
fires, for to oppose McDowell on the Rappahannock Lee had been unable
to assemble more than 12,000 Confederates.
These facts were all known to Jackson. Whether the march to Mechum’s
River was intended by him to have any further effect on the Federals
than surprising Milroy, and clearing the way for an attack on Banks, it
is impossible to say. It is indisputable, at the same time, that his
sudden disappearance from the Valley disturbed Mr. Stanton. The
Secretary of War had suspected that Jackson’s occupation of Swift Run
Gap meant mischief. McDowell, who had been instructed to cross the
Rappahannock, was ordered in consequence to stand fast at Falmouth, and
was warned that the enemy, amusing McClellan at Yorktown, might make a
sudden dash on either himself or Banks.
A few days later McDowell reported that Jackson had passed
Gordonsville. The news came from deserters, “very
intelligent men.” The next day he was informed that Shields was to be
transferred to his command, and that he was to bear in mind his
instructions as to the defence of Washington. Banks had already been
ordered back to Strasburg. Now, a few days previously, Stanton had been
talking of co-operation between McClellan and McDowell. Directly he
learned that Jackson was east of the Blue Ridge all thought of
combination was abandoned; McDowell was held back; Shields was sent to
reinforce him; and the possible danger to Washington overrode all other
considerations.
The weak point of McClellan’s strategy was making itself felt. In
advancing on Richmond by way of the Peninsula he had deliberately
adopted what are called in strategy “the exterior lines.” That is, his
forces were distributed on the arc of a circle, of which Richmond and
the Confederate army were the centre. If, landing on the Peninsula, he
had been able to advance at once upon Richmond, the enemy must have
concentrated for the defence of his capital, and neither Banks nor
Washington would have been disturbed. But the moment his advance was
checked, as it was at Yorktown, the enemy could detach at his leisure
in any direction that he pleased, and McClellan was absolutely unable
to support the threatened point. The strategy of exterior lines
demands, for success, a strong and continuous pressure on the enemy’s
main army, depriving him of the time and the space necessary for
counterstroke. If this is impossible, a skilful foe will at once make
use of his central position.
Lincoln appears to have had an instinctive apprehension that McClellan
might not be able to exert sufficient pressure to hold Johnston fast,
and it was for this reason that he had fought so strongly against the
Peninsula line of invasion. It was the probability that the
Confederates would use their opportunity with which Stanton had now to
deal, complicated by the fact that their numbers were believed to be
much greater than they really were. Still the problem was not one of
insurmountable difficulty. Banks and Frémont united had 40,000 men,
McDowell over 30,000. A few marches would have brought these forces
into combination.
Banks and Frémont, occupying Staunton, and moving on Gordonsville,
would have soon taken up communication with McDowell; an army 70,000
strong, far larger than any force the Confederates could detach against
it, would have threatened Richmond from the north and west, and, at the
same time, would have covered Washington. This plan, though not without
elements of danger, offered some advantages. Nor were soldiers wanting
to advise it. Both Rosecrans and Shields had submitted schemes for such
a combination. Mr. Stanton, however, preferred to control the
chessboard by the light of unaided wisdom; and while McDowell was
unnecessarily strengthened, both Banks and Frémont were dangerously
weakened.
The only single point where the Secretary showed the slightest sagacity
was in apprehending that the Confederates would make use of their
opportunity, and overwhelm one of the detachments he had so ingeniously
isolated.
On April 29 Johnston proposed to Davis that his army should be
withdrawn from the Peninsula, and that the North should be invaded by
way of the Valley.[26] Lee, in the name of the President, replied that
some such scheme had been for some time under consideration; and the
burden of his letters, as we have seen, both to Ewell and Jackson, was
that a sudden and heavy blow should be struck at some exposed portion
of the invading armies. Mr. Stanton was so far right; but where the
blow was to be struck he was absolutely unable to divine.
“It is believed,” he writes to the Assistant Secretary on May 8, “that
a considerable force has been sent toward the Rappahannock and
Shenandoah to move on Washington. Jackson is reinforced strongly.
Telegraph McDowell, Banks, and Hartsuff (at Warrenton) to keep a sharp
look-out. Tell General Hitchcock to see that the force around
Washington is in proper condition.”
It was indeed unfortunate for the North that at this juncture the
military affairs of the Confederacy should have been placed in the
hands of the clearest-sighted soldier in America. It was an unequal
match, Lincoln and Stanton
against Lee; and the stroke that was to prove the weakness of the
Federal strategy was soon to fall. On May 7 Jackson westward marched in
the following order: Edward Johnson’s regiments led the way, several
miles in advance; the Third and Second Brigades followed; the
Stonewall, under General Winder, a young West Point officer of
exceptional promise, bringing up the rear. “The corps of cadets of the
Virginia Military Institute,” says Dabney, “was also attached to the
expedition; and the spruce equipments and exact drill of the youths, as
they stepped out full of enthusiasm to take their first actual look
upon the horrid visage of war, under their renowned professor, formed a
strong contrast with the war-worn and nonchalant veterans who composed
the army.”[27]
Eighteen miles west of Staunton a Federal picket was overrun, and in
the pass leading to the Shenandoah Mountain Johnson captured a camp
that had just been abandoned. The Federal rear-guard fired a few
shells, and the Confederates went into bivouac. Johnson had marched
fourteen and Jackson twenty miles.
That night Milroy concentrated his whole brigade of 3,700 men at
M’Dowell, a little village at the foot of the Bull Pasture Mountain,
and sent back in haste for reinforcements. Frémont’s command was much
strung out. When Milroy had moved from Cheat Mountain through Monterey,
twelve miles west of M’Dowell,[28] the remainder of the army had
started up the South Branch Valley to reinforce him. But snowstorms and
heavy rains had much delayed the march, and Schenck’s brigade had not
advanced beyond Franklin, thirty-four miles north of M’Dowell. Frémont
himself, with a couple of battalions, was approaching Petersburg,
thirty-five miles from Franklin; and Blenker’s division, still further
to the rear, had not yet quitted Romney.
May 8 “On the following morning,” to quote from Jackson’s report, “the
march was resumed, General Johnson’s brigade still in front. The head
of the column was halted near the top of Bull Pasture Mountain, and
General Johnson, accompanied by a party of thirty men and several
officers, with a view to a reconnaissance of the enemy’s position,
ascended Sitlington’s Hill, an isolated spur on the left of the
turnpike and commanding a full view of the village of M’Dowell. From
this point the position, and to some extent the strength, of the enemy
could be seen. In the valley in which M’Dowell is situated was observed
a considerable force of infantry. To the right, on a height, were two
regiments, but too distant for an effective fire to that point. Almost
a mile in front was a battery supported by infantry. The enemy,
observing a reconnoitring party, sent a small body of skirmishers,
which was promptly met by the men with General Johnson and driven back.
For the purpose of securing the hill all of General Johnson’s regiments
were sent to him.”
Jackson had no intention of delivering a direct assault on the Federal
position. The ground was altogether unfavourable for attack. The hill
on which his advanced guard was now established was more than two miles
broad from east to west. But it was no plateau. Rugged and precipitous
ridges towered high above the level, and numerous ravines, hidden by
thick timber, seamed the surface of the spur. To the front a slope of
smooth unbroken greensward dropped sharply down; and five hundred feet
below, behind a screen of woods, the Bull Pasture River ran swiftly
through its narrow valley. On the river banks were the Federals; and
beyond the valley the wooded mountains, a very labyrinth of hills, rose
high and higher to the west. To the right was a deep gorge, nearly half
a mile across from cliff to cliff, dividing Sitlington’s Hill from the
heights to northward; and through this dangerous defile ran the
turnpike, eventually debouching on a bridge which was raked by the
Federal guns. To the left the country presented exactly the same
features. Mountain after mountain, ridge after ridge, cleft by shadowy
crevasses, and clothed with great tracts of forest, rolled back in
tortuous masses to the backbone of the Alleghanies; a narrow pass,
leading due westward, marking the route to Monterey and the Ohio River.
Although commanded by Sitlington’s Hill, the Federal position was
difficult to reach. The river, swollen by rain, protected it in front.
The bridge could only be approached by a single road, with inaccessible
heights on either hand. The village of M’Dowell was crowded with troops
and guns. A low hill five hundred yards beyond the bridge was occupied
by infantry and artillery; long lines of tents were ranged on the level
valley, and the hum of many voices, excited by the appearance of the
enemy, was borne upwards to the heights. Had the Confederate artillery
been brought to the brow of Sitlington’s Hill, the valley would
doubtless soon have become untenable, and the enemy have been compelled
to retire through the mountains. It was by no means easy, however, to
prevent them from getting away unscathed. But Jackson was not the man
to leave the task untried, and to content himself with a mere
cannonade. He had reason to hope that Milroy was ignorant of his
junction with General Johnson, and that he would suppose he had only
the six regiments of the latter with which to deal. The day was far
spent, and the Valley brigades, toiling through the mountains, were
still some miles behind. He proposed, therefore, while his staff
explored the mountains for a track which might lead him the next day to
the rear of the Federal position, merely to hold his ground on
Sitlington’s Hill.
His immediate opponent, however, was a general of more resource and
energy than Banks. Milroy was at least able to supply himself with
information. On May 7 he had been advised by his scouts and spies that
Jackson and Johnson had combined, and that they were advancing to
attack him at M’Dowell. At 10 a.m. the next day Schenck’s brigade
arrived from Franklin, after a march of thirty-four miles in
twenty-three hours, and a little later the enemy’s scouts were observed
on the lofty crest of Sitlington’s Hill. The day wore on. The Federal
battery, with muzzles elevated and the trails thrust into trenches,
threw occasional shells upon the heights, and parties of skirmishers
were sent across the river to develop the Confederate strength.
Johnson, to whom Jackson had confided the defence of
the position, kept his troops carefully concealed, merely exposing
sufficient numbers to repel the Federal patrols. Late in the afternoon
a staff officer reported to Jackson that he had discovered a rough
mountain track, which, passing through the mountains to the north-west,
crossed the Bull Pasture River and came out upon the road between
M’Dowell and Franklin. Orders had just been issued to move a strong
detachment of artillery and infantry by this track during the night,
when the Federal infantry, who had crossed the bridge under shelter of
the woods, advanced in a strong line of battle up the slopes. Their
scouts had observed what they believed to be preparations for
establishing a battery on the heights, and Milroy and Schenck, with a
view of gaining time for retreat, had determined on attack. Johnson had
six regiments concealed behind the crest, in all about 2,800 men. Two
regiments of the enemy, under 1,000 strong, advanced against his front;
and shortly afterwards three regiments, bringing the numbers of the
attack up to 2,500 rifles, assailed his left.
The Ohio and West Virginia Regiments, of which the Federal force was
composed, fought with the vigour which always characterised the Western
troops.[29] The lofty heights held by the Confederates were but an
illusory advantage. So steep were the slopes in front that the men, for
the most part, had to stand on the crest to deliver their fire, and
their line stood out in bold relief against the evening sky. “On the
other hand,” says Dabney, “though the Federal troops had to scale the
steep acclivity of the hill, they reaped the usual advantage in such
cases, resulting from the high firing of the Confederates.” The 12th
Georgia, holding the centre of Johnson’s line, displayed more valour
than judgment. Having been advanced at first in front of the crest,
they could not be persuaded to retire to the reverse of the ridge,
where other regiments found partial protection without
sacrificing the efficiency of their fire. Their commander, perceiving
their useless exposure, endeavoured again and again to withdraw them;
but amidst the roar of the musketry his voice was lifted up in vain,
and when by passing along the ranks he persuaded one wing of the
regiment to recede, they rushed again to the front while he was gone to
expostulate with the other. A tall Georgia youth expressed the spirit
of his comrades when he replied the next day to the question why they
did not retreat to the shelter of the ridge: “We did not come all this
way to Virginia to run before Yankees.”[30] Nor was the courage of the
other troops less ardent. The 44th Virginia was placed in reserve,
thirty paces in rear of the centre. “After the battle became animated,”
says the brigadier, “and my attention was otherwise directed, a large
number of the 44th quit their position, and, rushing forward, joined
the 58th and engaged in the fight, while the balance of the regiment
joined some other brigade.”[31]
The action gradually became so fierce that Jackson sent his Third
Brigade to support the advanced guard. These nine regiments now engaged
sufficed to hold the enemy in check; the Second Brigade, which moved
towards them as darkness fell, was not engaged, and the Stonewall
regiments were still in rear. No counterstroke was delivered. Johnson
himself was wounded, and had to hand over the command; and after four
hours’ fighting the Federals fell back in perfect order under cover of
the night. Nor was there any endeavour to pursue. The Confederate
troops were superior in numbers, but there was much confusion in their
ranks; the cavalry could not act on the steep and broken ground, and
there were other reasons which rendered a night attack undesirable.
The enemy had been repulsed at every point. The tale of casualties,
nevertheless, was by no means small. 498 Confederates, including 54
officers, had fallen. The 12th Georgia paid the penalty for its useless
display of valour with the loss of 156 men and 19 officers. The
Federals, on the other hand, favoured by the ground, had no more than
256 killed, wounded, and missing. Only three pieces of artillery took
part in the engagement. These were Federal guns; but so great was the
angle of elevation that but one man on Sitlington’s Hill was struck by
a piece of shell. Jackson, in order to conceal his actual strength, had
declined to order up his artillery. The approach to the position, a
narrow steep ravine, wooded, and filled with boulders, forbade the use
of horses, and the guns must have been dragged up by hand with great
exertion. Moreover, the artillery was destined to form part of the
turning column, and had a long night march before it.
Illustration: Map of the Battle of Mc.Dowell, Va., Thursday, May 8th,
1862. For larger view click on image.
“By nine o’clock,” says Dabney, “the roar of the struggle had passed
away, and the green battle-field reposed under the starlight as calmly
as when it had been occupied only by its peaceful herds. Detachments of
soldiers were silently exploring the ground for their wounded comrades,
while, the tired troops were slowly filing off to their bivouac. At
midnight the last sufferer had been removed and the last picket posted;
and then only did Jackson turn to seek a few hours’ repose in a
neighbouring farmhouse. The valley of M’Dowell lay in equal quiet. The
camp-fires of the Federals blazed ostentatiously in long and regular
lines, and their troops seemed wrapped in sleep. At one o’clock the
general reached his quarters, and threw himself upon a bed. When his
mulatto servant, knowing that he had eaten nothing since morning, came
in with food, he said, ’I want none; nothing but sleep,’ and in a few
minutes he was slumbering like a healthy child.”
It seems, however, that the march of the turning column had already
been countermanded. Putting himself in his enemy’s place, Jackson had
foreseen Milroy’s movements. If the one could move by night, so could
the other; and when he rode out at dawn, the Federals, as he
anticipated, had disappeared. The next day he sent a laconic despatch
to Richmond: “God blessed our arms with victory at McDowell yesterday.”
This announcement was doubtless received by the people of Virginia, as
Dabney declares, with peculiar delight.
On May 4 Johnston had evacuated Yorktown. On the 5th he had checked the
pursuit at Williamsburg, inflicting heavy losses, but had continued his
retreat. On the 9th Norfolk was abandoned; and on the 11th the
“Merrimac,” grounding in the James, was destroyed by her commander.
“The victory of M’Dowell was the one gleam of brightness athwart all
these clouds.” It must be admitted, however, that the victory was
insignificant. The repulse of 2,500 men by 4,000 was not a remarkable
feat; and it would even appear that M’Dowell might be ranked with the
battles of lost opportunities. A vigorous counterstroke would probably
have destroyed the whole of the attacking force. The riflemen of the
West, however, were not made of the stuff that yields readily to
superior force. The fight for the bridge would have been fierce and
bloody. Twilight had fallen before the Confederate reinforcements
arrived upon the scene; and under such conditions the losses must have
been very heavy. But to lose men was exactly what Jackson wished to
avoid. The object of his manœuvres was the destruction not of Frémont’s
advanced guard, but of Banks’ army; and if his numbers were seriously
reduced it would be impossible to attain that end. Frémont’s brigades,
moreover, protected no vital point. A decisive victory at M’Dowell
would have produced but little effect at Washington. No great results
were to be expected from operations in so distant a section of the
strategic theatre; and Jackson aimed at nothing more than driving the
enemy so far back as to isolate him from Banks.
May 9 The next morning the small force of cavalry crossed the bridge
and rode cautiously through the mountain passes. The infantry halted
for some hours in M’Dowell in order that rations might be issued, but
the Federals made three-and-twenty miles, and were already too far
ahead to be overtaken. On the 10th and the 11th the Confederates made
forced marches, but the enemy set fire to the forests on the
mountain-side, and this desperate measure proved eminently successful.
“The sky was overcast with volumes of smoke, which wrapped every
distant object in a veil, impenetrable alike to the eyes and telescopes
of the officers. Through this sultry canopy the pursuing army felt its
way cautiously, cannonaded by the enemy from every advantageous
position, while it was protected from ambuscades only by detachments of
skirmishers, who scoured the burning woods on either side of the
highway. The general, often far in advance of the column in his
eagerness to overtake the foe, declared that this was the most adroit
expedient to which a retreating army could resort, and that it entailed
upon him all the disadvantages of a night attack. By slow approaches,
and with constant skirmishing, the Federals were driven back to
Franklin village, and the double darkness of the night and the smoke
arrested the pursuit.”[32]
May 12 On May 12 Jackson resolved to return to the Valley. Frémont,
with Blenker’s division, was at hand. It was impossible to outflank the
enemy’s position, and time was precious, “for he knew not how soon a
new emergency at Fredericksburg or at Richmond might occasion the
recall of Ewell, and deprive him of the power of striking an effective
blow at Banks.”[33] Half the day was granted to the soldiers as a day
of rest, to compensate for the Sunday spent in the pursuit, and the
following order was issued to the command:—
“I congratulate you on your recent victory at M’Dowell. I request you
to unite with me in thanksgiving to Almighty God for thus having
crowned your arms with success; and in praying that He will continue to
lead you on from victory to victory, until our independence shall be
established; and make us that people whose God is the Lord. The
chaplains will hold divine service at 10 a.m. on this day, in their
respective regiments.”
Shortly after noon the march to M’Dowell was resumed.
May 15 On the 15th the army left the mountains and encamped at Lebanon
Springs, on the road to Harrisonburg. The 16th was spent in camp, the
Confederate President having appointed a day of prayer and
fasting. On the 17th a halt was made at Mount Solon, and here Jackson
was met by Ewell, who had ridden over from Elk Run Valley. Banks had
fallen back to Strasburg, and he was now completely cut off from
Frémont. On the night of the engagement at McDowell Captain Hotchkiss
had been ordered back to the Valley, and, accompanied by a squadron of
Ashby’s cavalry, had blocked the passes by which Frémont could cross
the mountains and support his colleague. “Bridges and culverts were
destroyed, rocks rolled down, and in one instance trees were felled
along the road for nearly a mile.[34] Jackson’s object was thus
thoroughly achieved. All combination between the Federal columns,
except by long and devious routes, had now been rendered impracticable;
and there was little fear that in any operations down the Valley his
own communications would be endangered. The M’Dowell expedition had
neutralised, for the time being, Frémont’s 20,000 men; and Banks was
now isolated, exposed to the combined attack of Jackson, Ewell, and
Edward Johnson.
One incident remains to be mentioned. During the march to Mount Solon
some companies of the 27th Virginia, who had volunteered for twelve
months, and whose time had expired, demanded their discharge. On this
being refused, as the Conscription Act was now in force, they threw
down their arms, and refused to serve another day. Colonel Grigsby
referred to the General for instructions. Jackson’s face, when the
circumstances were explained, set hard as flint. “Why,” he said, “does
Colonel Grigsby refer to me to learn how to deal with mutineers? He
should shoot them where they stand.” The rest of the regiment was
ordered to parade with loaded muskets; the insubordinate companies were
offered the choice of instant death or instant submission. The men knew
their commander, and at once surrendered. “This,” says Dabney, “was the
last attempt at organised disobedience in the Valley army.”
[1] Major Harman wrote on March 26 that 150 wounded had been brought
to Woodstock. MS.
[2] O.R., vol. xii, part iii, p. 16. The telegrams and letters quoted
in this chapter, unless otherwise stated, are from this volume.
[3] _From Brook Farm to Cedar Mountain,_ p. 133.
[4] Commanding a division under Johnston.
[5] On this date McClellan ceased to be Commander-in-Chief.
[6] The bridges over the railway between Strasburg and Manassas Gap,
which would have made a second line available, had not yet been
repaired.
[7] On April 3 Jackson wrote that the country around Banks was “very
much drained of forage.”
[8] See _ante._
[9] O.R., vol. xii, part iii, p. 50.
[10] Dabney, vol. ii, pp. 22, 23. O.R., vol. v, p. 1087.
[11] Cf letters of April 5. O.R., vol. xii, part iii, pp. 843, 844.
[12] Congress, on April 16, passed a Conscription Act, under which all
able-bodied whites, between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five, were
compelled to serve. It was not found necessary, however, except in the
case of three religious denominations, to enforce the Act in the
Valley; and, in dealing with these sectarians, Jackson found a means
of reconciling their scruples with their duty to their State. He
organised them in companies as teamsters, pledging himself to employ
them, so far as practicable, in other ways than fighting. O.R., vol.
xii, part iii, p. 835.
[13] Dabney, vol. ii, p. 49.
[14] On April 5 he had over 4,000 infantry. O.R., vol. xii, part iii,
p. 844. The estimate in the text is from Colonel Allan’s _Valley
Campaign,_ p. 64. On April 9, however, he was so short of arms that
1,000 pikes were ordered from Richmond. “Under Divine blessing,” he
wrote, “we must rely upon the bayonet when firearms cannot be
furnished.” O.R., vol. xii, part iii, pp. 842, 845.
[15] “My own opinion,” he wrote, when this movement was in
contemplation, “is that Banks will not follow me up to the Blue Ridge.
My desire is, as far as practicable, to hold the Valley, and I hope
that Banks will be deterred from advancing [from New Market] much
further toward Staunton by the apprehension of my returning to New
Market [by Luray], and thus getting in his rear.”—O.R., vol. xii, part
iii, p. 848.
[16] O.R., vol. xii, p. 104.
[17] Jackson had recognised all along the mistake the Federals had
made in pushing comparatively small forces up the Valley before
McClellan closed in on Richmond. On April 5, when Banks was at
Woodstock, he wrote: “Banks is very cautious. As he belongs to
McClellan’s army, I suppose that McClellan is at the helm, and that he
would not, even if Banks so desired, permit him to advance much
farther until other parts of his army are farther advanced.” (O.R.,
vol. xii, part iii, p. 843). He did not know that at the date he wrote
the President and Mr. Stanton had relieved McClellan at the helm.
[18] The first detachment of Federals embarked at Alexandria on March
16, and the army was thereafter transferred to the Peninsula by
successive divisions. On March 25 Johnston was ordered to be ready to
move to Richmond. On April 4 he was ordered to move at once. On that
date 50,000 Federals had landed.
[19] O.R., vol. xii, part iii, p. 859.
[20] O.R., vol. xii, part iii, pp. 849, 854, 857.
[21] O.R., vol. xii, part iii, pp. 863–4.
[22] Jackson himself showed the same wise self-restraint. In his
communications with Ewell, after that officer had been placed under
his orders, but before they had joined hands, he suggested certain
movements as advisable, but invariably left the ultimate decision to
his subordinate’s judgment.
[23] On April 30 Banks and Shields, who had been reinforced, numbered
20,000 effective officers and men, of whom a portion must have been
guarding the communications. Reports of April 30 and May 31. O.R.,
vol. xii, part iii.
[24] It is amusing to note how far, at this time, his staff officers
were from understanding their commander. On this very date one of them
wrote in a private letter: “As sure as you and I live, Jackson is a
cracked man, and the sequel will show it.” A month later he must have
been sorry he had posed as a prophet.
[25] Jackson, 6,000; Ewell, 8,000; E. Johnson, 2,800.
[26] O.R., vol. xi, part 3, p. 477.
[27] Dabney, vol. ii, p. 65.
[28] See _ante,_ pp. 185, 269, 275.
[29] Jackson fully recognised the fine fighting qualities of his
compatriots. “As Shields’ brigade (division),” he wrote on April 5,
“is composed principally of Western troops, who are familiar with the
use of arms, we must calculate on hard fighting to oust Banks if
attacked only in front, and may meet with obstinate resistance,
however the attack may be made.”
[30] Dabney, vol. ii, p. 73.
[31] Report of Colonel Scott, 44th Virginia Infantry. O.R., vol. xii,
part 1, p. 486.
[32] Dabney, vol. ii, p. 77.
[33] _Ibid,_ p. 78. On May 9, in anticipation of a movement down the
Valley, he had ordered thirty days’ forage, besides other supplies, to
be accumulated at Staunton. _Harman MS._
[34] Frémont’s Report, O.R., vol. xii, part i, p. 11.