Stonewall Jackson and the American Civil War
“Then,” says Clausewitz, “the spark in the breast of the commander must
rekindle hope in the hearts of his men, and so long as he is equal to
this he remains their master. When his influence ceases, and his own
spirit is no longer strong enough to revive the spirit of others, the
masses, drawing him with them, sink into that lower region of animal
nature which recoils from danger and knows not shame. Such are the
obstacles which the brain and courage of the military commander must
overcome if he is to make his name illustrious.” And the obstacles are
never more formidable than when his troops see no sign of the support
they have expected. Then, if he still moves forward, although his peril
increase at every step, to the point of junction; if he declines the
temptation, although overwhelming numbers threaten him, of a safe line
of retreat; if, as did Jackson, he deliberately confronts and
challenges the hostile masses, then indeed does the soldier rise to the
highest level of moral energy.
Strongly does Napoleon inveigh against operations which entail the
division of an army into two columns unable to communicate; and
especially does he reprobate the strategy which places the point of
junction under the very beard of a concentrated enemy. Both of these
maxims Lee violated. The last because he knew Pope, the first because
he knew Jackson. It is rare indeed that such strategy succeeds. When
all has depended on a swift and unhesitating advance, generals renowned
for their ardent courage have wavered and turned aside. Hasdrubal,
divided from Hannibal by many miles and a Consular army, fell back to
the Metaurus, and Rome was saved. Two thousand years later, Prince
Frederick Charles, divided by a few marches and two Austrian army corps
from the Crown Prince, lingered so long upon the leer that the
supremacy of Prussia trembled in the balance. But the character of the
Virginian soldier was of loftier type. It has been remarked that after
Jackson’s death Lee never again attempted those great turning movements
which had
achieved his most brilliant victories. Never again did he divide his
army to unite it again on the field of battle. The reason is not far to
seek. There was now no general in the Confederate army to whom he dared
confide the charge of the detached wing, and in possessing one such
general he had been more fortunate than Napoleon.[10]
[1]
D. H. Hill
McLaws
Walker
Hampton
Artillery 7,000
6,850
4,000
1,500
1,000
———
20,350
[2] Hood’s Texans had a hymn which graphically expressed this truism:—
“The race is not to him that’s got
The longest legs to run,
Nor the battle to those people
That shoot the biggest gun.”
[3] This was one of the most brilliant cavalry fights of the war.
Colonel Munford, of the 2nd Virginia, finding the enemy advancing,
formed line and charged, the impetuosity of the attack carrying his
regiment through the enemy’s first line, with whom his men were
thoroughly intermingled in hand-to-hand conflict. The Federals,
however, who had advanced at a trot, in four successive lines, were
far superior in numbers; but the 7th and 12th Virginia rapidly came
up, and the charge of the 12th, constituting as it were a last
reserve, drove the enemy from the field. The Confederates lost 5
killed and 40 wounded. Munford himself, and the commander of the First
Michigan (Union) cavalry were both wounded by sabre-cuts, the latter
mortally. 300 Federals were taken prisoners, 19 killed, and 80
wounded. Sabre, carbine, and revolver were freely used.
[4] It was at this time, probably, that Jackson received a message
from a brigade commander, reporting that his cartridges were so wet
that he feared he could not maintain his position. “Tell him,” was the
quick reply, “to hold his ground; if his guns will not go off, neither
will the enemy’s.”
[5] Sumner and Franklin had become involved in Pope’s retreat.
[6] Tried by this test alone Lee stands out as one of the greatest
soldiers of all times. Not only against Pope, but against McClellan at
Gaines’ Mill, against Burnside at Fredericksburg, and against Hooker
at Chancellorsville, he succeeded in carrying out the operations of
which Moltke speaks; and in each case with the same result of
surprising his adversary. None knew better how to apply that great
principle of strategy, “to march divided but to fight concentrated.”
[7] It may be noticed, however, that the care with which Longstreet’s
troops were kept concealed for more than four-and-twenty hours had
much to do with Pope’s false manœuvres.
[8] Swinton. _Campaigns of the Army of the Potomac._
[9] Letter from Dr. Hunter McGuire.
[10] It is noteworthy that Moltke once, at Königgrätz, carried out the
operation referred to; Wellington twice, at Vittoria and Toulouse;
Napoleon, although he several times attempted it, and, against
inferior numbers, never, except at Ulm, with complete success.
Chapter XVIII
HARPER’S FERRY
Sept. 1862 The Confederate operations in Virginia during the spring and
summer of 1862 had been successful beyond expectation and almost beyond
precedent. Within six months two great armies had been defeated;
McClellan had been driven from the Peninsula, and Pope from the
Rappahannock. The villages of Virginia no longer swarmed with foreign
bayonets. The hostile camps had vanished from her inland counties.
Richmond was free from menace; and in the Valley of the Shenandoah the
harvest was gathered in without let or hindrance. Except at Winchester
and Martinsburg, where the garrisons, alarmed by the news of Pope’s
defeat, were already preparing to withdraw; in the vicinity of Norfolk,
and at Fortress Monroe, the invaders had no foothold within the
boundaries of the State they had just now overrun; and their
demoralised masses, lying exhausted behind the fortifications of
Washington and Alexandria, were in no condition to resume the
offensive. The North had opened the campaign in the early spring with
the confident hope of capturing the rebel capital; before the summer
was over it was questionable whether it would be able to save its own.
Had the rival armies been equally matched in numbers and equipment this
result would have hardly been remarkable. The Federals had had great
difficulties to contend with—an unknown country, bad roads, a hostile
population, natural obstacles of formidable character, statesmen
ignorant of war, and generals at loggerheads with the Administration.
Yet so superior were their numbers, so ample their resources, that even
these
disadvantages might have been overcome had the strategy of the Southern
leaders been less admirable. Lee, Jackson, and Johnston had played the
_rôle_ of the defender to perfection. No attempt had been made to hold
the frontier. Mobility and not earthwork was the weapon on which they
had relied. Richmond, the only fortress, had been used as a pivot of
operations, and not merely as a shelter for the army. The specious
expedient of pushing forward advanced guards to harass or delay the
enemy had been avoided; and thus no opportunity had been offered to the
invaders of dealing with the defence in detail, or of raising their own
_moral_ by victory over isolated detachments. The generals had declined
battle until their forces were concentrated and the enemy was divided.
Nor had they fought except on ground of their own choice. Johnston had
refused to be drawn into decisive action until McClellan became
involved in the swamps of the Chickahominy. Jackson, imitating like his
superior the defensive strategy of Wellington and Napoleon, had fallen
back to a zone of manœuvre south of the Massanuttons. By retreating to
the inaccessible fastness of Elk Run Valley he had drawn Banks and
Frémont up the Shenandoah, their lines of communication growing longer
and more vulnerable at every march, and requiring daily more men to
guard them. Then, rushing from his stronghold, he had dealt his blows,
clearing the Valley from end to end, destroying the Federal magazines,
and threatening Washington itself; and when the overwhelming masses he
had drawn on himself sought to cut him off, he had selected his own
battle-field, and crushed the converging columns which his skill had
kept apart. The hapless Pope, too, had been handled in the same fashion
as McClellan, Banks, Shields, and Frémont. Jackson had lured him
forward to the Rapidan; and although his retreat had been speedy, Lee
had completed his defeat before he could be efficiently supported. But,
notwithstanding all that had been done, much yet remained to do.
It was doubtless within the bounds of probability that a second attempt
to invade Virginia would succeed no
better than the first. But it was by no means certain that the
resolution of the North was not sufficient to withstand a long series
of disasters so long as the war was confined to Southern territory;
and, at the same time, it might well be questioned whether the South
could sustain, without foreign aid, the protracted and exhausting
process of a purely defensive warfare. If her tactics, as well as her
strategy, could be confined to the defensive; that is, if her generals
could await the invaders in selected and prepared positions, and if no
task more difficult should devolve upon her troops than shooting down
their foes as they moved across the open to the assault of strong
intrenchments, then the hope might reasonably be entertained that she
might tire out the North. But the campaign, so far as it had
progressed, had shown, if indeed history had not already made it
sufficiently clear, that opportunities for such tactics were not likely
to occur. The Federal generals had consistently refused to run their
heads against earthworks. Their overwhelming numbers would enable them
to turn any position, however formidable; and the only chance of
success lay in keeping these numbers apart and in preventing them from
combining.
It was by strategic and tactical counterstrokes that the recent
victories had been won. Although it had awaited attack within its own
frontier, the Army of Northern Virginia had but small experience of
defensive warfare. With the exception of the actions round Yorktown, of
Cross Keys, and of the Second Manassas, the battles had been entirely
aggressive. The idea that a small army, opposed to one vastly superior,
cannot afford to attack because the attack is costly, and that it must
trust for success to favourable ground, had been effectually dispelled.
Lee and Jackson had taught the Southerners that the secret of success
lies not in strong positions, but in the concentration, by means of
skilful strategy, of superior numbers on the field of battle. Their
tactics had been essentially offensive, and it is noteworthy that their
victories had not been dearly purchased. If we compare them with those
of the British in the Peninsula, we shall
find that with no greater loss than Wellington incurred in the
defensive engagements of three years, 1810, 1811, 1812, the
Confederates had attacked and routed armies far larger in proportion
than those which Wellington had merely repulsed.[1]
But if they had shown that the best defence lies in a vigorous
offensive, their offensive had not yet been applied at the decisive
point. To make victory complete it is the sounder policy to carry the
war into hostile territory. A nation endures with comparative
equanimity defeat beyond its own borders. Pride and prestige may
suffer, but a high-spirited people will seldom be brought to the point
of making terms unless its army is annihilated in the heart of its own
country, unless the capital is occupied and the hideous sufferings of
war are brought directly home to the mass of the population. A single