Stonewall Jackson and the American Civil War
Burnside’s assault without further support than could be rendered by
the artillery. They were not so left, however, because it was
impossible to aid them. Jackson’s and Longstreet’s
troops, despite the fiery ordeal through which they had passed, were
not yet powerless, and the Confederate leaders were prepared for
offensive tactics. A sufficient force to sustain the right might have
been withdrawn from the left and centre; but Hill’s approach was known,
and it was considered inadvisable to abandon all hold of the means for
a decisive counterstroke on the opposite flank. Early in the afternoon
Longstreet had given orders for an advance. Hood’s division, with full
cartridge-boxes, had reappeared upon the field. Jones’ and Lawton’s
divisions were close behind; the batteries had replenished their
ammunition, and if Longstreet was hardly warranted in arranging a
general counter-attack on his own responsibility, he had at least full
confidence in the ability of the troops to execute it. “It seemed
probable,” he says, “that by concealing our movements under cover of
the (West) wood, we could draw our columns so near to the enemy to the
front that we would have but a few rods to march to mingle our ranks
with his; that our columns, massed in goodly numbers, and pressing
heavily upon a single point, would give the enemy much trouble and
might cut him in two, breaking up his battle arrangements at Burnside
Bridge.”[19]
The stroke against the centre was not, however, to be tried. Lee had
other views, and Jackson had been already ordered to turn the Federal
right. Stuart, reinforced by a regiment of infantry and several light
batteries, was instructed to reconnoitre the enemy’s position, and if
favourable ground were found, he was to be supported by all the
infantry available. “About half-past twelve,” says General Walker, “I
sought Jackson to report that from the front of my position in the wood
I thought I had observed a movement of the enemy, as if to pass through
the gap where I had posted Colonel Cooke’s two regiments. I found
Jackson in rear of Barksdale’s brigade, under an apple tree, sitting on
his horse, with one leg thrown carelessly over the pommel of his
saddle, plucking and eating the fruit. Without making any reply to my
report, he asked me abruptly: ‘Can you spare me a
regiment and a battery?’ . . . Adding that he wished to make up, from
the different commands on our left, a force of four or five thousand
men, and give them to Stuart, with orders to turn the enemy’s right and
attack him in the rear; that I must give orders to my division to
advance to the front, and attack the enemy as soon as I should hear
Stuart’s guns, and that our whole left wing would move to the attack at
the same time. Then, replacing his foot in the stirrup, he said with
great emphasis, ‘We’ll drive McClellan into the Potomac.’
“Returning to my command, I repeated General Jackson’s order to my
brigade commanders and directed them to listen to the sound of Stuart’s
guns. We all confidently expected to hear the welcome sound by two
o’clock at least, and as that hour approached every ear was on the
alert. Napoleon at Waterloo did not listen more intently for the sound
of Grouchy’s fire than did we for Stuart’s. Two o’clock came, but
nothing was heard of Stuart. Half-past two, and then three, and still
Stuart made no sign.
“About half-past three a staff officer of General Longstreet’s brought
me an order to advance and attack the enemy in my front. As the
execution of this order would have materially interfered with Jackson’s
plans, I thought it my duty before beginning the movement to
communicate with General Longstreet personally. I found him in rear of
the position in which I had posted Cooke in the morning, and upon
informing him of Jackson’s intentions, he withdrew his order.
“While we were discussing this subject, Jackson himself joined us with
the information of Stuart’s failure to turn the Federal right, for the
reason that he found it securely posted on the Potomac. Upon my
expressing surprise at this statement, Jackson replied that he also had
been surprised, as he had supposed the Potomac much further away; but
he remarked that Stuart had an excellent eye for topography, and it
must be as he represented. ‘It is a great pity,’ he added; ‘we should
have driven McClellan into the Potomac.’”[20]
That a counterstroke which would have combined a frontal and flank
attack would have been the best chance of destroying the Federal army
can hardly be questioned. The front so bristled with field artillery,
and the ridge beyond the Antietam was so strong in heavier ordnance,
that a purely frontal attack, such as Longstreet suggested, was hardly
promising; but the dispositions which baffled Stuart were the work of a
sound tactician. Thirty rifled guns had been assembled in a single
battery a mile north of the West Wood, where the Hagerstown turnpike
ascends a commanding ridge, and the broad channel of the Potomac is
within nine hundred yards. Here had rallied such portions of Hooker’s
army corps as had not dispersed, and here Mansfield’s two divisions had
reformed; and although the infantry could hardly have opposed a
resolute resistance the guns were ready to repeat the lesson of Malvern
Hill. Against the rifled pieces the light Confederate smooth-bores were
practically useless. Stuart’s caution was fully justified, and the sun
sank on an indecisive battle.
“The blessed night came, and brought with it sleep and forgetfulness
and refreshment to many; but the murmur of the night wind, breathing
over fields of wheat and clover, was mingled with the groans of the
countless sufferers of both armies. Who can tell, who can even imagine,
the horrors of such a night, while the unconscious stars shone above,
and the unconscious river went rippling by?”[21] Out of 130,000 men
upon the ground, 21,000 had been killed or wounded, more than sixteen
per cent.; and 25,000 of the Federals can hardly be said to have been
engaged.
The losses of the Confederate left have already been enumerated. Those
of the centre and the right, although A. P. Hill reported only 350
casualties, had hardly been less severe. In all 9,500 officers and men,
one-fourth of the total strength, had fallen, and many of the regiments
had almost disappeared.[22] The 17th Virginia, for
instance, of Longstreet’s command, took into battle 9 officers and 46
men; of these 7 officers and 24 men were killed or wounded, and 10
taken prisoners, leaving 2 officers and 12 men to represent a regiment
which was over 1,000 strong at Bull Run. Yet as the men sank down to
rest on the line of battle, so exhausted that they could not be
awakened to eat their rations; as the blood cooled and the tension on
the nerves relaxed, and even the officers, faint with hunger and
sickened with the awful slaughter, looked forward with apprehension to
the morrow, from one indomitable heart the hope of victory had not yet
vanished. In the deep silence of the night, more oppressive than the
stunning roar of battle, Lee, still mounted, stood on the highroad to
the Potomac, and as general after general rode in wearily from the
front, he asked quietly of each, “How is it on your part of the line?”
Each told the same tale: their men were worn out; the enemy’s numbers
were overwhelming; there was nothing left but to retreat across the
Potomac before daylight. Even Jackson had no other counsel to offer.
His report was not the less impressive for his quiet and respectful
tone. He had had to contend, he said, against the heaviest odds he had
ever met. Many of his divisional and brigade commanders were dead or
wounded, and his loss had been severe. Hood, who came next, was quite
unmanned. He exclaimed that he had no men left. “Great God!” cried Lee,
with an excitement he had not yet displayed, “where is the splendid
division you had this morning?” “They are lying on the field, where you
sent them,” was the reply, “for few have straggled. My division has
been almost wiped out.”
After all had given their opinion, there was an appalling silence,
which seemed to last for several minutes, and then General Lee, rising
erect in his stirrups, said, “Gentlemen, we will not cross the Potomac
to-night. You will go to your respective commands, strengthen your
lines; send
two officers from each brigade towards the ford to collect your
stragglers and get them up. Many have come in. I have had the proper
steps taken to collect all the men who are in the rear. If McClellan
wants to fight in the morning, I will give him battle again. Go!”
Without a word of remonstrance the group broke up, leaving their great
commander alone with his responsibility, and, says an eyewitness, “if I
read their faces aright, there was not one but considered that General
Lee was taking a fearful risk.”[23] So the soldiers’ sleep was
undisturbed. Through the September night they lay beside their arms,
and from the dark spaces beyond came the groans of the wounded and the
nameless odours of the battle-field. Not often has the night looked
down upon a scene more terrible. The moon, rising above the mountains,
revealed the long lines of men and guns, stretching far across hill and
valley, waiting for the dawn to shoot each other down, and between the
armies their dead lay in such numbers as civilised war has seldom seen.
So fearful had been the carnage, and comprised within such narrow
limits, that a Federal patrol, it is related, passing into the
corn-field, where the fighting had been fiercest, believed that they
had surprised a whole Confederate brigade. There, in the shadow of the
woods, lay the skirmishers, their muskets beside them, and there, in
regular ranks, lay the line of battle, sleeping, as it seemed, the
profound sleep of utter exhaustion. But the first man that was touched
was cold and lifeless, and the next, and the next; it was the bivouac
of the dead.
Sept. 18 When the day dawned the Confederate divisions, reinforced by
some 5,000 or 6,000 stragglers, held the same position as the previous
evening, and over against them, seen dimly through the mist, lay the
Federal lines. The skirmishers, crouching behind the shattered fences,
confronted each other at short range; the guns of both armies were
unlimbered, and the masses of infantry, further to the rear, lay ready
for instant conflict. But not a shot was fired. The sun rose higher in
the
heavens; the warm breath of the autumn morning rustled in the woods,
but still the same strange silence prevailed. The men spoke in
undertones, watching intently the movements of staff officers and
orderlies; but the ranks lay as still as the inanimate forms, half
hidden by the trodden corn, which lay so thickly between the lines; and
as the hours passed on without stir or shot, the Southern generals
acknowledged that Lee’s daring in offering battle was fully justified.
The enemy’s aggressive strength was evidently exhausted; and then arose
the question, Could the Confederates attack? It would seem that the
possibility of a great counterstroke had already been the subject of
debate, and that Lee, despite the failure of the previous evening, and
Jackson’s adverse report, believed that the Federal right might be
outflanked and overwhelmed. “During the morning,” writes General
Stephen D. Lee, “a courier from headquarters came to my battalion of
artillery with a message that the Commander-in-Chief wished to see me.
I followed the courier, and on meeting General Lee, he said, ‘Colonel
Lee, I wish you to go with this courier to General Jackson, and say
that I sent you to report to him.’ I replied, ‘General, shall I take my
batteries with me?’ He said, ‘No, just say that I told you to report to
him, and he will tell you what he wants.’ I soon reached General