Stonewall Jackson and the American Civil War
action, and it was difficult to conceive that she could hold her own
against McClellan’s magnificently appointed host. “Events,” said Davis
at this time, “have cast on our arms and hopes the gloomiest shadows.”
But from the Valley, the northern outpost of the Confederate armies,
where the danger was most threatening and the means of defence the most
inadequate, came not a whisper of apprehension. The troops that held
the border were but a handful, but Jackson knew enough of war to be
aware that victory does not always side with the big battalions.
Neither Johnston nor Davis had yet recognised, as he did, the weak
joint in the Federal harness. Why should the appearance of Hill’s
brigade at Winchester discourage Banks? Johnston had fallen back to the
Rapidan, and there was now no fear of the Confederates detaching troops
suddenly from Manassas. Why should the bare idea that reinforcements
were coming up embarrass the Federals?
The letter itself does not indeed supply a definite answer. Jackson was
always most guarded in his correspondence; and, if he could possibly
avoid it, he never
made the slightest allusion to the information on which his plans were
based. His staff officers, however, after the campaign was over, were
generally enlightened as to the motive of his actions, and we are thus
enabled to fill the gap.[2] Jackson demanded reinforcements for the one
reason that a blow struck near Winchester would cause alarm in
Washington. The communications of the Federal capital with both the
North and West passed through or close to Harper’s Ferry; and the
passage over the Potomac, which Banks was now covering, was thus the
most sensitive point in the invader’s front. Well aware, as indeed was
every statesman and every general in Virginia, of the state of public
feeling in the North, Jackson saw with more insight than others the
effect that was likely to be produced should the Government, the press,
and the people of the Federal States have reason to apprehend that the
capital of the Union was in danger.
If the idea of playing on the fears of his opponents by means of the
weak detachment under Jackson ever suggested itself to Johnston, he may
be forgiven if he dismissed it as chimerical. For 7,600 men[3] to
threaten with any useful result a capital which was defended by 250,000
seemed hardly within the bounds of practical strategy. Johnston had
nevertheless determined to turn the situation to account. In order to
protect the passages of the Upper Potomac, McClellan had been compelled
to disseminate his army. Between his main body south of Washington and
his right wing under Banks was a gap of fifty miles, and this
separation Johnston was determined should be maintained. The President,
to whom he had referred Jackson’s letter, was unable to spare the
reinforcements therein requested, and the defence of the Valley was
left to the 4,600 men encamped at Winchester. Jackson was permitted to
use his own judgment as to his own position, but something more was
required of him than the mere protection of a tract of territory. “He
was to endeavour to employ the invaders in the Valley without exposing
himself to the
danger of defeat, by keeping so near the enemy as to prevent his making
any considerable detachment to reinforce McClellan, but not so near
that he might be compelled to fight.”[4]
To carry out these instructions Jackson had at his disposal 3,600
infantry, 600 cavalry, and six batteries of 27 guns. Fortunately, they
were all Virginians, with the exception of one battalion, the First,
which was composed of Irish navvies.
This force, which had now received the title of the Army of the Valley,
was organised in three brigades:—
First Brigade (“Stonewall”):
Brigadier-General Garnett 2nd Virginia Regiment
4th Virginia Regiment
5th Virginia Regiment
27th Virginia Regiment
33rd Virginia Regiment
Second Brigade: Colonel Burks 21st Virginia Regiment
42nd Virginia Regiment
48th Virginia Regiment
1st Regular Battalion (Irish)
Third Brigade: Colonel Fulkerson 23rd Virginia Regiment
27th Virginia Regiment
McLaughlin’s Battery
Waters’ Battery
Carpenter’s Battery
Marye’s Battery
Shumaker’s Battery
Ashby’s Regiment of Cavalry
Chew’s Horse-Artillery Battery 8 guns
4 guns
4 guns
4 guns
4 guns
3 guns
The infantry were by this time fairly well armed and equipped, but the
field-pieces were mostly smoothbores of small calibre. Of the quality
of the troops Bull Run had been sufficient test. Side by side with the
sons of the old Virginia houses the hunters and yeomen of the Valley
had proved their worth. Their skill as marksmen had stood them in good
stead. Men who had been used from boyhood to shoot squirrels in the
woodland found the Federal soldier a target difficult to miss.
Skirmishing and patrolling came instinctively to those who had stalked
the deer and the bear in the mountain forests; and the simple hardy
life of an
agricultural community was the best probation for the trials of a
campaign. The lack of discipline and of competent regimental officers
might have placed them at a disadvantage had they been opposed to
regulars; but they were already half-broken to the soldier’s trade
before they joined the ranks. They were no strangers to camp and
bivouac, to peril and adventure; their hands could guard their heads.
Quick sight and steady nerve, unfailing vigilance and instant resolve,
the very qualities which their devotion to field-sports fostered, were
those which had so often prevailed in the war of the Revolution over
the mechanical tactics of well-disciplined battalions; and on ground
with which they were perfectly familiar the men of the Shenandoah were
formidable indeed.
They were essentially rough and ready. Their appearance would hardly
have captivated a martinet. The eye that lingers lovingly on glittering
buttons and spotless belts would have turned away in disdain from
Jackson’s soldiers. There was nothing bright about them but their
rifles. They were as badly dressed, and with as little regard for
uniformity, as the defenders of Torres Vedras or the Army of Italy in
1796. Like Wellington and Napoleon, the Confederate generals cared very
little what their soldiers wore so long as they did their duty. Least
of all can one imagine Stonewall Jackson exercising his mind as to the
cut of a tunic or the polish of a buckle. The only standing order in
the English army of the Peninsula which referred to dress forbade the
wearing of the enemy’s uniform. It was the same in the Army of the
Valley, although at a later period even this order was of necessity
ignored. As their forefathers of the Revolution took post in
Washington’s ranks clad in hunting shirts and leggings, so the
Confederate soldiers preferred the garments spun by their own women to
those supplied them by the State. Grey, of all shades, from light blue
to butter-nut, was the universal colour. The coatee issued in the early
days of the war had already given place to a short-waisted and
single-breasted jacket. The blue _képi_ held out longer. The soft felt
hat which experience soon proved the most serviceable head-dress had
not yet become universal. But the long boots had gone; and strong
brogans, with broad soles and low heels, had been found more
comfortable. Overcoats were soon discarded. “The men came to the
conclusion that the trouble of carrying them on hot days outweighed
their comfort when the cold day arrived. Besides, they found that life
in the open air hardened them to such an extent that changes in
temperature were hardly felt.”[5] Nor did the knapsack long survive.
“It was found to gall the back and shoulders and weary the man before
half the march was accomplished. It did not pay to carry around clean
clothes while waiting for the time to use them.”[6] But the men still
clung to their blankets and waterproof sheets, worn in a roll over the
left shoulder, and the indispensable haversack carried their whole kit.
Tents—except the enemy’s—were rarely seen. The Army of the Valley
generally bivouacked in the woods, the men sleeping in pairs, rolled in
their blankets and rubber sheets. The cooking arrangements were
primitive. A few frying-pans and skillets formed the culinary apparatus
of a company, with a bucket or two in addition, and the frying-pans
were generally carried with their handles stuck in the rifle-barrels!
The tooth-brush was a button-hole ornament, and if, as was sometimes
the case, three days’ rations were served out at a single issue, the
men usually cooked and ate them at once, so as to avoid the labour of
carrying them.
Such was Jackson’s infantry, a sorry contrast indeed to the soldierly
array of the Federals, with their complete appointments and trim blue
uniforms. But fine feathers, though they may have their use, are hardly
essential to efficiency in the field; and whilst it is absolutely true
that no soldiers ever marched with less to encumber them than the
Confederates, it is no empty boast that none ever marched faster or
held out longer.
If the artillery, with a most inferior equipment, was less efficient
than the infantry, the cavalry was an invaluable auxiliary. Ashby was
the _beau-idéal_ of a captain of light-horse. His reckless daring, both
across-country and under fire, made him the idol of the army. Nor was
his reputation confined to the Confederate ranks. “I think even our
men,” says a Federal officer, “had a kind of admiration for him, as he
sat unmoved upon his horse, and let them pepper away at him as if he
enjoyed it.” His one shortcoming was his ignorance of drill and
discipline. But in the spring of 1862 these deficiencies were in a fair
way of being rectified. He had already learned something of tactics. In
command of a few hundred mounted riflemen and a section of
horse-artillery he was unsurpassed; and if his men were apt to get out
of hand in battle, his personal activity ensured their strict attention
on the outposts. He thought little of riding seventy or eighty miles
within the day along his picket line, and it is said that he first
recommended himself to Jackson by visiting the Federal camps disguised
as a horse doctor. Jackson placed much dependence on his mounted
troops. Immediately he arrived in the Valley he established his cavalry
outposts far to the front. While the infantry were reposing in their
camps near Winchester, the south bank of the Potomac, forty miles
northward, was closely and incessantly patrolled. The squadrons never
lacked recruits. With the horse-loving Virginians the cavalry was the
favourite arm, and the strength of the regiments was only limited by
the difficulty of obtaining horses. To the sons of the Valley planters
and farmers Ashby’s ranks offered a most attractive career. The
discipline was easy, and there was no time for drill. But of excitement
and adventure there was enough and to spare. Scarcely a day passed
without shots being exchanged at one point or another of the picket
line. There were the enemy’s outposts to be harassed, prisoners to be
taken, bridges to be burnt, and convoys to be captured. Many were the
opportunities for distinction. Jackson demanded something more from his
cavalry than merely guarding the frontier. It was not sufficient for
him to receive warning that the enemy was advancing. He wanted
information from which he could deduce what he intended doing;
information of the strength of his garrisons, of the dispositions of
his camps, of every movement which took place beyond the river. The
cavalry had other and more dangerous duties than vedette and
escort. To penetrate the enemy’s lines, to approach his camps, and
observe his columns—these were the tasks of Ashby’s riders, and in
these they were unrivalled. Many of them were no more than boys; but