Stonewall Jackson and the American Civil War
[35] Grant’s _Memoirs._
[36] The morning after the battle one of the Confederate officers
expressed the opinion that even if the counterstroke had been
successful, the Federal reserves would have arrested it. Jackson
answered, “No, if I had routed the men on the ridge, they would all
have gone off together.”
[37] Colonel E. H. C. Cavins, _Battles and Leaders,_ vol. ii, p. 307.
[38] O.R., vol. xii, part iii, p. 840.
[39] The truth is that in war, accurate intelligence, especially when
two armies are in close contact, is exceedingly difficult to obtain.
At Jena, even after the battle ended, Napoleon believed that the
Prussians had put 80,000 men in line instead of 45,000. The night
before Eylau, misled by the reports of Murat’s cavalry, he was
convinced that the Russians were retreating; and before Ligny he
underestimated Blucher’s strength by 40,000. The curious
misconceptions under which the Germans commenced the battles of
Spicheren, Mars-la-Tour, and Gravelotte will also occur to the
military reader.
[40] O.R., vol. xii, part iii, p. 4.
Chapter IX
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