Stonewall Jackson and the American Civil War
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