Stonewall Jackson and the American Civil War
believed that Jackson was at Harrisonburg. Ashby had done his work
well.
It might be argued, however, that with an antagonist
so supine as Banks Jackson might have openly marched to Staunton by the
most direct route; in fact, that he need never have left the Valley at
all. But, had he taken the road across the Valley, he would have
advertised his purpose. Milroy would have received long warning of his
approach, and all chance of effecting a surprise would have been lost.
On April 29, the day on which Jackson began his movement, Richmond was
still safe. The Yorktown lines were intact, held by the 53,000
Confederates under Johnston; but it was very evident that they could
not be long maintained.
A large siege train had been brought from Washington, and Johnston had
already learned that in a few days one hundred pieces of the heaviest
ordnance would open fire on his position. His own armament was
altogether inadequate to cope with such ponderous metal. His strength
was not half his adversary’s, and he had determined to retreat without
waiting to have his works demolished.
But the mighty army in his front was not the only danger. McDowell,
with 35,000 men, had already concentrated near Falmouth. Johnston, in
falling back on Richmond, was in danger of being caught between two
fires, for to oppose McDowell on the Rappahannock Lee had been unable
to assemble more than 12,000 Confederates.
These facts were all known to Jackson. Whether the march to Mechum’s
River was intended by him to have any further effect on the Federals
than surprising Milroy, and clearing the way for an attack on Banks, it
is impossible to say. It is indisputable, at the same time, that his
sudden disappearance from the Valley disturbed Mr. Stanton. The
Secretary of War had suspected that Jackson’s occupation of Swift Run
Gap meant mischief. McDowell, who had been instructed to cross the
Rappahannock, was ordered in consequence to stand fast at Falmouth, and
was warned that the enemy, amusing McClellan at Yorktown, might make a
sudden dash on either himself or Banks.
A few days later McDowell reported that Jackson had passed
Gordonsville. The news came from deserters, “very
intelligent men.” The next day he was informed that Shields was to be
transferred to his command, and that he was to bear in mind his
instructions as to the defence of Washington. Banks had already been
ordered back to Strasburg. Now, a few days previously, Stanton had been
talking of co-operation between McClellan and McDowell. Directly he
learned that Jackson was east of the Blue Ridge all thought of
combination was abandoned; McDowell was held back; Shields was sent to
reinforce him; and the possible danger to Washington overrode all other
considerations.
The weak point of McClellan’s strategy was making itself felt. In
advancing on Richmond by way of the Peninsula he had deliberately
adopted what are called in strategy “the exterior lines.” That is, his
forces were distributed on the arc of a circle, of which Richmond and
the Confederate army were the centre. If, landing on the Peninsula, he
had been able to advance at once upon Richmond, the enemy must have
concentrated for the defence of his capital, and neither Banks nor
Washington would have been disturbed. But the moment his advance was
checked, as it was at Yorktown, the enemy could detach at his leisure
in any direction that he pleased, and McClellan was absolutely unable
to support the threatened point. The strategy of exterior lines
demands, for success, a strong and continuous pressure on the enemy’s
main army, depriving him of the time and the space necessary for
counterstroke. If this is impossible, a skilful foe will at once make
use of his central position.
Lincoln appears to have had an instinctive apprehension that McClellan
might not be able to exert sufficient pressure to hold Johnston fast,
and it was for this reason that he had fought so strongly against the
Peninsula line of invasion. It was the probability that the
Confederates would use their opportunity with which Stanton had now to
deal, complicated by the fact that their numbers were believed to be
much greater than they really were. Still the problem was not one of
insurmountable difficulty. Banks and Frémont united had 40,000 men,
McDowell over 30,000. A few marches would have brought these forces
into combination.
Banks and Frémont, occupying Staunton, and moving on Gordonsville,
would have soon taken up communication with McDowell; an army 70,000
strong, far larger than any force the Confederates could detach against
it, would have threatened Richmond from the north and west, and, at the
same time, would have covered Washington. This plan, though not without
elements of danger, offered some advantages. Nor were soldiers wanting
to advise it. Both Rosecrans and Shields had submitted schemes for such
a combination. Mr. Stanton, however, preferred to control the
chessboard by the light of unaided wisdom; and while McDowell was
unnecessarily strengthened, both Banks and Frémont were dangerously
weakened.
The only single point where the Secretary showed the slightest sagacity
was in apprehending that the Confederates would make use of their
opportunity, and overwhelm one of the detachments he had so ingeniously
isolated.
On April 29 Johnston proposed to Davis that his army should be
withdrawn from the Peninsula, and that the North should be invaded by
way of the Valley.[26] Lee, in the name of the President, replied that
some such scheme had been for some time under consideration; and the
burden of his letters, as we have seen, both to Ewell and Jackson, was
that a sudden and heavy blow should be struck at some exposed portion
of the invading armies. Mr. Stanton was so far right; but where the
blow was to be struck he was absolutely unable to divine.
“It is believed,” he writes to the Assistant Secretary on May 8, “that
a considerable force has been sent toward the Rappahannock and
Shenandoah to move on Washington. Jackson is reinforced strongly.
Telegraph McDowell, Banks, and Hartsuff (at Warrenton) to keep a sharp
look-out. Tell General Hitchcock to see that the force around
Washington is in proper condition.”
It was indeed unfortunate for the North that at this juncture the
military affairs of the Confederacy should have been placed in the
hands of the clearest-sighted soldier in America. It was an unequal
match, Lincoln and Stanton
against Lee; and the stroke that was to prove the weakness of the
Federal strategy was soon to fall. On May 7 Jackson westward marched in
the following order: Edward Johnson’s regiments led the way, several
miles in advance; the Third and Second Brigades followed; the
Stonewall, under General Winder, a young West Point officer of
exceptional promise, bringing up the rear. “The corps of cadets of the
Virginia Military Institute,” says Dabney, “was also attached to the
expedition; and the spruce equipments and exact drill of the youths, as
they stepped out full of enthusiasm to take their first actual look
upon the horrid visage of war, under their renowned professor, formed a
strong contrast with the war-worn and nonchalant veterans who composed
the army.”[27]
Eighteen miles west of Staunton a Federal picket was overrun, and in
the pass leading to the Shenandoah Mountain Johnson captured a camp
that had just been abandoned. The Federal rear-guard fired a few
shells, and the Confederates went into bivouac. Johnson had marched
fourteen and Jackson twenty miles.
That night Milroy concentrated his whole brigade of 3,700 men at
M’Dowell, a little village at the foot of the Bull Pasture Mountain,
and sent back in haste for reinforcements. Frémont’s command was much
strung out. When Milroy had moved from Cheat Mountain through Monterey,
twelve miles west of M’Dowell,[28] the remainder of the army had
started up the South Branch Valley to reinforce him. But snowstorms and
heavy rains had much delayed the march, and Schenck’s brigade had not
advanced beyond Franklin, thirty-four miles north of M’Dowell. Frémont
himself, with a couple of battalions, was approaching Petersburg,
thirty-five miles from Franklin; and Blenker’s division, still further
to the rear, had not yet quitted Romney.
May 8 “On the following morning,” to quote from Jackson’s report, “the
march was resumed, General Johnson’s brigade still in front. The head
of the column was halted near the top of Bull Pasture Mountain, and
General Johnson, accompanied by a party of thirty men and several
officers, with a view to a reconnaissance of the enemy’s position,
ascended Sitlington’s Hill, an isolated spur on the left of the
turnpike and commanding a full view of the village of M’Dowell. From
this point the position, and to some extent the strength, of the enemy
could be seen. In the valley in which M’Dowell is situated was observed
a considerable force of infantry. To the right, on a height, were two
regiments, but too distant for an effective fire to that point. Almost
a mile in front was a battery supported by infantry. The enemy,
observing a reconnoitring party, sent a small body of skirmishers,
which was promptly met by the men with General Johnson and driven back.
For the purpose of securing the hill all of General Johnson’s regiments
were sent to him.”
Jackson had no intention of delivering a direct assault on the Federal
position. The ground was altogether unfavourable for attack. The hill
on which his advanced guard was now established was more than two miles
broad from east to west. But it was no plateau. Rugged and precipitous
ridges towered high above the level, and numerous ravines, hidden by
thick timber, seamed the surface of the spur. To the front a slope of
smooth unbroken greensward dropped sharply down; and five hundred feet
below, behind a screen of woods, the Bull Pasture River ran swiftly
through its narrow valley. On the river banks were the Federals; and
beyond the valley the wooded mountains, a very labyrinth of hills, rose
high and higher to the west. To the right was a deep gorge, nearly half
a mile across from cliff to cliff, dividing Sitlington’s Hill from the
heights to northward; and through this dangerous defile ran the
turnpike, eventually debouching on a bridge which was raked by the
Federal guns. To the left the country presented exactly the same
features. Mountain after mountain, ridge after ridge, cleft by shadowy
crevasses, and clothed with great tracts of forest, rolled back in
tortuous masses to the backbone of the Alleghanies; a narrow pass,
leading due westward, marking the route to Monterey and the Ohio River.
Although commanded by Sitlington’s Hill, the Federal position was
difficult to reach. The river, swollen by rain, protected it in front.
The bridge could only be approached by a single road, with inaccessible
heights on either hand. The village of M’Dowell was crowded with troops
and guns. A low hill five hundred yards beyond the bridge was occupied
by infantry and artillery; long lines of tents were ranged on the level
valley, and the hum of many voices, excited by the appearance of the
enemy, was borne upwards to the heights. Had the Confederate artillery
been brought to the brow of Sitlington’s Hill, the valley would
doubtless soon have become untenable, and the enemy have been compelled
to retire through the mountains. It was by no means easy, however, to
prevent them from getting away unscathed. But Jackson was not the man
to leave the task untried, and to content himself with a mere
cannonade. He had reason to hope that Milroy was ignorant of his
junction with General Johnson, and that he would suppose he had only
the six regiments of the latter with which to deal. The day was far
spent, and the Valley brigades, toiling through the mountains, were