Stonewall Jackson and the American Civil War
As soon as it opened fire the Southern infantry was ordered to attack;
and while one regiment, working round through the woods on the enemy’s
left, endeavoured to outflank his guns, four others, in successive
lines, advanced across the plain against his front. The Federals,
undismayed by the disparity of numbers, were fighting bravely, and had
just been reinforced by a squadron of New York regiment, when word was
brought to their commander that a regiment of Southern cavalry had
appeared between the rivers to his right rear. He at once gave the
order to retire. The movement was carried out in good order, under
heavy musketry, and the tents and stores were given to the flames; but
an attempt to fire the bridges failed, for the Louisiana infantry,
rushing recklessly forward, darted into the flames, and extinguished
the burning brands. Sufficient damage was done, however, to render the
passage of the North Fork by the Confederates slow and difficult; and
Kenly took post on Guard Hill, a commanding ridge beyond the stream.
Again there was delay. The smoke of the burning camp, rolling past in
dense volumes, formed an impenetrable screen; the river was deep and
turbulent, with a strong current; and the Federal guns commanded the
single bridge. The cavalry, however, were not long in discovering a
practicable ford. The river was soon alive with horsemen; and, forcing
their way through the swirling waters, four squadrons of the 6th
Virginia, accompanied by Jackson, gained the further bank, and formed
up rapidly for pursuit. The enemy had already retired, and the dust of
the retreating column warn receding fast down the road to Winchester.
Without waiting for reinforcements, and without artillery, Jackson
urged the 6th Virginia forward. The country through which the turnpike
runs is rolling and well-farmed, and the rail fences on either hand
made movement across the fields by no means easy. But the Confederate
advance was vigorous. The New York cavalry, pressed at every point,
were beginning to waver; and near the little hamlet of Cedarville, some
three miles from his last position, Kenly gave orders for his infantry
to check the pursuit.
The column had halted. Men were tearing down the fences, and the
companies were forming for battle in the fields, when there was a
sudden outcry, the rolling thunder of many hoofs, and the sharp rattle
of pistol-shots. A dense cloud of dust came whirling down the turnpike,
and emerging from the yellow canopy the New York troopers, riding for
their lives, dashed through the ranks of the startled infantry, while
the Confederate horsemen, extending far to right and left, came surging
on their traces.
The leading squadron, keeping to the high road, was formed four
abreast, and the deep mass was wedged tightly between the fences. The
foremost files were mowed down by a volley at close range, and here,
for a moment, the attack was checked. But the Virginians meant riding
home. On either flank the supporting squadrons galloped swiftly
forward, and up the road and across the fields, while the earth shook
beneath their tread, swept their charging lines, the men yelling in
their excitement and horses as frenzied as their riders. In vain the
Federal officers tried to deploy their companies. Kenly, calling on
them to rally round the colours, was cut down with a dreadful wound.
The grey troopers fell on them before they could fix bayonets or form a
front, and sabre and revolver found an easy mark in the crowded masses
of panic-stricken infantry. One of the guns was surrounded, and the
gunners were cut to pieces; the other escaped for the moment, but was
soon abandoned; and with the appearance of a fresh Confederate squadron
on the scene Kenly’s whole force dispersed in flight. Through woods and
orchards
the chase went on. Escape was impossible. Hundreds laid down their
arms; and 250 Virginia horsemen, resolutely handled and charging at
exactly the right moment, had the honour of bringing in as prisoners
600 Federals, including 20 officers and a complete section of
artillery. The enemy lost in addition 32 killed and 122 wounded. The
Confederate casualties were 11 killed and 15 wounded, and so sudden and
vigorous was their attack that a Federal colonel estimated their
numbers at 3,000.
Colonel Flournoy, a most daring officer, led the squadrons to the
charge; but that the opportunity was so instantly utilised was due to
Jackson. “No sooner,” says Dabney, “did he see the enemy than he gave
the order to charge with a voice and air whose peremptory determination
was communicated to the whole party. His quick eye estimated aright the
discouragement of the Federals and their wavering temper. Infusing his
own spirit into his men, he struck the hesitating foe at the decisive
moment, and shattered them.”[12] Yet he took no credit to himself. He
declared afterwards to his staff that he had never, in all his
experience of warfare, seen so gallant and effective a charge of
cavalry, and such commendation, coming from his guarded lips, was the
highest honour that his troopers could have wished.
While these events were in progress the remainder of the Confederate
cavalry had also been busy. The 7th Virginia had moved to Buckton. The
railway was torn up, the telegraph line cut, and an urgent message to
Banks for reinforcements was intercepted. The two companies of
Pennsylvania infantry, on picket near the station, occupied a log
storehouse and the embankment. Dismounting his command, Ashby, after a
fierce fight, in which two of his best officers were killed, stormed
the building and drove out the garrison. Two locomotives were standing
on the rails with steam up, and by this means the Federals attempted to
escape. Twice they moved out towards Strasbourg, twice they were driven
back by the Confederate carbines, and eventually the two companies
surrendered.
Jackson’s measures had been carefully thought out. Kenly’s patrols had
failed to discover his advance in the early morning, for at Asbury
Chapel, about three and a half miles south of the Federal outpost line,
he had turned to the right off the Luray road, and plunging into the
woods, had approached Front Royal by a circuitous track, so rough that
the enemy had thought it hardly worth while to watch it. The main body
of the cavalry left the Luray road at McCoy’s Ford, and crossing the
South Fork of the Shenandoah, worked through the forest at the foot of
the Massanuttons. During the night Ashby had withdrawn the 7th
Virginia, with the exception of a few patrols, from in front of Banks,
and joining Jackson, by a rough track across the mountains, before
daybreak, had been directed to cut the communication between Front
Royal and Strasburg. The 6th Virginia had accompanied Jackson, the 2nd,
under Colonel Munford, destroyed the railway bridges eastward of Front
Royal. Had Kenly retreated on Strasburg he would have found Ashby on
his flank. Had reinforcements been despatched from Strasburg they would
have had to deal with Ashby before they could reach Kenly. Had the
Federals attempted to escape by Manassas Gap they would have found
Munford across their path. Meanwhile another party of cavalry had cut
the telegraph between Front Royal and Washington; and a strong
detachment, scouring the country east of the Blue Ridge, checked
Geary’s patrols, and blocked the entrance to the Gap from the direction
of Manassas. Within an hour after his pickets were surprised Kenly was
completely isolated.[13]
A failure in staff duties marred to some extent the Confederate
success. “A vicious usage,” according to Dabney, “obtained at this time
in the Southern armies. This was the custom of temporarily attaching to
the staff of a general commanding a division or an army a company of
cavalry to do the work of orderlies. By this clumsy contrivance the
organisation of the cavalry regiments was broken up, the men detached
were deprived of all opportunity for drill, and the general had no
evidence whatever of their special fitness for the responsible service
confided to them. Nay, the colonel of cavalry required to furnish them
was most likely to select the least serviceable company. At the time of
the combat of Front Royal the duty of orderlies was performed for
General Jackson by a detachment from one of Ashby’s undisciplined
companies, of whom many were raw youths just recruited and never under
fire. As soon as the Federal pickets were driven in, orders were
despatched to the rear brigades to avoid the laborious route taken by
the advance, and to pursue the direct highway to the town, a level
track of three miles, in place of a steep byway of seven or eight. The
panic-struck boy by whom the orders were sent was seen no more. When
Jackson sent orders to the artillery and rear brigades to hurry the
pursuit, instead of being found near at hand, upon the direct road,
they were at length overtaken toiling over the hills of the useless
circuit, spent with the protracted march. Thus night overtook them by
the time they reached the village. This unfortunate incident taught the
necessity of a picked company of orderlies, selected for their
intelligence and courage, permanently attached to headquarters, and
owing no subordination to any other than the general and his staff.
Such was the usage that afterwards prevailed in the Confederate
armies.[14]
General Gordon has described with much minuteness how the news of the
disaster was received at Strasburg. The attack had begun at one
o’clock, but it was not till four that Banks was made aware that his
detachment was in jeopardy. Believing that Jackson was at Harrisonburg,
sixty miles distant, he had certainly no cause for immediate
apprehension. The Valley towards Woodstock never looked more peaceful
than on that sleepy summer afternoon; the sentries dawdled on their
posts, and officers and men alike resigned themselves to its restful
influence. Suddenly a mounted orderly dashed violently through the
camp, and Strasburg was aroused. By the road to Buckton Banks hastily
despatched a regiment and two guns. Then came a lull, and many anxious
inquiries: “What is it? Is it Stonewall Jackson, or only a cavalry
raid?”
A few hours later reports came in from the field of battle, and Banks
telegraphed to Stanton that 5,000 rebels had driven Kenly back on
Middletown. “The force,” he added, “has been gathering in the
mountains, it is said, since Wednesday.”
But still the Federal general showed no undue alarm.
“Nothing was done,” says Gordon, “towards sending away to Winchester
any of the immense quantities of public stores collected at Strasburg;
no movement had been made to place our sick in safety. It did not seem
as if Banks interpreted the attack to signify aught of future or
further movement by the enemy, or that it betokened any purpose to cut
us off from Winchester. I was so fully impressed, however, with
Jackson’s purpose, that as soon as night set in I sought Banks at his
headquarters. I laboured long to impress upon him what I thought a
duty, to wit, his immediate retreat upon Winchester, carrying all his
sick and all his supplies that he could transport, and destroying the
remainder. Notwithstanding all my solicitations and entreaties, he
persistently refused to move, ever repeating, “I must develop the force
of the enemy.”[15]
The force that had been sent out on the Buckton road had been soon
recalled, without securing further information
than that the Confederate pickets were in possession of every road
which led west or north from Front Royal.
Again did Gordon, at the request of Banks’ chief of the staff,
endeavour to persuade the general to abandon Strasburg. “‘It is not a
retreat,’ he urged, ‘but a true military movement to escape from being