Stonewall Jackson and the American Civil War
of the guns, and the shuffle of weary feet. Men fell in the ranks,
overpowered by sleep or faint with hunger, and the
skirmishers, wading through rank fields of wheat and clover, stumbling
into ditches, and climbing painfully over high stone walls, made tardy
progress. Again and again the enemy’s volleys flashed through the
darkness; but still there was no halt, for at the head of the
regiments, peering eagerly into the darkness, their iron-willed
commander still rode forward, as regardless of the sufferings of his
men as of the bullets of the Federal rear-guard, with but one thought
present to his mind—to bring Banks to battle, and so prevent his escape
from Winchester. The student of Napoleon had not forgotten the pregnant
phrase: “Ask me for anything but time!” The indiscipline of Ashby’s
cavalry had already given Banks a respite; and, undisturbed by his
reverses, the Union general had shown himself capable of daring
measures. Had the Confederates halted at Newtown or at Bartonsville,
the troops would doubtless have been fresher for the next day’s work,
but the morning might have seen Banks far on his way to the Potomac, or
possibly strongly reinforced.
When the Confederate infantry had met and overthrown their enemy it
would be time enough to think of food and rest. So long as the men
could stand they were to follow on his traces. “I rode with Jackson,”
says General Taylor, “through the darkness. An officer, riding hard,
overtook us, who proved to be the chief quartermaster of the army. He
reported the waggon trains far behind, impeded by a bad road in the
Luray Valley. ‘The ammunition waggons?’ sternly. ‘All right, sir. They
were in advance, and I doubled teams on them and brought them through.’
‘Ah!’ in a tone of relief.
“To give countenance to the quartermaster, if such can be given on a
dark night, I remarked jocosely, ‘Never mind the waggons. There are
quantities of stores in Winchester, and the general has invited one to
breakfast there tomorrow.’ Jackson took this seriously, and reached out
to touch me on the arm. Without physical wants himself, he forgot that
others were differently constituted, and paid little heed to
commissariat. But woe to the man who failed
to bring up ammunition. In advance his trains were left behind. In
retreat he would fight for a wheelbarrow.”[22]
May 25 At Kernstown, behind Hogg Run, the Federal rear-guard halted for
the last time, but after a short engagement fell back on Winchester. It
was now three o’clock, an hour before dawn, and the Massachusetts men
became aware that the enemy had halted. Their skirmishers still pressed
slowly forward, and an occasional shot flashed out in the darkness. But
that noise which once heard on a still night is never forgotten, the
solid tramp of a heavy column on a hard road, like the dull roar of a
distant cataract, had suddenly died away. As the day broke the
Confederate advanced guard, passing Pritchard’s Hill and Kernstown
battlefield, struck the Federal pickets on Parkin’s Hill. In front was
a brook which goes by the name of Abraham’s Creek; beyond the brook
rose the ridge which covers Winchester, and Jackson at last permitted
his men to rest. The coveted heights were within easy grasp. The
Federal army was still in Winchester, and nothing now remained but to
storm the hills, and drive the enemy in panic from the town.
The Confederates, when the order was given to halt, had dropped where
they stood, and lay sleeping by the roadside. But their commander
permitted himself no repose. For more than an hour, without a cloak to
protect him from the chilling dews, listening to every sound that came
from the front, he stood like a sentinel over the prostrate ranks. As
the dawn rose, in a quiet undertone he gave the word to march. The
order was passed down the column, and, in the dim grey light, the men,
rising from their short slumbers, stiff, cold, and hungry, advanced to
battle.
Jackson had with him on the turnpike, for the most part south of
Kernstown, his own division, supported by the brigades of Scott and
Elzey and by nine batteries. About a mile eastward on the Front Royal
road was Ewell, with Trimble’s brigade and ten guns. This detachment
had moved on Winchester the preceding evening,
driving in the Federal pickets, and had halted within three miles of
the town. During the night Jackson had sent a staff officer with
instructions to Ewell. The message, although the bearer had to ride
nine-and-twenty miles, by Newton and Nineveh, had reached its
destination in good time; and as the Stonewall Brigade moved silently
past Pritchard’s Hill, Trimble’s brigade advanced abreast of it beyond
the intervening woods.
On both the Valley turnpike and the Front Royal road the Federals were
favoured by the ground, and their position, although the two wings were
widely separated, had been skilfully selected. On the turnpike and west
of it was Gordon’s brigade of four regiments, strengthened by eight
guns, and by a strong force of cavalry in reserve. Watching the Front
Royal road was Donnelly’s brigade, also of four regiments, with eight
guns and a few squadrons. The line of defence ran along a broken ridge,
lined in many places with stout stone walls, and protected in front by
the winding reaches of Abraham’s Creek.
Still, strong as was the Federal position, there was little chance of
holding it. Banks had been joined during the night by the larger
portion of his army, and by the garrison of Winchester, but he was
heavily outnumbered. At Front Royal and at Middletown he had lost over
1,500 men; part of his rear-guard had scattered in the mountains, and
it was doubtful if he could now muster more than 6,500 effective
soldiers. In infantry and artillery the Confederates were more than
twice his strength; in cavalry alone were they inferior.
Jackson’s plan of action was simple. His advanced guard was to hold
Gordon in position; and when Ewell fell on Donnelly, a heavy column
would move round Gordon’s right.
5 a.m. The Stonewall regiments led the way. The line of heights, west
of the turnpike and commanding Abraham’s Creek, was occupied by the
Federal outposts, and a general advance of the whole brigade, sweeping
across the brook and up the slopes, quickly drove in the pickets.
But the enemy, whether by skill or good fortune, had
occupied with his main line a position admirably adapted for an
inferior force. Four hundred yards beyond the ridge which the
Confederates had seized rose a second swell of ground; and eight rifled
guns, supported by the 2nd Massachusetts, swept the opposite height at
effective range.
Jackson immediately ordered up three batteries, posting them behind the
crest; and as the sun rose, drawing up the mist from the little stream,
a fierce duel of artillery began the battle.
6.30 a.m. The Confederate gunners, harassed by the enemy’s skirmishers,
and overwhelmed with shells, suffered heavily; one battery was
compelled to retire with a loss of 17 men and 9 horses; a second lost
all its officers; and it was not till near seven o’clock that the
enemy’s eight guns, with their infantry escort, were finally driven
back.
Ewell, meanwhile, had come into action on the right; but the mist was
heavy, and his advanced guard, received with a heavy fire from behind
the stone walls, was driven back with a loss of 80 officers and men.
Then the fog rose heavily, and for nearly an hour the engagement on
this wing died away.
8 a.m. About eight o’clock Ewell’s batteries again came into action,
and Trimble moved round to take the enemy in flank. But Jackson,
meanwhile, was bringing matters to a crisis on the left. The Federals
still held fast in front; but the Louisiana, Taliaferro’s, and Scott’s
brigades, retained hitherto with Elzey in reserve, were now ordered to
turn the enemy’s flank. Moving to the left in rear of the Stonewall
Brigade, these eleven regiments, three forming a second line, faced to
the front and climbed the heights.
General Gordon, in anticipation of such a movement, had already
transferred two regiments to his right. The fire of this force, though
delivered at close range, hardly checked the Confederate onset. Closing
the many gaps, and preserving an alignment that would have been
creditable on parade, Taylor and Taliaferro moved swiftly forward over
rocks and walls. The Federal infantry gave way in great disorder. The
cavalry in support essayed a charge, but the Confederates, as the
squadrons rode boldly
towards them, halted where they stood, and the rolling volleys of the
line of battle drove back the horsemen with many empty saddles. Then,
as Taylor resumed his advance, the Stonewall regiments, with Elzey in
close support, rose suddenly from their covert, and the whole line
swept forward across the ridges. The bright sun of the May morning,
dispersing the mists which veiled the field, shone down upon 10,000
bayonets; and for the first time in the Valley the rebel yell, that
strange fierce cry which heralded the Southern charge, rang high above
the storm of battle.
It was impossible, before so strong an onset, for the Federals to hold
their ground. Infantry, artillery, and cavalry gave way. From east,
west, and south the grey battalions converged on Winchester; and as the
enemy’s columns, covered by the heavy smoke, disappeared into the
streets, Jackson, no longer the imperturbable tactician, moving his
troops like the pieces on a chess-board, but the very personification
of triumphant victory, dashed forward in advance of his old brigade.
Riding recklessly down a rocky slope he raised himself in his stirrups,
and waving his cap in the direction of the retreating foe, shouted to
his officers to “Press forward to the Potomac!” Elzey’s, the reserve
brigade, was ordered to take up the pursuit; and within the town, where
the storehouses had been already fired, the battle was renewed. The
Federal regiments, with the exception of the 2nd Massachusetts, lost
all order in the narrow streets.[23] The roar of battle followed close;
and with the rattle of musketry, the crash of shells, and the loud
cries of the victors speeding their rapid flight, the Northern infantry
dispersed across the fields. As the Confederates passed through the
town, the people of Winchester, frantic with triumph after their two
months of captivity, rushed out from every doorway to meet the troops;
and with weeping and with laughter, with the 341 blessings of women and
the fierce shouts of men, the soldiers of the Valley were urged forward
in hot pursuit.
10 a.m. As they emerged from the town, and looked down upon the open
pastures through which the Martinsburg turnpike runs, they saw the
country before them covered with crowds of fugitives. Jackson, still in
advance, turned round to seek his cavalry. From the head of every
street eager columns of infantry were pouring, and, deploying without
waiting orders, were pushing hastily across the fields. But not a
squadron was in sight. Ashby, with the handful of men that still
remained with him, had ridden to Berryville, expecting that the enemy
would attempt to escape by Snicker’s Gap. Steuart, with the two
regiments that had done such service at Front Royal, was with Ewell and
Trimble; but although Donnelly’s regiments could be seen retiring in
good order, they were not followed by a single sabre.
Despatching an aide-de-camp to order Steuart to the front, Jackson
called up his batteries. The infantry, too, was hurried forward, in
order to prevent the Federals rallying. But after a rapid march of two
hours the interval between the Confederates and the enemy was still
increasing; and it was evident that without cavalry it was useless to