Stonewall Jackson and the American Civil War
room in Port Republic, whither the body had been brought, he remained
for a time alone with his old comrade; and in sending an order to his
cavalry, added, “Poor Ashby is dead. He fell gloriously—one of the
noblest men and soldiers in the Confederate army.” A more public
testimony was to come. In his official report he wrote: “The close
relation General Ashby bore to my command for most of the previous
twelve months will justify me in saying that as a partisan officer I
never knew his superior. His daring was proverbial, his powers of
endurance almost incredible, his character heroic, and his sagacity
almost intuitive in divining the purposes and movements of the enemy.”
On the 6th and 7th the Confederate infantry rested on the banks of Mill
Creek, near Cross Keys. The cavalry, on either flank of the
Massanuttons, watched both Frémont’s camps at Harrisonburg and the slow
advance of Shields; and on the southern peak of the mountains a party
of signallers, under a staff officer, looked down upon the roads which
converged on the Confederate position.
June 7 June 7 was passed in unwonted quiet. For the first time for
fifteen days since the storming of Front Royal the boom of the guns was
silent. The glory of the summer brooded undisturbed on hill and forest;
and as the escort which followed Ashby to his grave passed down the
quiet country roads, the Valley lay still and peaceful in the sunshine.
Not a single Federal scout observed the melancholy _cortège._ Frémont’s
pursuit had been roughly checked. He was uncertain in which direction
the main body of the Confederates had retreated; and it was not till
evening that a strong force of infantry, reconnoitring through the
woods, struck Jackson’s outposts near the hamlet of Cross Keys. Only a
few shots were exchanged.
Shields, meanwhile, had concentrated his troops at
Columbia Bridge on the 6th, and presuming that Jackson was standing
fast on the strong position at Rude’s Hill, was preparing to cross the
river. Later in the day a patrol, which had managed to communicate with
Frémont, informed him that Jackson was retreating, and the instructions
he thereupon dispatched to the officer commanding his advanced guard
are worthy of record:
“The enemy passed New Market on the 5th; Blenker’s division on the 6th
in pursuit. The enemy has flung away everything, and their stragglers
fill the mountain. They need only a movement on the flank to
panic-strike them, and break them into fragments. No man has had such a
chance since the war commenced. You are within thirty miles of a
broken, retreating enemy, who still hangs together. 10,000 Germans are
on his rear, who hang on like bull-dogs. You have only to throw
yourself down on Waynesborough before him, and your cavalry will
capture them by the thousands, seize his train and abundant
supplies.”[3]
In anticipation, therefore, of an easy triumph, and, to use his own
words, of “thundering down on Jackson’s rear,” Shields, throwing
precaution to the winds, determined to move as rapidly as possible on
Port Republic. He had written to Frémont urging a combined attack on
“the demoralised rebels,” and he thought that together they “would
finish Jackson.” His only anxiety was that the enemy might escape, and
in his haste he neglected the warning of his Corps commander. McDowell,
on dispatching him in pursuit, had directed his attention to the
importance of keeping his division well closed up. Jackson’s
predilection for dealing with exposed detachments had evidently been
noted. Shields’ force, however, owing to the difficulties of the road,
the mud, the quick-sands, and the swollen streams, was already divided
into several distinct fractions. His advanced brigade was south of
Conrad’s Store; a second was some miles in rear, and two were at Luray,
retained at that point in consequence of a report that 8,000
Confederates were crossing the Blue
Ridge by Thornton’s Gap. To correct this faulty formation before
advancing he thought was not worth while. On the night of June 7 he was
sure of his prey.
The situation at this juncture was as follows: Shields was stretched
out over five-and-twenty miles of road in the valley of the South Fork;
Frémont was at Harrisonburg; Ewell’s division was near Cross Keys, and
the main body of the Valley Army near Port Republic.
During his retreat Jackson had kept his attention fixed on Shields.
That ardent Irishman pictured his old enemy flying in confusion, intent
only on escape. He would have been much astonished had he learned the
truth. From the moment Jackson left Strasburg, during the whole time he
was retreating, with the “bull-dogs” at his heels, he was meditating a
counter-stroke, and his victim had already been selected. When Shields
rushed boldly up the valley of the South Fork it seemed that an
opportunity of avenging Kernstown was about to offer. On June 4, the
day that the enemy reached Luray, Ewell was ordered to provide his men
with two days’ cooked rations and to complete their ammunition “for
active service.” The next day, however, it was found that Shields had
halted. Ewell was ordered to stand fast, and Jackson wrote despondently
to Lee: “At present I do not see that I can do much more than rest my
command and devote its time to drilling.” On the 6th, however, he
learned that Shields’ advanced guard had resumed its march; and, like a
tiger crouching in the jungle, he prepared to spring upon his prey. But
Frémont was close at hand, and Shields and Frémont between them
mustered nearly 25,000 men. They were certainly divided by the
Shenandoah; but they were fast converging on Port Republic; and in a
couple of marches, if not actually within sight of each other’s camps,
they would come within hearing of each other’s guns. Yet,
notwithstanding their numbers, Jackson had determined to deal with them
in detail.
A few miles from the camp at Port Republic was a hill honeycombed with
caverns, known as the Grottoes of the Shenandoah. In the heart of the
limestone Nature has
built herself a palace of many chambers, vast, silent, and magnificent.
But far beyond the beauty of her mysterious halls was the glorious
prospect which lay before the eyes of the Confederate sentries.
Glimmering aisles and dark recesses, where no sunbeam lurks nor summer
wind whispers, compared but ill with those fruitful valleys, watered by
clear brown rivers, and steeped in the glow of a Virginian June. To the
north stood the Massanuttons, with their forests sleeping in the
noon-day; and to the right of the Massanuttons, displaying, in that
transparent atmosphere, every shade of that royal colour from which it
takes its name, the Blue Ridge loomed large against the eastern sky.
Summit after summit, each more delicately pencilled than the last,
receded to the horizon, and beneath their feet, still, dark, and
unbroken as the primeval wilderness, broad leagues of woodland
stretched far away over a lonely land.
No battle-field boasts a fairer setting than Port Republic; but, lover
of Nature as he was, the region was attractive to Jackson for reasons
of a sterner sort. It was eminently adapted for the purpose he had at
heart.
1. The South Fork of the Shenandoah is formed by the junction of two
streams, the North and South Rivers; the village of Port Republic lying
on the peninsula between the two.
2. The bridge crosses the North River just above the junction, carrying
the Harrisonburg road into Port Republic; but the South River, which
cuts off Port Republic from the Luray Valley, is passable only by two
difficult fords.
3. North of the village, on the left bank of the Shenandoah, a line of
high bluffs, covered with scattered timber, completely commands the
tract of open country which lies between the river and the Blue Ridge,
and across this tract ran the road by which Shields was marching.
4. Four miles north-west of Port Republic, near the village of Cross
Keys, the road to Harrisonburg crosses Mill Creek, a strong position
for defence.
By transferring his army across the Shenandoah, and burning the bridge
at Port Republic, Jackson could easily have escaped Frémont, and have
met Shields in the Luray Valley with superior force. But the plain
where the battle must be fought was commanded by the bluffs on the left
bank of the Shenandoah; and should Frémont advance while an engagement
was in progress, even though he could not cross the stream, he might
assail the Confederates in flank with his numerous batteries. In order,
then, to gain time in which to deal with Shields, it was essential that
Frémont should be held back, and this could only be done on the left
bank. Further, if Frémont could be held back until Shields’ force was
annihilated, the former would be isolated. If Jackson could hold the
bridge at Port Republic, and also prevent Frémont reaching the bluffs,
he could recross when he had done with Shields, and fight Frémont
without fear of interruption.
To reverse the order, and to annihilate Frémont before falling upon
Shields, was out of the question. Whether he advanced against Frémont
or whether he stood still to receive his attack, Jackson’s rear and
communications, threatened by Shields, must be protected by a strong
detachment. It would be thus impossible to meet Frémont with superior
or even equal numbers, and an army weaker on the battlefield could not
make certain of decisive victory.
Jackson had determined to check Frémont at Mill Creek. But the
situation was still uncertain. Frémont had halted at Harrisonburg, and
it was possible that he might advance no further. So the Confederates
were divided, ready to meet either adversary; Ewell remaining at Cross
Keys, and the Stonewall division encamping near Port Republic.
June 8 On the morning of June 8, however, it was found that Frémont was
moving. Ewell’s division was already under arms. At 8.30 a.m. his
pickets, about two miles to the front, became engaged, and the
Confederate regiments moved leisurely into position.
The line ran along the crest of a narrow ridge, commanding an open
valley, through which Mill Creek, an insignificant brook, ran parallel
to the front. The further
slopes, open and unobstructed except for scattered trees and a few
fences, rose gently to a lower ridge, about a mile distant. The ground
held by the Confederates was only partially cleared, and from the Port
Republic road in the centre, at a distance of six hundred yards on
either flank, were woods of heavy timber, enclosing the valley, and
jutting out towards the enemy. The ridge beyond the valley was also
thickly wooded; but here, too, there were open spaces on which
batteries might be deployed; and the forest in rear, where Ashby had
been killed, standing on higher ground, completely concealed the
Federal approach. The pickets, however, had given ample warning of the
coming attack; and when, at 10 a.m., the hostile artillery appeared on
the opposite height, it was received with a heavy fire. “Eight and a
half batteries,” says Frémont, “were brought into action within thirty
minutes.” Against this long array of guns the Confederates massed only
five batteries; but these commanded the open ground, and were all in
action from the first.
Ewell had with him no more than three brigades. The Louisiana regiments
had bivouacked near Port Republic, and were not yet up. The whole
strength of the troops which held the ridge was no more than 6,000
infantry, and perhaps 500 cavalry. Frémont had at least 10,000
infantry, twelve batteries, and 2,000 cavalry.
It was then against overwhelming numbers that Ewell was asked to hold
his ground, and the remainder of the army was four miles in rear.
Jackson himself was still absent from the field. The arrangements for
carrying out his ambitious plans had met with an unexpected hitch. In