Stonewall Jackson and the American Civil War
batteries, after a fierce fight, to limber up, routed a brigade which
had been sent by Frémont to support the attack, and pressing slowly but
continuously forward, threw the whole of the enemy’s left wing,
consisting of Blenker’s eleven regiments, back to the shelter of his
line of guns. Trimble had drawn the “bulldog’s” teeth.
The Confederates had reached the outskirts of the wood. They were a
mile in advance of the batteries in the centre; and the Federal
position, commanding a tract of open ground, was strong in itself and
strongly held. A general counterstroke was outside the scope of
Jackson’s designs. He had still Shields to deal with. The Federal left
wing had been heavily repulsed, but only a portion of Frémont’s force
had been engaged; to press the attack further would undoubtedly have
cost many lives, and even a partial reverse would have interfered with
his comprehensive plan.
In other quarters of the battle-field the fighting had been
unimportant. The Confederate guns, although heavily outnumbered, held
their ground gallantly for more than five hours; and when they
eventually retired it was from want of ammunition rather than from loss
of _moral._ The waggons which carried their reserve had taken a wrong
road, and at the critical moment there were no
means of replenishing the supply. But so timid were Frémont’s tactics
that the blunder passed unpunished. While the battle on the left was
raging fiercely he had contented himself elsewhere with tapping feebly
at the enemy’s lines. In the centre of the field his skirmishers moved
against Ewell’s batteries, but were routed by a bayonet charge; on the
right, Milroy and Schenck, the two generals who had withstood Jackson
so stubbornly at McDowell, advanced on their own initiative through the
woods. They had driven in the Confederate skirmishers, and had induced
Ewell to strengthen this portion of his line from his reserve, when
they were recalled by Frémont, alarmed by Trimble’s vigorous attack, to
defend the main position.
The Southerners followed slowly. The day was late, and Ewell, although
his troops were eager to crown their victory, was too cool a soldier to
yield to their impatience; and, as at Cedar Creek, where also he had
driven back the “Dutch” division, so at Cross Keys he rendered the most
loyal support to his commander. Yet he was a dashing fighter, chafing
under the restraint of command, and preferring the excitement of the
foremost line. “On two occasions in the Valley,” says General Taylor,
“during the temporary absence of Jackson, he summoned me to his side,
and immediately rushed forward amongst the skirmishers, where sharp
work was going on. Having refreshed himself, he returned with the hope
that “Old Jack would not catch him at it.”[7]
How thoroughly Jackson trusted his subordinate may be inferred from the
fact that, although present on the field, he left Ewell to fight his
own battle. The only instructions he gave showed that he had fathomed
the temper of Frémont’s troops. “Let the Federals,” he said, “get very
close before your infantry fire; they won’t stand long.” It was to
Ewell’s dispositions, his wise use of his reserves, and to Trimble’s
ready initiative, that Frémont’s defeat was due. Beyond sending up a
couple of brigades from Port Republic, Jackson gave no orders. His
ambition was of too lofty a
kind to appropriate the honours which another might fairly claim; and,
when once battle had been joined, interference with the plan on which
it was being fought did not commend itself to him as sound generalship.
He was not one of those suspicious commanders who believe that no
subordinate can act intelligently. If he demanded the strictest
compliance with his instructions, he was always content to leave their
execution to the judgment of his generals; and with supreme confidence
in his own capacity, he was still sensible that his juniors in rank
might be just as able. His supervision was constant, but his
interference rare; and it was not till some palpable mistake had been
committed that he assumed direct control of his divisions or brigades.
Nor was any peculiar skill needed to beat back the attack of Frémont.
Nothing proves the Federal leader’s want of confidence more clearly
than the tale of losses. The Confederate casualties amounted to 288, of
which nearly half occurred in Trimble’s counterstroke. The Federal
reports show 684 killed, wounded, and missing, and of these Trimble’s
riflemen accounted for nearly 500, one regiment, the 8th New York,
being almost annihilated; but such losses, although at one point
severe, were altogether insignificant when compared with the total
strength; and it was not the troops who were defeated but the
general.[8]
Ewell’s division bivouacked within sight of the enemy’s watch-fires,
and within hearing of his outposts; and throughout the night the work
of removing the wounded, friend and foe alike, went on in the sombre
woods. There was work, too, at Port Republic. Jackson, while his men
slept, was all activity. His plans were succeeding admirably. From
Frémont, cowering on the defensive before inferior numbers, there was
little to be feared. It was unlikely that after his repulse he would be
found more enterprising on the morrow; a small force would be
sufficient to arrest his march until Shields had been crushed; and
then, swinging back across the Shenandoah,
the soldiers of the Valley would find ample compensation, in the rout
of their most powerful foe, for the enforced rapidity of their retreat
from Winchester. But to fight two battles in one day, to disappear
completely from Frémont’s ken, and to recross the rivers before he had
time to seize the bridge, were manœuvres of the utmost delicacy, and
needed most careful preparation.
It was Jackson’s custom, whenever a subordinate was to be entrusted
with an independent mission, to explain the part that he was to play in
a personal interview. By such means he made certain, first, that his
instructions were thoroughly understood; and, second, that there was no
chance of their purport coming to the knowledge of the enemy. Ewell was
first summoned to headquarters, and then Patton, whose brigade,
together with that of Trimble, was to have the task of checking Frémont
the next day. “I found him at 2 a.m.,” says Patton, “actively engaged
in making his dispositions for battle. He immediately proceeded to give
me particular instructions as to the management of the men in covering
the rear, saying: ‘I wish you to throw out all your men, if necessary,
as skirmishers, and to make a great show, so as to cause the enemy to
think the whole army are behind you. Hold your position as well as you
can, then fall back when obliged; take a new position, hold it in the
same way, and I will be back to join you in the morning.’”
Colonel Patton reminded him that his brigade was a small one, and that
the country between Cross Keys and the Shenandoah offered few
advantages for protracting such manœuvres. He desired, therefore, to
know for how long he would be expected to hold the enemy in check.
Jackson replied, “By the blessing of Providence, I hope to be back by
ten o’clock.”[9]
These interviews were not the only business which occupied the
commanding general. He arranged for the feeding of his troops before
their march next day,[10] for the
dispositions of his trains and ammunition waggons; and at the rising of
the moon, which occurred about midnight, he was seen on the banks of
the South River, superintending the construction of a bridge to carry
his infantry dryshod across the stream.
An hour before daybreak he was roused from his short slumbers. Major
Imboden, who was in charge of a mule battery,[11] looking for one of
the staff, entered by mistake the general’s room.
“I opened the door softly, and discovered Jackson lying on his face
across the bed, fully dressed, with sword, sash, and boots all on. The
low-burnt tallow-candle on the table shed a dim light, yet enough by
which to recognise him. I endeavoured to withdraw without waking him.
He turned over, sat upon the bed, and called out, ‘Who is that?’
“He checked my apology with, ‘That is all right. It’s time to be up. I
am glad to see you. Were the men all up as you came through camp?’
“‘Yes, General, and cooking.’
“‘That’s right; we move at daybreak. Sit down. I want to talk to you.’
“I had learned never to ask him questions about his plans, for he would
never answer such to anyone. I therefore waited for him to speak first.
He referred very feelingly to Ashby’s death, and spoke of it as an
irreparable loss. When he paused I said, ‘General, you made a glorious
winding-up of your four weeks with yesterday.’ He replied, ‘Yes, God
blessed our army again yesterday, and I hope with His protection and
blessing we shall do still better to-day.’”[12] Then followed
instructions as to the use of the mule battery in the forests through
which lay Shields’ line of advance.
Before 5 a.m. the next morning the Stonewall Brigade
had assembled in Port Republic, and was immediately ordered to advance.
On the plain beyond, still dark in the shadow of the mountains, where
the cavalry formed the outposts, the fire of the pickets, which had
been incessant throughout the night, was increasing in intensity. The
Federals were making ready for battle.
Winder had with him four regiments, about 1,200 strong, and two
batteries. In rear came Taylor with his Louisianians; and Jackson,
leaving Major Dabney to superintend the passage of the river, rode with
the leading brigade. The enemy’s pickets were encountered about a mile
and a half down the river, beyond a strip of woods, on either side of
the Luray road. They were quickly driven in, and the Federal position
became revealed. From the foot-hills of the Blue Ridge, clothed to
their crests with under-growth and timber, the plain, over a mile in
breadth, extended to the Shenandoah. The ground was terraced; the upper
level, immediately beneath the mountain, was densely wooded, and fifty
or sixty feet above the open fields round the Lewis House. Here was the
hostile front. The Federal force was composed of two brigades of
infantry and sixteen guns, not more than 4,000 all told, for Shields,
with the remainder of the division, was still far in rear. The right
rested on the river; the left on a ravine of the upper level, through
which a shallow stream flowed down from the heights above. On the
northern shoulder of this ravine was established a battery of seven
guns, sweeping every yard of the ground beneath, and a country road,
which led directly to the Shenandoah, running between stiff banks and
strongly fenced, was lined with riflemen. Part of the artillery was on
the plain, near the Lewis House, with a section near the river; on the
hillside, beyond the seven guns, two regiments were concealed within
the forest, and in rear of the battery was a third. The position was
strong, and the men who held it were of different calibre from
Blenker’s Germans, and the leaders of stauncher stuff than Frémont. Six
of the seven battalions had fought at Kernstown. Tyler, who on that day
had seen the Confederates retreat before him, was in
command; and neither general nor soldiers had reason to dread the name
of Stonewall Jackson. In the sturdy battalions of Ohio and West
Virginia the Stonewall Brigade were face to face with foemen worthy of
their steel; and when Jackson, anxious to get back to Frémont, ordered
Winder to attack, he set him a formidable task.
It was first necessary to dislodge the hostile guns. Winder’s two
batteries were insufficient for the work, and two of his four regiments
were ordered into the woods on the terrace, in order to outflank the
battery beyond the stream. This detachment, moving with difficulty