Stonewall Jackson and the American Civil War
Frémont had retired from Port Republic on the morning of the 10th. On
the 11th the Confederate cavalry, now under Colonel Munford, a worthy
successor of the indefatigable Ashby, crossed the Shenandoah, and
followed the retreating enemy. So active was the pursuit that Frémont
evacuated Harrisonburg, abandoning two hundred wounded
in the hospitals, besides medical and other stores.
June 14 “Significant demonstrations of the enemy,” to use his own
words, drove him next day from the strong position at Mount Jackson;
and on June 14 he fell back to Strasburg, Banks, who had advanced to
Middletown, being in close support.
On the 12th the Army of the Valley had once more moved westward, and,
crossing South River, had encamped in the woods near Mount Meridian.
Here for five days, by the sparkling waters of the Shenandoah, the
wearied soldiers rested, while their indefatigable leader employed ruse
after ruse to delude the enemy. The cavalry, though far from support,
was ordered to manœuvre boldly to prevent all information reaching the
Federals, and to follow Frémont so long as he retreated.[18] The
bearers of flags of truce were impressed with the idea that the
Southerners were advancing in great strength. The outpost line was made
as close as possible; no civilians were allowed to pass; and the
troopers, so that they should have nothing to tell it they were
captured, were kept in ignorance of the position of their own infantry.
The general’s real intentions were concealed from everyone except
Colonel Munford. The officers of the staff fared worse than the
remainder of the army. Not only were they debarred from their
commander’s confidence, but they became the unconscious instruments
whereby false intelligence was spread. “The engineers were directed to
prepare a series of maps of the Valley; and all who acquired a
knowledge of this carefully divulged order told their friends in
confidence that Jackson was going at once in pursuit of Frémont. As
those friends told their friends without loss of time, it was soon the
well-settled conviction of everybody that nothing was further from
Jackson’s intention than an evacuation of the Valley.”
June 17 On June 17 arrived a last letter from Lee:—
“From your account of the position of the enemy I think it would be
difficult for you to engage him in time to unite with this army in the
battle for Richmond. Frémont
and Shields are apparently retrograding, their troops shaken and
disorganised, and some time will be required to set them again in the
field. If this is so, the sooner you unite with this army the better.
McClellan is being strengthened. . . . There is much sickness in his
ranks, but his reinforcements by far exceed his losses. The present,
therefore, seems to be favourable for a junction of your army and this.
If you agree with me, the sooner you can make arrangements to do so the
better. In moving your troops you could let it be understood that it
was to pursue the enemy in your front. Dispose those to hold the
Valley, so as to deceive the enemy, keeping your cavalry well in their
front, and at the proper time suddenly descending upon the Pamunkey. To
be efficacious the movement must be secret. Let me know the force you
can bring, and be careful to guard from friends and foes your purpose
and your intention of personally leaving the Valley. The country is
full of spies, and our plans are immediately carried to the enemy.”[19]
The greater part of these instructions Jackson had already carried out
on his own initiative. There remained but to give final directions to
Colonel Munford, who was to hold the Valley, and to set the army in
motion. Munford was instructed to do his best to spread false reports
of an advance to the Potomac. Ewell’s division was ordered to
Charlottesville. The rest of the Valley troops were to follow Ewell;
and Whiting and Lawton, who, in order to bewilder Frémont, had been
marched from Staunton to Mount Meridian, and then back to Staunton,
were to take train to Gordonsville. It was above all things important
that the march should be secret. Not only was it essential that Lincoln
should not be alarmed into reinforcing McClellan, but it was of even
more importance that McClellan should not be alarmed into correcting
the faulty distribution of his army. So long as he remained with half
his force on one bank of the Chickahominy and half on the other, Lee
had a fair chance of concentrating superior numbers against one of the
fractions. But if McClellan, warned of Jackson’s
approach, were to mass his whole force on one bank or the other, there
would be little hope of success for the Confederates.
The ultimate object of the movement was therefore revealed to no one,
and the most rigorous precautions were adopted to conceal it. Jackson’s
letters from Richmond, in accordance with his own instructions, bore no
more explicit address than “Somewhere.” A long line of cavalry,
occupying every road, covered the front, and prevented anyone, soldier
or civilian, preceding them toward Richmond. Far out to either flank
rode patrols of horsemen, and a strong rear-guard swept before it
campfollowers and stragglers. At night, every road which approached the
bivouacs was strongly picketed, and the troops were prevented from
communicating with the country people. The men were forbidden to ask
the names of the villages through which they passed; and it was ordered
that to all questions they should make the one answer: “I don’t know.”
“This was just as much license as the men wanted,” says an eye-witness,
“and they forthwith knew nothing of the past, present, or future.” An
amusing incident, it is said, grew out of this order. One of General
Hood’s[20] Texans left the ranks on the march, and was climbing a fence
to go to a cherry-tree near at hand, when Jackson rode by and saw him.
“Where are you going?” asked the general.
“I don’t know,” replied the soldier.
“To what command do you belong?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, what State are you from?”
“I don’t know.”
“What is the meaning of all this?” asked Jackson of another.
“Well,” was the reply, “Old Stonewall and General Hood gave orders
yesterday that we were not to know anything until after the next
fight.”
Jackson laughed and rode on.[21]
The men themselves, intelligent as they were, were
unable to penetrate their general’s design. When they reached
Charlottesville it was reported in the ranks that the next march would
be northwards, to check a movement of Banks across the Blue Ridge. At
Gordonsville it was supposed that they would move on Washington.
“I recollect,” says one of the Valley soldiers, “that the pastor of the
Presbyterian church there, with whom Jackson spent the night, told me,
as a profound secret, not to be breathed to mortal man, that we would
move at daybreak on Culpeper Court House to intercept a column of the
enemy coming across the mountains. He said there could be no mistake
about this, for he had it from General Jackson himself. We did move at
daybreak, but instead of moving on Culpeper Court House we marched in
the opposite direction. At Hanover Junction we expected to head towards
Fredericksburg to meet McDowell, and the whole movement was so secretly
conducted that the troops were uncertain of their destination until the
evening of June 26, when they heard A. P. Hill’s guns at
Mechanicsville, and made the woods vibrate with their shouts of
anticipated victory.”[22]
At Gordonsville a rumour, which proved to be false, arrested the march
of the army for a whole day. On the 21st the leading division arrived
at Frederickshall, fifty miles from Richmond, and there halted for the
Sunday. They had already marched fifty miles, and the main body,
although the railway had been of much service, was still distant. There
was not sufficient rolling stock available to transport all the
infantry simultaneously, and, in any case, the cavalry, artillery, and
waggons must have proceeded by road. The trains, therefore, moving
backwards and forwards along the line, and taking up the rear brigades
in succession, forwarded them in a couple of hours a whole day’s march.
Beyond Frederickshall the line had been destroyed by the enemy’s
cavalry.
June 28 At 1 a.m. on Monday morning, Jackson, accompanied by a single
orderly, rode to confer with Lee, near Richmond. He was provided with a
pass, which Major Dabney had
been instructed to procure from General Whiting, the next in command,
authorising him to impress horses; and he had resorted to other
expedients to blind his friends. The lady of the house which he had
made his headquarters at Frederickshall had sent to ask if the general
would breakfast with her next morning. He replied that he would be glad
to do so if he were there at breakfast time; and upon her inquiry as to
the time that would be most convenient, he said: “Have it at your usual
time, and send for me when it is ready.” When Mrs. Harris sent for him,
Jim, his coloured servant, replied to the message: “Sh! you don’t
’spec’ to find the general here at this hour, do you? He left here
‘bout midnight, and I ’spec’ by this time he’s whippin’ Banks in the
Valley.”
During the journey his determination to preserve his incognito was the
cause of some embarrassment. A few miles from his quarters he was
halted by a sentry. It was in vain that he represented that he was an
officer on duty, carrying dispatches. The sentry, one of the Stonewall
Brigade, was inexorable, and quoted Jackson’s own orders. The utmost
that he would concede was that the commander of the picket should be
called. When this officer came he recognised his general. Jackson bound
them both to secrecy, and praising the soldier for his obedience,
continued his ride. Some hours later his horse broke down. Proceeding
to a plantation near the road, he told his orderly to request that a
couple of horses might be supplied for an officer on important duty. It
was still dark, and the indignant proprietor, so unceremoniously
disturbed by two unknown soldiers, who declined to give their names,
refused all aid. After some parley Jackson and his orderly, finding
argument wasted, proceeded to the stables, selected the two best
horses, shifted the saddles, and left their own chargers as a temporary
exchange.
At three o’clock in the afternoon, after passing rapidly through
Richmond, he reached the headquarters of the Commander-in-Chief. It is
unfortunate that no record of the meeting that took place has been
preserved. There
were present, besides Lee and Jackson, the three officers whose
divisions were to be employed in the attack upon the Federals,
Longstreet, A. P. Hill, and D. H. Hill. The names of the two former are
associated with almost every Confederate victory won upon the soil of
Virginia. They were trusted by their great leader, and they were
idolised by their men. Like others, they made mistakes; the one was
sometimes slow, the other careless; neither gave the slightest sign
that they were capable of independent command, and both were at times
impatient of control. But, taking them all in all, they were gallant
soldiers, brave to a fault, vigorous in attack, and undaunted by
adverse fortune. Longstreet, sturdy and sedate, his “old war-horse” as
Lee affectionately called him, bore on his broad shoulders the weight
of twenty years’ service in the old army. Hill’s slight figure and
delicate features, instinct with life and energy, were a marked
contrast to the heavier frame and rugged lineaments of his older
colleague.
Already they were distinguished. In the hottest of the fight they had
won the respect that soldiers so readily accord to valour; yet it is
not on these stubborn fighters, not on their companion, less popular,
but hardly less capable, that the eye of imagination rests. Were some