Stonewall Jackson and the American Civil War
Cold Harbour. They will then press forward towards the York River
Railroad, closing upon the enemy’s rear, and forcing him down the
Chickahominy. An advance of the enemy towards Richmond will be
prevented by vigorously following his rear, and crippling and arresting
his progress.
“II.—The divisions under Generals Huger and Magruder will hold their
position in front of the enemy against attack, and make such
demonstrations, Thursday, as to discover his operations. Should
opportunity offer, the feint will be converted into a real attack. . .
.
“III.—General Stuart, with the 1st, 4th, and 9th Virginia Cavalry, the
cavalry of Cobb’s Legion, and the Jeff Davis Legion, will cross the
Chickahominy to-morrow (Wednesday, June 25), and take position to the
left of General Jackson’s line of march. The main body will be held in
reserve, with scouts well extended to the front and left. General
Stuart will keep General Jackson informed of the movements of the enemy
on his left, and will cooperate with him in his advance. . . .”
June 25 On the 25th Longstreet and the two Hills moved towards the
bridges; and although during the movement McClellan drove back
Magruder’s pickets to their trenches, and pushed his own outposts
nearer Richmond, Lee held firmly to his purpose. As a matter of fact,
there was little to be feared from McClellan. With a profound belief in
the advantages of defensive and in the strength of a fortified
position, he expected nothing less than that the Confederates would
leave the earthworks they had so laboriously constructed, and
deliberately risk the perils of an attack. He seems to have had little
idea that in the hands of a skilful general intrenchments may form a
“pivot of operations,’[12] the means whereby he covers his most
vulnerable point, holds the enemy in front, and sets his main body free
for offensive action. Yet
McClellan was by no means easy in his mind. He knew Jackson was
approaching. He knew his communications were threatened. Fugitive
negroes, who, as usual, either exaggerated or lied, had informed him
that the Confederates had been largely reinforced, and that Beauregard,
with a portion of the Western army, had arrived in Richmond. But that
his right wing was in danger he had not the faintest suspicion. He
judged Lee by himself. Such a plan as leaving a small force to defend
Richmond, and transferring the bulk of the army to join Jackson, he
would have at once rejected as over-daring. If attack came at all, he
expected that it would come by the south bank; and he was so far from
anticipating that an opportunity for offensive action might be offered
to himself that, on the night of the 25th, he sent word to his corps
commanders that they were to regard their intrenchments as “the true
field of battle.”[13]
June 26. 3 a.m. Lee’s orders left much to Jackson. The whole operation
which Lee had planned hinged upon his movements. On the morning of the
24th he was at Beaver Dam Station. The same night he was to reach
Ashland, eighteen miles distant as the crow flies. On the night of the
25th he was to halt near the Slash Church, just west of the Virginia
Central Railway, and six miles east of Ashland. At three o’clock,
however, on the morning of the 26th, the Army of the Valley was still
at Ashland, and it was not till nine that it crossed the railroad.
10.30 a.m. Branch, on hearing that Jackson was at last advancing,
passed the Chickahominy by Winston’s Bridge, and driving Federal
pickets before him, moved on Mechanicsville. General A. P. Hill was
meanwhile near Meadow Bridge, waiting until the advance of Jackson and
Branch should turn the flank of the Federal force which blocked his
passage.
3 p.m. At 3 p.m., hearing nothing from his colleagues, and apprehensive
that longer delay might hazard the failure of the whole plan, he
ordered his advanced guard to seize the bridge. The enemy, already
threatened in rear by Branch, at once fell back. Hill followed
the retiring pickets towards Beaver Dam Creek, and after a short march
of three miles found himself under fire of the Federal artillery.
Porter had occupied a position about two miles above New Bridge.
The rest of the Confederate army was already crossing the Chickahominy;
and although there was no sign of Jackson, and the enemy’s front was
strong, protected by a long line of batteries, Hill thought it
necessary to order an attack. A message from Lee, ordering him to
postpone all further movement, arrived too late.[14] There was no
artillery preparation, and the troops, checked unexpectedly by a wide
abattis, were repulsed with terrible slaughter, the casualties
amounting to nearly 2,000 men.[15] The Union loss was 360.[16]
4.30 p.m. Jackson, about 4.30 p.m., before this engagement had begun,
had reached Hundley’s Corner, three miles north of the Federal
position, but separated from it by dense forest and the windings of the
creek. On the opposite bank was a detachment of Federal infantry,
supported by artillery.
6 p.m. Two guns, accompanied by the advanced guard, sufficed to drive
this force to the shelter of the woods; and then, establishing his
outposts, Jackson ordered his troops to bivouac.
It has been asserted by more than one Southern general that the
disaster at Beaver Dam Creek was due to Jackson’s indifferent tactics;
and, at first sight, the bare facts would seem to justify the verdict.
He had not reached his appointed station on the night of the 25th, and
on the 26th he was five hours behind time. He should have crossed the
Virginia Central Railway at sunrise, but at nine o’clock he was still
three miles distant. His advance against the Federal right flank and
rear should have been made in co-operation with the remainder of the
army. But his whereabouts was unknown when Hill attacked; and although
the cannonade was distinctly heard at Hundley’s Corner, he made no
effort to lend assistance, and his troops were encamping when their
comrades, not three miles
away, were rushing forward to the assault. There would seem to be some
grounds, then, for the accusation that his delay thwarted General Lee’s
design; some reason for the belief that the victor of the Valley
campaign, on his first appearance in combination with the main army,
had proved a failure, and that his failure was in those very qualities
of swiftness and energy to which he owed his fame.
General D. H. Hill has written that “Jackson’s genius never shone when
he was under the command of another. It seemed then to be shrouded or
paralysed. . . . MacGregor on his native heath was not more different
from MacGregor in prison than was Jackson his own master from Jackson
in a subordinate position. This was the keynote to his whole character.
The hooded falcon cannot strike the quarry.”[17]
The reader who has the heart to follow this chronicle to the end will
assuredly find reason to doubt the acumen, however he may admire the
eloquence, of Jackson’s brother-in-law. When he reads of the Second
Manassas, of Harper’s Ferry, of Sharpsburg and of Chancellorsville, he
will recall this statement with astonishment; and it will not be
difficult to show that Jackson conformed as closely to the plans of his
commander at Mechanicsville as elsewhere.
The machinery of war seldom runs with the smoothness of clockwork. The
course of circumstances can never be exactly predicted. Unforeseen
obstacles may render the highest skill and the most untiring energy of
no avail; and it may be well to point out that the task which was
assigned to Jackson was one of exceeding difficulty. In the first
place, his march of eight-and-twenty miles, from Frederickshall to
Ashland, on June 23, 24, and 25, was made over an unmapped country,
unknown either to himself or to his staff, which had lately been in
occupation of the Federals. Bridges had been destroyed and roads
obstructed. The Valley army had already marched far and fast; and
although Dabney hints that inexperienced and sluggish subordinates were
the chief cause of delay,
there is hardly need to look so far for excuse.[18] The march from
Ashland to Hundley’s Corner, sixteen miles, was little less difficult.
It was made in two columns, Whiting and the Stonewall division, now
under Winder, crossing the railway near Merry Oaks Church, Ewell moving
by Shady Grove Church, but this distribution did not accelerate the
march. The midsummer sun blazed fiercely down on the dusty roads; the
dense woods on either hand shut out the air, and interruptions were
frequent. The Federal cavalry held a line from Atlee’s Station to near
Hanover Court House. The 8th Illinois, over 700 strong, picketed all
the woods between the Chickahominy and the Totopotomoy Creek. Two other
regiments prolonged the front to the Pamunkey, and near Hundley’s
Corner and Old Church were posted detachments of infantry. Skirmishing
was constant. The Federal outposts contested every favourable position.
Here and there the roads were obstructed by felled trees; a burned
bridge over the Totopotomoy delayed the advance for a full hour, and it
was some time before the enemy’s force at Hundley’s Corner was driven
behind Beaver Dam Creek.
At the council of war, held on the 23rd, Lee had left it to Jackson to
fix the date on which the operation against the Federal right should
begin, and on the latter deciding on the 26th, Longstreet had suggested
that he should make more ample allowance for the difficulties that
might be presented by the country and by the enemy, and give himself
more time.[19] Jackson had not seen fit to alter his decision, and it
is hard to say that he was wrong.
Had McClellan received notice that the Valley army was approaching, a
day’s delay would have given him a fine opportunity. More than one
course would have been open to him. He might have constructed
formidable intrenchments on the north bank of the Chickahominy and
have brought over large reinforcements of men and guns; or he might
have turned the tables by a bold advance on Richmond. It was by no
means inconceivable that if he detected Lee’s intention and was given
time to prepare, he might permit the Confederates to cross the
Chickahominy, amuse them there with a small force, and hurl the rest of
his army on the works which covered the Southern capital. It is true
that his caution was extreme, and to a mind which was more occupied
with counting the enemy’s strength than with watching for an
opportunity, the possibility of assuming the offensive was not likely
to occur. But, timid as he might be when no enemy was in sight,
McClellan was constitutionally brave; and when the chimeras raised by
an over-active imagination proved to be substantial dangers, he was
quite capable of daring resolution. Time, therefore, was of the utmost
importance to the Confederates. It was essential that Porter should be
overwhelmed before McClellan realised the danger; and if Jackson, in
fixing a date for the attack which would put a heavy tax on the
marching powers of his men, already strained to the utmost, ran some
risks, from a strategical point of view those risks were fully
justified.
In the second place, an operation such as that which Lee had devised is
one of the most difficult manœuvres which an army can be called upon to
execute. According to Moltke, to unite two forces on the battle-field,
starting at some distance apart, at the right moment, is the most
brilliant feat of generalship. The slightest hesitation may ruin the
combination. Haste is even more to be dreaded. There is always the
danger that one wing may attack, or be attacked, while the other is
still far distant, and either contingency may be fatal. The Valley
campaign furnishes more than one illustration. In their pursuit of
Jackson, Shields and Fremont failed to co-operate at Strasburg, at