Stonewall Jackson and the American Civil War
hill. We reached the guns, but they had an infantry support which gave
us a volley; at the same time a battery on our right, which we had not
seen, opened on us, and back we had to come. I moved down the Swamp
about a quarter of a mile, and re-crossed with great difficulty by a
cow-path.”[7]
The artillery did little better than the cavalry. The ground on the
north bank of the Swamp by no means favoured the action of the guns. To
the right of the road the slopes were clear and unobstructed, hut the
crest was within the forest; while to the left a thick pine wood
covered both ridge and valley. On the bank held by the Federals the
ground was open, ascending gently to the ridge; but the edge of the
stream, immediately opposite the cleared ground on the Confederate
right, was covered by a belt of tall trees, in full leaf, which made
observation, by either side, a matter of much difficulty. This belt was
full of infantry, while to the right rear, commanding the ruined
bridge, stood the batteries which had driven back the cavalry.
After some time spent in reconnaissance, it was determined to cut a
track through the wood to the right of the road. This was done, and
thirty-one guns, moving forward simultaneously ready-shotted, opened
fire on the position. The surprise was complete. One of the Federal
batteries dispersed in confusion; the other disappeared, and the
infantry supports fell back. Jackson immediately ordered two guns to
advance down the road, and shell the belt of trees which harboured the
enemy’s skirmishers. These were driven back; the divisions of D. H.
Hill and Whiting were formed up in the pine wood on the left, and a
working party was sent forward to repair the bridge. Suddenly, from the
high ground behind the belt of trees, by which they were completely
screened, two fresh Federal batteries—afterwards increased to
three—opened on the line of Confederate guns. Under cover of this fire
their skirmishers returned to the Swamp, and their main line came
forward to a position whence it commanded the crossing at effective
range. The two guns on the road were sent to the right-about. The
shells of the Federal batteries fell into the stream, and the men who
had been labouring at the bridge ran back and refused to work. The
artillery duel, in which neither side could see the other, but in which
both suffered some loss, continued throughout the afternoon.
Meantime a Confederate regiment, fording the stream, drove in the
hostile skirmishers, and seized the belt of trees; Wright’s brigade, of
Huger’s division, which had joined Jackson as the guns came into
action, was sent back to force a passage at Brackett’s Ford, a mile up
stream; and reconnaissances were pushed out to find some way of turning
the enemy’s position. Every road and track, however, was obstructed by
felled trees and abattis, and it was found that a passage was
impracticable at Brackett’s Ford. Two companies were pushed over the
creek, and drove back the enemy’s pickets. “I discovered,” says Wright,
“that the enemy had destroyed the bridge, and had completely blockaded
the road through the Swamp by felling trees in and across it. . . . I
ascertained that the road debouched from the Swamp into an open field
(meadow), commanded by a line of high hills, all in cultivation and
free from timber. Upon this ridge of hills the enemy had posted heavy
batteries of field-artillery, strongly supported by infantry, which
swept the meadow by a direct and cross fire, and which could be used
with terrible effect upon my column while struggling through the fallen
timber in the wood through the Swamp.”[8]
Having ascertained that the enemy was present in great strength on the
further bank, that every road was obstructed, and that there was no
means of carrying his artillery over the creek, or favourable ground on
which his infantry could act, Jackson gave up all hope of aiding
Longstreet.
That the obstacles which confronted him were serious there can be no
question. His smooth-bore guns, although superior in number, were
unable to beat down the fire of the rifled batteries. The enemy’s
masses were well hidden. The roads were blocked, the stream was
swollen, the banks marshy, and although infantry could cross them, the
fords which had proved difficult for the cavalry would have stopped the
artillery, the ammunition waggons, and the ambulances; while the
Federal position, on the crest of a long open slope, was exceedingly
strong. Jackson, as his report shows, maturely weighed these
difficulties, and came to the conclusion that he could do no good by
sending over his infantry alone. It was essential, it is true, to
detain as many as possible of the enemy on the banks of the Swamp,
while Longstreet, Hill, Huger, and Magruder dealt with the remainder;
and this he fully realised, but it is by no means improbable that he
considered the heavy fire of his guns and the threatening position of
his infantry would have this effect.
It is interesting to note how far this hope, supposing that he
entertained it, was fulfilled. Two divisions of Federal infantry and
three batteries—a total of 22,000 men—defended the passage at White Oak
Bridge against 27,000 Confederates, including Wright; and a detached
force of infantry and guns was posted at Brackett’s Ford.[9] On the
Confederate artillery opening fire, two
brigades were sent up from near Glendale, but when it was found that
this fire was not followed up by an infantry attack, these brigades,
with two others in addition, were sent over to reinforce the troops
which were engaged with Longstreet. When these facts became known; when
it was clear that had Jackson attacked vigorously, the Federals would
hardly have dared to weaken their line along White Oak Swamp, and that,
in these circumstances, Longstreet and A. P. Hill would probably have
seized the Quaker road, his failure to cross the creek exposed him to
criticism. Not only did his brother-generals complain of his inaction,
but Franklin, the Federal commander immediately opposed to him, writing
long afterwards, made the following comments:—
“Jackson seems to have been ignorant of what General Lee expected of
him, and badly informed about Brackett’s Ford. When he found how
strenuous was our defence at the bridge, he should have turned his
attention to Brackett’s Ford also. A force could have been as quietly
gathered there as at the bridge; a strong infantry movement at the ford
would have easily overrun our small force there, placing our right at
Glendale, held by Slocum’s division, in great jeopardy, and turning our
force at the bridge by getting between it and Glendale. In fact, it is
likely that we should have been defeated that day had General Jackson
done what his great reputation seems to make it imperative he should
have done.”[10] But General Franklin’s opinion as to the ease with
which Brackett’s Ford might have been passed is not justified by the
facts. In the first place, General Slocum, who was facing Huger, and
had little to do throughout the day, had two brigades within easy
distance of the crossing; in the second place, General Wright reported
the ford impassable; and in the third place, General Franklin himself
admits that directly Wright’s scouts were seen near the ford two
brigades of Sedgwick’s division were sent to oppose their passage.
General Long, in his life of Lee, finds excuse for Jackson in a story
that he was utterly exhausted, and that
his staff let him sleep until the sun was high. Apart from the
unlikelihood that a man who seems to have done without sleep whenever
the enemy was in front should have permitted himself to be overpowered
at such a crisis, we have Colonel Munford’s evidence that the general
was well in advance of his columns at sunrise, and the regimental
reports show that the troops were roused at 2.30 a.m.
Jackson may well have been exhausted. He had certainly not spared
himself during the operations. On the night of the 27th, after the
battle of Gaines’ Mill, he went over to Stuart’s camp at midnight, and
a long conference took place. At 8.30 on the morning of the 29th he
visited Magruder, riding across Grapevine Bridge from McGehee’s House,
and his start must have been an early one. In a letter to his wife,
dated near the White Oak Bridge, he says that in consequence of the
heavy rain he rose “about midnight” on the 30th. Yet his medical
director, although he noticed that the general fell asleep while he was
eating his supper the same evening, says that he never saw him more
active and energetic than during the engagement;[11] and Jackson
himself, neither in his report nor elsewhere, ever admitted that he was
in any way to blame.
It is difficult to conceive that his scrupulous regard for truth,
displayed in every action of his life, should have yielded in this one
instance to his pride. He was perfectly aware of the necessity of
aiding Longstreet; and if, owing to the obstacles enumerated in his
report, he thought the task impossible, his opinion, as that of a man
who as difficulties accumulated became the more determined to overcome
them, must be regarded with respect. The critics, it is possible, have
forgotten for the moment that the condition of the troops is a factor
of supreme importance in military operations. General D. H. Hill has
told us that “Jackson’s own corps was worn out by long and exhausting
marches, and reduced in numbers by numerous sanguinary battles;”[12]
and he records his conviction that pity for his
troops had much to do with the general’s inaction. Hill would have
probably come nearer the truth if he had said that the tired regiments
were hardly to be trusted in a desperate assault, unsupported by
artillery, on a position which was even stronger than that which they
had stormed with such loss at Gaines’ Mill.
Had Jackson thrown two columns across the fords—which the cavalry,
according to Munford, had not found easy,—and attempted to deploy on
the further bank, it was exceedingly probable that they would have been
driven back with tremendous slaughter. The refusal of the troops to
work at the bridge under fire was in itself a sign that they had little
stomach for hard fighting.
It may be argued that it was Jackson’s duty to sacrifice his command in
order to draw off troops from Glendale. But on such unfavourable ground
the sacrifice would have been worse than useless. The attack
repulsed—and it could hardly have gone otherwise—Franklin, leaving a
small rear-guard to watch the fords, would have been free to turn
nearly his whole strength against Longstreet. It is quite true, as a
tactical principle, that demonstrations, such as Jackson made with his
artillery, are seldom to be relied upon to hold an enemy in position.
When the first alarm has passed off, and the defending general becomes
aware that nothing more than a feint is intended, he will act as did
the Federals, and employ his reserves elsewhere. A vigorous attack is,
almost invariably, the only means of keeping him to his ground. But an
attack which is certain to be repulsed, and to be repulsed in quick
time, is even less effective than a demonstration. It may be the
precursor of a decisive defeat.
But it is not so much for his failure to force the passage at White Oak
Swamp that Jackson has been criticised, as for his failure to march to
Frayser’s Farm on finding that the Federal position was impregnable.
“When, on the forenoon of the 30th,” writes Longstreet, “Jackson found
his way blocked by Franklin, he had time to march to the head of it
(White Oak Swamp), and across to the Charles City road, in season for
the engagement at
Frayser’s Farm [Glendale], the distance being about four miles.”[13]
Without doubt this would have been a judicious course to pursue, but it