v1.1.2 / chapter 20 of 93 / 01 oct 09 / greg goebel / public domain
* With Robert E. Lee's rise to command of Confederate forces around Richmond, Southern fortunes started to take a surprising turn for the better. On the James River Peninsula, Lee's cavalry commander, Jeb Stuart, performed a daring cavalry raid around McClellan's army to probe it for weak points. The raid was a wild success that embarrassed the Federals, overjoyed the Confederates, and gave Lee vital information on the vulnerabilities of the enemy force. To the northwest, Stonewall Jackson completed his brilliant campaign in the Shenandoah Valley by evading and confounding Federal forces that were moving to box him in. With the daring and skill shown by Confederate generals like Stuart and Jackson, the South might not be defeated so easily after all.
* The selection of Robert Edmund Lee to defend Richmond against McClellan's Federal juggernaut was not greeted with much enthusiasm. Joe Johnston had widespread prestige, while Lee was only known by his involvement in the fiasco in western Virginia the year before, and his after-the-fact defense of the Carolina coast, which had earned him nicknames like "Granny Lee", "Evacuating Lee", and "King of Spades". Even his adversary, General George McClellan, who had known Lee during the Mexican War, had a low opinion of him, writing: "I prefer Lee to Johnston. The former is too cautious and weak under grave responsibility -- personally brave and energetic to a fault, he yet is wanting in moral firmness when pressed by heavy responsibility and is likely to be timid and irresolute in action."
Such a judgement seemed reasonable given Lee's combat record so far, but that evidence was highly misleading. Lee had graduated second in his class at West Point in 1829, had shown considerable dash and brilliance during the Mexican War, and at the outbreak of the war had been regarded as one of the most promising officers in the Army. Confederate leadership knew that Lee had been given impossible assignments and that he had done as well as he could with them. Socially-conscious Southerners could take comfort in Lee's prestigious lineage: one of his ancestors had fought alongside William the Conquerer, another had been a crusader, a third had been knighted by Queen Elizabeth, and his father was the gallant cavalry officer of the Revolutionary War, Henry "Light-Horse Harry" Lee. Robert E. Lee was married to Mary Custis, who traced her ancestry back to George Washington's wife, Martha Custis, though not to Washington himself.
There was more to Robert E. Lee than a fancy family tree, however. Light-Horse Harry had been dashing in war, but unable to deal with the plodding necessities of working for a living. He went through several fortunes, and on his death left Robert as the head of a household in tight circumstances, handing him serious responsibilities at an early age. His class consciousness did not manifest itself as snobbery, but rather as a sense of responsibility, self-assurance, and decorum. To strangers he was "cold and quiet and grand", but to family and intimates he was an affectionate and lively man.
He was anything but irresolute. A Confederate officer said of him: "His name might be Audacity. He will take more desperate chances, and take them quicker, than any other general in this country, North or South; and you will live to see it, too." Lee had a strong sense of purpose, as all those around him knew, and on rare occasions knew as well the explosive rage that cracked through the surface of his decorum. Joe Johnston knew well enough that his wound was actually a stroke of luck for the Confederacy; when someone suggested to Johnston that his injury was a misfortune for the cause, Johnston shot back. "No, sir! The shot that struck me down is the very best that has been fired for the Southern cause yet. For I possess in no degree the confidence of our government, and now they have in my place one who does possess it, and who can accomplish what I never could have done -- the concentration of our armies for the defense of the capital of the Confederacy."
General Lee kept in constant touch with Jefferson Davis, while Johnston had not. In fact, in one of his first messages Lee apologized with studied subordination for troubling Davis with minor administrative issues: "I thought you ought to know it. Our position requires that you know everything and you must excuse my troubling you." Davis was far from troubled by it. Warmth was unfamiliar and pleasant for such a cold man, and Lee knew it. A lack of political backing was not going to be a problem for Lee, since when Davis gave a man his support, he gave it with few restrictions.
Under Lee's leadership, the different commands that had been passed to him would in time be welded into a great fighting force: the Army of Northern Virginia.
* Although McClellan's army still outnumbered the defenders of Richmond, with more than 100,000 Federals against 50,000 rebels, McClellan still believed that he was greatly outnumbered himself, and the Battle of Seven Pines had made him even more cautious. He needed to rebuild the bridges over the Chickahominy and bring up his big guns, and he nagged Washington to send General McDowell's corps to reinforce him. The fact that it rained almost continually for the first ten days of June did give him a reasonable cause for delay, with McClellan writing Washington: "The whole face of the country is a perfect bog." The place was unhealthy to begin with, and now was much unhealthier. Typhoid was common, and cases of scurvy were beginning to appear.
McClellan's delay gave Lee some breathing space to get his patchwork command in fighting shape. Lee promoted good officers and demoted or reassigned less competent ones, did his best to get more food and better equipment for his men, and set everyone he could to digging in. Unsurprisingly, the spadework provoked loud complaints: entrenchments were for cowards, and digging ditches wasn't white man's work. Lee replied impatiently: "Why should we leave to [McClellan] the whole advantage of labor? ... There is nothing so military as labor, and nothing so important to an army as to save the lives of its soldiers." He backed up this conviction by performing many inspections of the work on the fortifications. His personal interest encouraged them in their work, and also gave him a chance to cultivate his relationship with his troops with his dignified and paternalistic manners. They responded with affection and growing unit pride.
McClellan was digging in on his side, to establish sites for his heavy siege guns. Lee knew that the Confederacy could not win this sort of fight, what he called a "battle of posts". On 5 June, Lee wrote to Jefferson Davis and proposed that his forces attack McClellan north of the Chickahominy in order to cut their supply line to their White House base and dislodge the Federal army from their siege positions. A fight in the open would allow an aggressive and fast-moving force to deal with a bigger but slower force on more even terms. Lee was not digging in to brace himself for an attack; he was digging in so he could defend Richmond with minimal forces, while using the bulk of his army to strike a blow of his own.
* Striking a blow against the Federals required military intelligence to determine their dispositions, and that meant sending out cavalry. Lee ordered his cavalry chief, Brigadier General James Ewell Brown ("Jeb") Stuart to conduct a reconnaissance in force to study the Union positions north of the Chickahominy.
The 29-year-old Stuart was delighted to show off his dash, so much so that Lee had to warn Stuart to focus on the purpose of the mission and not be distracted by opportunities for glory. During the small dark hours of 12 June, Stuart left Richmond with 1,200 men and two pieces of horse artillery. Among his officers were Colonel Fitzhugh Lee, General Lee's 26-year-old nephew, and Colonel William Henry Fitzhugh "Rooney" Lee, the general's 25-year-old son.
Only Stuart knew where they were going. By all appearances the column was headed northwest to join Stonewall Jackson, but after the troopers crossed the Chickahominy, they turned east and camped out that night near Hanover Court House. The next morning they cut north of McClellan's lines, skirting the positions of Union Brigadier General Fitz-John Porter's V Corps. The weather had finally turned hot and dry, the roads were good, and the Confederates moved rapidly. They encountered little opposition, routing a detachment of Federal cavalry in the afternoon, then raiding a Federal cavalry camp and taking a few prisoners. By this time, Stuart and his men were behind the Union army. Instead of retracing his route, he decided to keep right on going around them. He was going to get the glory he wanted and besides, as he rationalized later, the Yankees would be waiting for him if he went back the way that he had come.
The Confederate cavalrymen rode through the countryside to the ecstatic greetings of the inhabitants. The troopers raided a railroad station, shot up a passing supply train, and continued their arc around McClellan's army in the moonlight. By this time Federal cavalry was in pursuit, led by Brigadier General Philip Saint George Cooke, a Virginian who had stayed with the Union and who also happened to be Stuart's father-in-law. By dawn on 14 June, Stuart's column had reached the Chickahominy again, which was still swollen and impossible to ford. The Confederates managed to improvise a pontoon bridge and get across. They set fire to the bridge and withdrew just as Cooke's advance units arrived, to find their pursuit blocked.
The Confederates rode that day in relative safety and managed to get some sleep that night. The next morning, 15 June, they arrived back in Richmond again, having scored a spectacular coup against the Yankees that contributed greatly to weary Southern morale. More importantly, Stuart reported to General Lee that the northern flank of McClellan's army was "hanging in the air" and vulnerable to attack.
Lee now knew what to do. He would he would mass his forces by marching Stonewall Jackson from the Shenandoah Valley and scraping up what he could from elsewhere to obtain a total of over 80,000 men. A third of these would be left to hold the Richmond fortifications, while the rest would fall on the exposed flank of McClellan's force north of the Chickahominy. If all went well, they might be able to disrupt McClellan's army and destroy it by parts.
Jackson, in the meantime, had been very busy.
* Even many of Stonewall Jackson's own soldiers had thought him crazy, and maybe he was, but he had also demonstrated that he was a military genius, striking deep into enemy-controlled territory and scoring lightning victories against a more powerful adversary. Such feats required a degree of craziness: the ability to blindly focus on one task to the exclusion of all others, coupled with a self-centered inability to consider that he could possibly be wrong. Normal people were not granted such concentration nor such unfailing self-confidence, and in fact if Jackson had not had remarkable abilities to back them up these two characteristics would have certainly led to disaster. Still, smiting the Yanks was one thing, getting away with it was another, and as superior Federal forces were closing in on Jackson's force, some of his men worried that Jackson was still crazy after all.
On the morning of Sunday, 1 June 1862, Jackson's forces rose from their sleep in their places along the road north of Strasburg, and resumed their march. Fremont was to the west, threatening their passage through Strasburg, and Dick Ewell was ordered to take his men and hold back the Federals so that the column could pass through and escape. Instead of demanding last-ditch courage, this task proved frustrating in that Fremont barely made an effort to stop the rebels, halting as soon as contact was made. Ewell was baffled: "I can't make out what those people are about. They won't advance, but stay out there in the woods, making a great fuss with their guns."
Richard Taylor suggested he might take his brigade of Louisianans and probe about the Federal flank. Ewell replied irritably: "Do so. That may stir them up, and I am sick of fiddling about." Taylor moved forward, with the sole result that the timid Federals simply fell back. By midafternoon, the Stonewall Brigade, which who had been loudly cursing Jackson for leaving them in a tight spot and forcing them on a killing march, had cleared Strasburg, appreciative that their commander had remembered to save them after all. Ewell withdrew and followed.
At this point, everything that had seemed to be going smoothly now started going wrong. Fremont suddenly turned aggressive, as if he realized he had lost his real opportunity to stop Jackson, and Taylor's men and cavalry were hard-pressed to hold them. In the meantime, Jackson's column got into a horrendous traffic jam 12 miles (19 kilometers) south of Strasburg. Jackson rode up through the mess and pointedly asked an infantry officer: "Colonel, why do you not get your brigade together, keep it together, and move on?"
"It's impossible, General, I can't do it."
"Don't say it's impossible! Turn your command over to the next officer! If he can't do it, I'll find someone who can, if I have to take him from the ranks!" The jam was untangled and the column continued south. Just after sunset, a raging storm broke, with the rain coming down in torrents, mixed with oversized hailstones, broken by thunder and lightning. Fremont called a halt to his pursuit; Jackson kept his men on the march, having just received news that, on the other side of Massanutton Mountain, McDowell had joined Shields at Front Royal and sent Shields down the road toward Luray, paralleling Jackson's march. If Shields moved over the mountain road from Luray to New Market or to the south end of the mountain ahead of Jackson, the rebels would have to stand and fight. If Fremont then came up, the Confederates would be badly outnumbered and very likely crushed.
The storm was a blessing to Jackson, despite the fact that it made his men miserable. It also made the poor roads Shields had to march over that much muddier, while the Confederates retreated over a surfaced road. To make sure Shields could not block him at New Market, Jackson sent a detachment over the mountain to burn the bridges that spanned the swollen south fork of the Shenandoah River, west of Luray. Now Shields wouldn't be a problem until Jackson reached Harrisonburg. The rain continued the next day, 3 June. Jackson, concerned that Shields might have bridged the swollen streams anyway, was relieved when he went into New Market and found the town empty of Federals.
Meanwhile, the Confederate rearguard was seeing plenty of Yankees. Shields had sent his cavalrymen through Strasburg to help Fremont, and the Union troopers were hitting the rebels as hard as they could. They launched repeated charges and were driven off only with difficulty. Late that afternoon the Yankee cavalry broke through the rebel line, spreading panic through the ranks until they ran into a Virginia regiment that was waiting for them. The Confederates hit the Federals with a wall of lead that stopped them cold; all of them but one were captured or killed.
That night, the Virginia colonel reported to Jackson and expressed regret at the killing he had done. Jackson replied calmly: "Colonel, why did you say you saw those Federal soldiers fall with regret?" Startled, the colonel said he had admired their valor, and hated to have to slaughter such brave men. Jackson replied: "No. Kill them all. I do not wish them to be brave." Jackson had not needed to unlearn any of the romantic illusions about warfare that other Confederate officers were gradually giving up. He'd never had any in the first place.
* Below New Market, at the town of Mount Jackson, the Valley turnpike bridged the North Fork of the Shenandoah River. On 3 June, Jackson got his men across and then burned the bridge behind him, leaving Fremont blocked by the rising waters. Fremont had a pontoon bridge, but the river rose 12 feet (3.7 meters) in four hours, and the bridge had to be hastily cut loose from the other bank to keep it from being swept away. Since Shields was bogged down in the mud on the far side of the mountain, Jackson felt that he could give his men a day's rest, while the wagon train and the column of prisoners continued ahead.
Jackson spent the time considering what to do next. He had so far managed to keep Fremont and Shields from joining forces, and since that was the case, why not give one or both of them a bloodying? The southern end of Massanutton Mountain was bounded by Harrisonburg on the west, Cross Keys to the south, and Port Republic to the south and west. A network of streams and rivers served as a further obstacle to a linkup between Fremont and Shields, and if Jackson moved into that triangle of land, he would be able to easily strike at either Union force, while still having a back door through the Blue Ridge mountains, Brown's Gap, through which he could escape if need be.
The next afternoon Jackson's soldiers, each carrying two days' cooked rations and a full load of ammunition, resumed their march. Jackson sent a detachment to burn the bridge at Conrad's store and block a linkup between Fremont and Shields, and also sent a detachment to set up a signal station at the south end of Massanutton Mountain and report on Shields' movements. The rain began to slacken, meaning that Fremont would soon be able to set up his pontoon bridge, but Jackson still had a comfortable lead on him.
Jackson's army entered Harrisonburg on the morning of 5 June, and then turned southeast towards Port Republic. This put them into mud and their progress slowed to a crawl, much to Jackson's distress. However, the bridge at Conrad's Store had been burned, leaving Shields farther from Port Republic than Jackson, and though Fremont was once again in pursuit, rebel cavalry was blocking his column at every opportunity.
Turner Ashby was indeed having great fun frustrating the Federals, but the Union horsemen were determined. Late in the afternoon of 6 June, Ashby and his men drove back a regiment of New Jersey cavalry and captured their colonel. The Federals fell back, then regrouped and attacked again. Ashby led two of Ewell's infantry regiments against them to keep up the pressure. They ran into a band of Yankee sharpshooters firing hidden from the woods. Ashby's horse was killed, but Ashby fell off the dying animal onto his feet, waving a revolver and shouting: "Charge, men, for God's sake, charge!" He moved forward and took a bullet through the body that dropped him without another word.
The Federals were driven off, but there was nothing that could be done for Ashby. Jackson was interrogating the captured Union colonel when the news of Ashby's death was delivered. Jackson dismissed the prisoner and retreated to the solitude of the tent to pray. Ashby had been an undisciplined officer by Jackson's standards, but Jackson had admired the man's energy and bravery, and his death was a loss.
* On Saturday, 7 June, Ewell's division moved forward of Cross Keys in order to block Fremont, while Jackson moved the rest of the men to the high ground above the confluence of the rivers at Port Republic, where they dominated the one practical route Shields had open to move against them.
The Federals were still some distance away, giving the men time to read the newspapers and mail that had been forwarded to them. The headlines praised Jackson, his men, and their victories to the heavens, and they all basked in it. Jackson was flattered himself, though he felt guilty over it: after all, the papers did not give proper credit to the Lord, who was truly responsible for their success. From that time on, it seems, Jackson no longer read the newspapers.
He also received praise in a message from Jefferson Davis, as well as bad news: Davis would have liked to have given Jackson the reinforcements he had requested, but none were available, and so Jackson would have to make do with the forces he had. Jackson was disappointed, feeling certain that he could not do Fremont and Shields any real injury with his current force. Worse, for the first time in the entire campaign, Jackson had no choice but to confront the enemy. Shields had beaten Jackson at Kernstown back in March, felt he could do it again, and his force was closing in on the rebels. Shields sent a message to Fremont suggesting that Fremont attack simultaneously, concluding: "I think Jackson is caught this time."
Jackson would have been content to leave the Sabbath, 8 June, peaceful, but the Federals had other ideas, fording the South Fork and starting a small, sharp fight with the rebels. No sooner had the Yankees been driven off than the sounds of battle could be heard from Cross Keys. Fremont was making the assault requested of him, launching a frontal attack against Ewell with elements of General Blenker's division, the same unlucky outfit that had been lost in northern Virginia for six weeks. Many of Blenker's soldiers were cut down and the rest were forced to fall back. Fremont then settled down to a bombardment that lasted much of the rest of the day, and finally withdrew from the battle, his 10,500 men defeated by Ewell's 5,000. In the end, the Federals took almost 700 casualties, many killed, while Ewell lost less than 300.
Jackson remained at the heights above Port Republic with his batteries during the fight. When it was suggested that Shields might attack to help Fremont, Jackson replied: "No, sir, he cannot do it! I should tear him to pieces!" Indeed, as the fight at Cross Keys progressed, Jackson grew hopeful, saying to his chief of staff: "Major, wouldn't it be a blessed thing if God would give us a glorious victory today?" An onlooker reported later that he made this wish with the expression "of a child hoping to receive some favor."
Ewell had granted his wish, and Jackson then considered the possibility that he could indeed smash Shields and then fall on Fremont, even with the forces he had available. That night, Jackson sent orders to Ewell to leave a reinforced brigade to keep Fremont in his place, and join Jackson with the rest of his troops for a combined assault.
Monday began bright and sunny. The Stonewall Brigade led the advance north of the South Fork, under the command of 33-year-old Brigadier General Charles S. Winder. They made contact with Federal pickets about 7:00 AM. Jackson told them to attack, despite the fact that he did not know the enemy's strength. The Stonewall Brigade moved forward only to be stopped cold. There were only two small brigades in their path, with less than 3,000 men in total, but they were well-led by Brigadier General E.B. Tyler and fought savagely. They had six guns firing from a high clearing down the ranks of the attackers, with deadly effect.
Jackson now realized that he very possibly was caught. All that could be done was make a last stand, or retreat. He chose to fight and sent word to Ewell to hurry on, also issuing orders to the force at Cross Keys to fall back through Port Republic, burning the bridge across the North Fork behind them so Fremont could not pursue. Winder was told to stand and fight and he did, taking a beating and no doubt remembering what had happened to the previous commander of the Stonewall Brigade after withdrawing without permission.
Taylor arrived and was assigned to knock out the guns on the high ground that were giving the Stonewall Brigade such misery. Jackson then went forward into the fighting to brace up Winder and his men, who were wavering under extreme pressure. Seeing Federal skirmishers move up, Jackson ordered the men to charge and drive them back in hopes of knocking some caution into the Yankees and some boldness into his own men. The charge went forward and the Union skirmishers retreated, but only to a better position where they killed the rebels with determination, while artillery smashed the Confederate ranks. The Stonewall Brigade wavered, started to dissolve, and then broke under the pressure, fleeing past Winder and Jackson, who were unable to stop them. It appeared the rebels had lost the battle.
And then one of Ewell's brigades came on the scene and plugged the hole left by the fleeing Stonewall Brigade, blocking a Federal advance. Simultaneously, the six guns on the high ground ceased their fire on the Confederates below. They were now too busy fighting Taylor to harass Ewell's men. Three times Taylor charged the Federal battery and finally overran it, even though the gunners fought to the last, clubbing the rebels with rammer-staffs when all else failed. The guns were turned against Tyler, who attempted to wheel his force against the Confederates and retake the battery, and then another of Ewell's brigades arrived to add their weight in the attack. Outnumbered, the Federals finally gave way and ran from the field. Jackson, overjoyed by the sudden turn of fortune, touched Ewell's arm and cried out: "The man who does not see the hand of God in this is blind, sir! Blind!"
It was 11:00 AM. Jackson had plenty of time left in the day to finish off Tyler and his men, but though the Federals had fled the field they had done so in good order, covering the retreat with their ten remaining artillery pieces. Jackson had to satisfy himself with mopping up prisoners and salvaging abandoned Federal arms. The wounded of both sides were attended to, until Fremont showed up across the river and began to shell the field. Angrily, Jackson pulled back, leaving the Federal wounded to Fremont.
The battle had cost Jackson some 800 casualties, while inflicting over 1,000 on the Yankees, with over half taken prisoner. The Federals had put up a good fight. A Confederate officer conceded: "It is but bare justice to say that the enemy on this field fought stubbornly and well." Jackson put his army on the road for Brown's Gap late that afternoon, following the prisoners and the supply train, which had left in the morning. The Valley Campaign was over. The next day, Jackson's men were passing over the mountains, and Lincoln had ordered Fremont and Shields to withdraw. Fremont left gladly. Shields still wanted to take on Jackson and was angry, saying: "I never obeyed an order with such reluctance."
President Lincoln had attempted to move forces around like pieces on a chessboard and found out that the real world didn't work so neatly. The exercise had proven inept, and played into the hands of Lee's intent of preventing reinforcements from reaching McClellan. Still, Lincoln had a legitimate point in that Jackson had given the Union an opportunity to completely destroy an isolated Confederate force, and if the tools at the President's disposal had been more up to the job, hardly a Confederate should have escaped. There was also the question of whether the diversion of forces from McClellan made any difference: in hindsight, McClellan had overwhelming military superiority against Lee in the first place, and wasn't likely to have made any better use of a larger army than the one he had.
* Jackson had performed a seemingly impossible feat, frustrating a force of over 60,000 Federals with only 17,000 men, inflicting considerable casualties on the enemy and seizing large quantities of stores. In particular, he had pinned down large numbers of Union troops that might otherwise have been sent to help the siege of Richmond. Jackson had confounded a powerful enemy through deception, good intelligence, and rapid movement. He had fought battle after battle under conditions of his own choosing and won them all. The campaign was a badly-needed boost to Confederate morale, and in particular was a boost to the morale of his own men, who now idolized Jackson, even though many still thought him crazy in some ways. On the other side of the coin, the Federals they had encountered had been given a demoralizing taste of defeat that would linger with them for a long time.
To be sure, Banks and Fremont had been indecisive and inept, and had not weather luckily intervened during the rapid withdrawal Jackson might have found himself in real trouble. Shields was a competent and aggressive soldier, his men were fighters, and he had more men than Jackson, but they ended up fighting mud more than rebels. Jackson's victory might have been half skill and half luck, but much the same could be said of life in general. Jackson himself neatly summed up how he had done it:
BEGIN QUOTE:
Always mystify, mislead, and surprise the enemy, if possible. And when you strike and overcome him, never let up in the pursuit so long as your men have strength to follow; for an army routed, if hotly pursued, becomes panic-stricken, and can then be destroyed by half their number.
The other rule is, never fight against heavy odds if by any possible maneuvering you can hurl your own force on only a part, and that the weakest part, of your enemy and crush it. Such tactics will win every time, and a small one may thus destroy a large one in detail, and repeated victory will make it invincible.
END QUOTE
On 13 June 13, Jackson wrote Robert E. Lee to report on his situation and to ask Lee for instructions.
