Lee's Lieutenants
Page 9
Beauregard’s attention was divided; his aides were confused; as his orders multiplied he lost his grip on his widely spread brigades. A slow cannonade now was ranging the entire left wing. Enemy forces were known to be moving down the Warrenton Pike toward Stone Bridge. That was all that actually had happened, but it shook to chaos the Confederate plan of action.
As Beauregard’s orders had been issued to 6:00 A.M., or were interpreted by each of the affected officers, they provided: (1) that Longstreet should cross Bull Run and attack; (2) that Ewell should await word to launch a diversion toward Centreville; (3) that Holmes should support Ewell, though orders had not reached Holmes; (4) that David Jones should follow Ewell; (5) that Cocke and N. G. Evans should stand to the last in defense of the left-center and left; and (6) that Early should take position to support either Jones or Longstreet.16 Involved as all this was, it might have been simplified if it had been understood. It was not. At Beauregard’s headquarters nobody knew either the scope or recognized the conflict of orders.
About 7 o’clock Beauregard took his first step to reinforce his threatened left. He ordered a shift to Stone Bridge by General Bernard E. Bee, who commanded one of the brigades Johnston had brought from Winchester. With Bee went a Georgia contingent under Colonel Francis S. Bartow. Almost at the same hour, Jackson was directed to take his brigade and nine guns to fill the gap between Cocke and Bonham. In this manner, before the enemy’s point of attack was discovered, all Beauregard’s reserves had been ordered to move from their first positions of the morning.17
To be nearer the front, Johnston and Beauregard rode out to a high hill—to be known as Lookout Hill—at the rear of Bonham’s position at Mitchell’s Ford and established field headquarters. No sooner had they arrived than Beauregard underwent another change of mind. He had strengthened his left; he had prepared a demonstration on the right; he would turn that demonstration into an offensive against Centreville. He would hurl Ewell, Holmes, Jones, Longstreet, and Bonham across Bull Run while the Federals were preoccupied with their developing attack on the Confederate left. The commanding general approved. Whether he did so enthusiastically or after hesitation the record does not show.
For perhaps fifteen minutes Beauregard nursed this hope of a Napoleonic counterstroke. Then, about 9 o’clock, from a young captain of engineers, E. Porter Alexander by name, who was acting as signal officer, came this message: “I see a body of troops crossing Bull Run about two miles above the Stone Bridge. The head of the column is in the woods on this side. The rear of the column is in the woods on the other side. About a half-mile of its length is visible in the open ground between. I can see both infantry and artillery.”18
The enemy, in short, already had crossed Bull Run far beyond the Confederate left and was fast taking position to turn that flank! While Beauregard was moving to strike the Federals’ left, they were playing precisely the same game, and were playing it more swiftly, from their side of the Run.
The demands of the new situation were clear. With all speed the left must be strengthened further. Bee was marching for Stone Bridge—send him above it. Jackson was to take position below the bridge—let him, too, advance to meet the Federals who had crossed the stream. Colonel Wade Hampton of South Carolina had just arrived from Richmond with 600 infantry—speed them to the exposed flank. In excitement over the imperiled left, nobody seems to have considered whether new instructions were needed for the brigades on the right, where they were utterly at cross-purposes.
Sound of firing, artillery and musketry, now rolled down the Run. In swelling volume it seemed to come from the left of Stone Bridge. Worse still, Captain Alexander sent a courier to call to the attention of headquarters the rise of a cloud in the northwest. It was raised by dust, apparently, and was judged to be distant about ten miles. Johnston concluded immediately that the dust cloud marked the advance from the Valley of Pattersons Federal army. Patterson was believed by Johnston to have 30,000 men.19
If the van of that army was within three or four hours’ march of the flank already being assailed, the afternoon might bring an overwhelming force against the Confederate left. Turning that flank and doubling it up, the Federals might seize Manassas and cut off the army from its line of supply. If Jackson, Bee, Evans, and Hampton succeeded in concentrating to resist the enemy, they could count a bare 6,650 muskets, or only a little more than 20 per cent of the effective strength of the Confederate forces. Although this would be an exceedingly thin line with which to confront a powerful adversary, Beauregard was so confident of the strategy of a coun-terstroke delivered from his right that he did not attempt to change his confused dispositions, or to give further reinforcement to the left. Nor did he go there himself to see what was happening. An hour passed. Beauregard kept his station on Lookout Hill. With him, puzzled and increasingly concerned, waited Johnston.
Not long before 10:30, from the extreme right at Union Mills, a messenger of Dick Ewell arrived at field headquarters: Ewell, he said, had been waiting since early morning for orders to advance; receiving none, he had sent to inquire of David Jones, next on his left, if Jones had any news or orders; Jones, north of the Run and deployed, said that he had understood Ewell also was to cross and attack. Ewell now wished Beauregard to know that he had never received such orders as Jones mentioned.
That was the doom of hope for an offensive on the right! Upon reflection and with the approval of Johnston, Beauregard directed that the brigades north of the Run recross to the south bank. “I thus,” Beauregard wrote in 1863, “had suddenly or on the spur of the moment to change my whole plan of battle, with troops which had never yet fought and could scarcely maneuver. My heart for a moment failed me! … But I soon rallied, and I then solemnly pledged my life that I would that day conquer or die!”20
Johnston, who meticulously had respected his assignment to Beauregard of the conduct of the battle, became more restless. He wanted information from the left. He saw the dust clouds spread, he heard a louder fire. At length he broke over his self-imposed restraint and urged Beauregard to strengthen to the limit of the army’s resources the troops on the left. “The battle is there,” he said. “I am going!”21
3
BEAUREGARD’S STAR AT ZENITH
Beauregard hurriedly issued orders to carry out Johnston’s wishes. Holmes was directed to proceed to the sound of the firing. Early, in reserve, was ordered to follow. Bonham was told to send two regiments to the left. After dispatching these orders, he set off to overtake Johnston. As the two generals approached the scene of action, they encountered stragglers, wounded men, disorganized fragments of regiments. Past these soldiers they spurred until they came to an eminence from which was visible a wide range of smoke-covered landscape. In front was a long, curving Federal line, ablaze with musketry fire and artillery. To their right, on an adjoining ridge, a short, thin line of Confederate infantry was in action. Behind this line were hundreds of confused Southern troops. To the left of the generals, admirably placed behind the crest of the hill, was a waiting Confederate brigade, near the center of which six field guns were barking viciously at the enemy. Streaming backward over the shoulder of the ridge to the right were broken units from the fight; one battered regiment without officers stood at order arms.22
What had happened? How fared the battle? The answer was given the generals in snatches and by different individuals, for no officer was in command of the field. Colonel N. G. Evans, at Stone Bridge, had seen early in the morning the movement of the Federals to the left and had thrown his 1,100 men directly in front of the approaching enemy column. General Bernard Bee, who had started for Stone Bridge about 7:00 A.M., had taken his two regiments and two from Colonel Francis Bartow’s force and marched to Evans’s support. These three commands had made a splendid fight. At a critical moment they had been reinforced by Wade Hamptons 600 South Carolinians. In the face of stiff odds and heavy fire, Evans, Bee, Bartow, and Hampton had been compelled at length to withdraw to the hill where lived the widow
Judith Henry. While they were retiring, T J. Jackson’s brigade had arrived in support. When he learned of the attack on the left, Jackson, like Bee, had marched in that direction at once.
The troops that had been driven back must be identified, reorganized, and put back into the fight. Those in the stubborn line on the ridge to the right, Beauregard and Johnston soon learned, were Hampton’s South Carolinians; those in confusion in the rear were the survivors of Evans’s, Bee’s, and Bartow’s commands—all of them shattered except for the regiment that stood, unofficered and waiting. That was the 4th Alabama. The waiting brigade in a grim gray line to the left was Jackson’s Virginians.
Johnston and Beauregard and their staffs made their way among the scattered fugitives. When they reached the 4th Alabama, Johnston found its flag bearer, put the boy by his side, and called to the soldiers and rode forward. With alacrity and ready cheers the men followed. Johnston placed them in line with Jackson; around these steady soldiers and the Virginians others quickly gathered. Soon the line was restored in the face of the Federals who were moving up the slope in front and on the right for another assault.23
Beauregard, with polite firmness, now made a startling request of Johnston: Would the commanding general please retire from the front and leave to him the direction of the fighting there?
To Johnston’s surprised ear he explained that one or the other of them had to supervise the entire field and, in particular, see that reinforcements were hurried forward. If one must do this, Johnston as senior should. As the junior, said Beauregard, it was his right and his duty to handle the engaged wing of the army. Johnston at first refused. Beauregard persisted: It must be done. At length, with manifest reluctance, Johnston acquiesced and rode back to Portici, the Lewis house. This proved to be a well-chosen post of command. Close by ran the roads that any reinforcements would use.24
It was now after 1:00 P.M. Until that hour the initiative and the advantage had been altogether on the side of the Federals. From the Confederate side, the Unionists did not appear to have made a single mistake or to have presented even one opening. Beauregard’s elaborate plan of battle had been thrice changed and in each instance had been frustrated. Only the stubborn fighting of those first Southerners on the scene had saved the army from disaster.
Disposing revived regiments on either side of Jackson’s steadfast brigade, Beauregard, wherever he thought he could rally the men, made them a brief speech. He summarized it afterward in his formal report: “I informed them that re-enforcements would rapidly come to their support, and that we must at all hazards hold our posts until re-enforced. I reminded them that we fought for our homes, our firesides, and for the independence of our country. I urged them to the resolution of victory or death on that field.” Said he, “These sentiments were loudly, eagerly cheered….”25
At that moment those traitorous war gods, Chance and Blunder, who had fought all morning against the Southerners, turned on the Federals. Through the smoke there galloped recklessly up the hill of the Henry house two batteries, which opened fire immediately against the Confederate artillery. The Union infantry support was slow in coming up, and then was disorganized by a short cavalry charge which Colonel J. E. B. Stuart led. The 33rd Virginia was shouted to the charge. A roar and a volley—the Virginians were upon the Federals. Farther along the front Jackson’s men fired fast. The artillerists were cut down. Both batteries were silenced.26
At 2:00 P.M. Beauregard boldly ordered an advance along the right of his line. Swiftly the plateau was swept clear of the enemy. The gain was momentary. Ere long the enemy quickened his fire. Bluecoats showed once again over the rim of the hill. Soon the defenders began to give ground; once the line wavered, it yielded. In fifteen minutes the Federals recovered nearly the whole of the advance positions they had lost.27
Five hours of fighting since Evans had challenged the Federal advance. Five hours and the question was the same: Would the Federals outflank the Confederate left? Steadily the Union line was being extended toward the southwest. Johnston, at Portici, already had seen the danger and had been hurrying forward all the troops within marching distance. But for a counterstroke there must be strong reinforcements. Beauregard believed the needed troops would come up, and without waiting for them he renewed his attack. Again he swept across the plateau and cleared it, though at heavy cost. General Bee fell. Colonel Bartow went down. This time the ground recovered by the Confederates was held.28
Then, as it subsequently appeared to an amazed army, a miracle occurred. The two South Carolina regiments from Bonham’s brigade, panting through the dust across the July fields, hurried to the endangered left. The 28th Virginia found its way to the position of the South Carolinians and extended the left. Three good regiments of Johnston’s army, who had detrained that noon at Manassas, moved under Johnston’s orders straight to the sound of the firing. The left was long now and curved to the west. Opposite it the enemy front was being extended for another attempt. Another brigade on the flank was needed immediately—would it come up?29
As Beauregard looked anxiously to the southwest he saw a marching column. At its head was its flag. Eagerly he turned his glass on the standard: Was it the flag of the Union or of the South? For all his effort he could not tell. Now a courier brought him a dispatch from the signal corps. A large force, approaching from the very quarter to which Beauregard was looking, was believed to be Patterson’s Federals. Beauregard’s heart sank. Once again he focused his glass on the approaching column. There was an anxious heart-thumping delay. Then a breeze swept across the hill and set the summer leaves to rustling. It struck the column, it stirred the bunting, it spread the colors—Confederate. The needed brigade had arrived to save the day! It was Early’s.30
Beauregard pointed it out to the near-by troops. They cheered its appearance. Up and down the front spread the news of reinforcement. Weary men were strengthened to speed their fire. The weird cry of the Southern foxhunters swelled at the prospect of such a chase as none of them had known before. Another pause, intolerable minutes of expectancy and confusion. Then, suddenly, all along the front, the Confederates rushed forward. The Federal front of attack collapsed. Before the fire of advancing Southerners collapse soon became rout, the oft-described rout of Bull Run.31
CHAPTER 3
Beauregard’s Star Wanes
1
PURSUIT AND A CONFUSED COUNCIL
The battle was won—could there be pursuit? Three full hours of daylight remained. Bonham had fresh regiments at Mitchell’s Ford. Longstreet’s brigade was at Blackburn’s. From these crossings the distance to Centreville was three miles. The Federals, retreating madly toward the same village, had four miles to go. If Bonham and Longstreet moved quickly they might cut them off. From the left, meantime, Colonel Stuart was spurring his small cavalry command in the direction of Sudley Ford. Early’s infantry were pursuing. Other regiments were following the enemy up the turnpike toward Stone Bridge. Beauregard directed these dispositions and then galloped to the Lewis house for a brief, exultant meeting with Johnston. The senior ordered him to continue the chase.1
Little was accomplished. Stuart ere long was burdened with many prisoners and deprived of virtually all power to strike. Early found his men so wearied by their march that he had to rest them for a time. Before the other pursuing regiments the Federal infantry fled too rapidly for the Southerners to re-establish contact. Abandoned artillery, demoralized stragglers, and the plunder of the field were the only rewards on the left.2
On the right center, Longstreet advanced steadily along the Manassas-Centreville highway, but soon found Bonham’s men coming into the road from the left. Bonham rode up and as senior insisted on marching his regiments ahead of Longstreet’s. More minutes of waning daylight passed while Bonham formed his troops and took the lead. They did not pause again until there came from the north the challenge of artillery fire. It was reported that the Federals had a line manned with infantry and artillery. Bonham pondered. The sun was al
most down. Should he risk an attack in gathering twilight against a foe that might have rallied? At that moment Major W. H. C. Whiting, Johnston’s chief engineer, appeared. Whiting had heard rumors that the Federals were attacking at Union Mills and striking for Manassas. Longstreet listened in amusement and ridiculed the possibility of a countermovement. He knew a retreat when he saw one, he said; the Federals were beaten and must be attacked at once. Let the batteries open!
Whiting rose in his stirrups. “In the name of General Johnston,” said he, “I order that the batteries shall not open!” Longstreet maintained that he had the responsibility of the field and would engage the enemy. But Bonham intervened with a request that action not be joined. That was tantamount to orders of a direct superior, and Longstreet said no more. Bonham directed a withdrawal to the Confederate side of Bull Run. The rumor that had halted them in front of Centreville had spread widely and prompted Beauregard to order a concentration in the vicinity of Union Mills. This prevented Ewell and Holmes from striking the enemy.3
The evil wrought by false report (the rumor originated with one of D. R. Jones’s staff, who mistook the blue uniforms of some of his own men, recrossing the Run, for those of the enemy) was forgotten amid rejoicing over the victory. In the first great test—the decisive test, many averred—the South had won. Of the manner in which their adversaries had fought that morning the victors had nothing to say; they could talk only of the mad flight of their foe in the afternoon. Surely, after that experience, the Federals would not again attempt to invade the South. Independence was won; the war was over.