Lee's Lieutenants

by Douglas Southall Freeman

There were no misgivings in Stuart’s mind—certainly he admitted none—concerning the duration of his absence from the immediate flank of the army. He seems never to have asked whether the time spent at White House on the afternoon of June 29 might not have been utilized more profitably in hurrying back to share in the pursuit of McClellan. For the wasted day of the thirtieth Stuart made no apologies. Among his companions in arms were some who felt that his operations had been to no good purpose—in particular, that from sheer bravado he had flushed the game at Evelington Heights. If Stuart, said his critics, had kept to the woods after he reached the heights, exhausted Union commanders would have neglected to seize that key position that day. Then Lee, coming up, could have used his artillery to slaughter the Federals and perhaps to compel their surrender.

  In long retrospect, Stuart’s action was proof, as Porter Alexander put it, that “dangers lurk in excess of enterprise as well as in its deficiency.” Beyond that, it is by no means certain that the half-exhausted Confederate artillery could have conducted from Evelington Heights a successful bombardment of McClellan’s camp in the face of a covering fire from the gunboats in the James River. General Lee himself did not sit in judgment of the actions of Stuart. When he came to recount briefly the events of July 2-4, he omitted all reference to the affair on Evelington Heights.24

  Stuart might be theatrical and loud, might be avid of praise, might be inclined to prolong his raids at a distance from the army; but he was alert, he was intelligent, he was possessed of many essentials of sound military judgment, and he was beginning to show uncommon aptitude in fathoming the intentions of the enemy. Lee had faith in Stuart, and now that the cavalry had increased to two brigades and required divisional command, he recommended Stuart for promotion. As of July 28, Jeb became a major general.

  His assigned senior brigadier, in a wise settlement of obscure differences with President Davis, was Wade Hampton. The second cavalry brigadier, named on Stuart’s recommendation, was Colonel Fitz Lee of the 1st Virginia cavalry. “In my estimation,” said Stuart, “no one in the Confederacy possesses more of the elements of what a brigadier of cavalry ought to be than he.”25

  The cavalry was organized—and ready.

  4

  THE JUNIORS WHO VIED WITH VETERANS

  As ready as Stuart were others of less renown. In young John Pelham the trial of the Seven Days had developed leadership unmistakable. Far to the left at Gaines’ Mill on June 27, wrote Stuart, “ensued one of the most gallant and heroic feats of the war”—Captain Pelham, with his single Napoleon, directing fire against two Federal batteries “with a coolness and intrepidity only equalled by his previous brilliant career.” Pelham it was who cleared the way for Stuart’s advance to White House, Pelham who chased the Marblehead down the Pamunkey, Pelham who, at Stuart’s order, opened from Evelington Heights. “I feel bound to ask for his promotion,” said Stuart, “with the remark that in either cavalry or artillery no field grade is too high for his merit and capacity.”26

  Among Pelham’s classmates at West Point had been the young Virginian Thomas L. Rosser. Upon Virginias secession, Rosser had sent in his resignation and hurried to Montgomery. He was physically a superb young man, well over six feet, Indian in erectness, broad-shouldered and muscular, with the indescribable quality of the soldier in his bearing and direct gaze. Assigned first to the Washington Artillery of New Orleans, he was promoted colonel two days before the opening of the Seven Days campaign and given command of the 5th Virginia cavalry. On June 30, picketing Malvern Hill, he had discovered the enemy crossing hurriedly to the river. When Longstreet and Holmes did not respond to his report, the youthful Rosser would not be balked. He sent the information directly to Lee. His reward was the early appearance of the commanding general himself at his outpost, first to observe the movement of the enemy and then to order Holmes forward. This notable service Rosser followed, the next week, by a stubborn defensive on the River Road below Westover. Stuart watched and applauded, and from that day, in a service that boasted many daring and ambitious officers, Rosser was a marked man.27

  Opportunities for the artillerists in the Seven Days had been few because of the absences, defective organization, poor leadership, and unfavorable terrain; but where battery commanders had a fair field of fire, some of them shone. First among them was Captain William J. Pegram, a younger brother of Colonel John Pegram, who had shared in the tragedy of Rich Mountain. “Willie” Pegram, small of stature, spectacled, retiring, had been a quiet listener at the University of Virginia while fiery fellow students had debated the burning question of secession. When the hour of decision came, he left the university and reported as a member of “Company F,” a corps d’élite of his native Richmond. In a short time he was elected lieutenant of the Purcell Battery, another Richmond command, and saw action during the First Battle of Manassas.28

  Eleven months later, when Lee opened the offensive at Mechanicsville, Willie Pegram was captain of the Purcell Battery and was sent forward in the van of A. P. Hills division. He soon came under the converging fire of the Federal artillery across Beaver Dam Creek. His six guns coped for a time with close to thirty of superior accuracy. When night mercifully came to cover him, Pegram had lost forty-seven of his command, with many of his horses, and had four of his guns out of action. Somehow he got his battery into condition to fight the next day, and engaged gallantly at Gaines’ Mill.

  At Malvern Hill Pegram answered the desperate call of Armistead for artillery support. With the fine Portsmouth Battery of Carey F. Grimes, Pegram crashed through the woods, unlimbered, and defied the blast from the ordnance that crowded the crest of the hill. “No men,” wrote Armistead, “could have behaved better than Captains Pegram and Grimes; they worked their guns after their men were cut down, and only retired when entirely disabled.” After the last hot fieldpiece was hauled out and the casualties of the campaign reckoned, the roll showed that Pegram had lost 7 killed and 53 wounded, a total of 60, in a battery of 80 men. A gruesome toll it was, and due in part to Pegram’s belief that the largest service was to be rendered at the short range.29

  The roll of those conspicuous in the hard service of the infantry was so long that brigade commanders had to explain that, with few exceptions, they could not attempt to name those below the rank of field officer. For the first time appeared prominently in reports the names of Robert F Hoke, S. Dodson Ramseur, Samuel McGowan, E. L. Thomas, all of whom, then colonels or lieutenant colonels, soon were to be promoted. Colonel John B. Gordon won new admiration for his gallant leading of Rodes’s brigade at Malvern Hill, where more than 400 of his Alabamians fell.

  Of all the brigadiers, R. H. Anderson, in his modest way, probably had been the most definitely marked throughout the campaign by soldierly competence. At Glendale he had been in charge of Longstreet’s division while Old Pete directed the field. In Longstreet’s bestowal of praise, Anderson’s name headed all. Jackson, too, had observed the “gallant style” of the South Carolinians advance on the twenty-seventh in support of Whiting. It was plain that Anderson soon was to be promoted.30

  George Pickett, he of the curling locks, had been wounded in the charge that added to Dick Anderson’s reputation at Gaines’ Mill, but he was not forgotten in reports. Cadmus Wilcox, another of Longstreet’s brigadiers, had acquitted himself admirably in the same battle. At Glendale Wilcox had perhaps the hardest fighting of the day, in the face of two valiantly defended Federal batteries. When the day was over, his record was as good as that of any brigadier, though his loss had been ghastly.31

  In A. P. Hill’s division, Pender’s attack at Mechanicsville, Gregg’s at Gaines’ Mill, and the final, well-organized advance of Joseph R. Anderson at Glendale probably had been the outstanding accomplishments. For a division of which three brigades had never been previously under fire, the showing of all the units was creditable and more. D. H. Hill felt that Colquitt and Ripley had done less than their part at Gaines’ Mill and in his report he was to say so in plain terms. For
Samuel Garland and George B. Anderson he had nothing but praise.32

  Of all the brigadiers of Jackson’s command, the most shining figure had been Hood, whose attack at Gaines’ Mill was regarded as the most brilliant single achievement in the Seven Days. Winder was credited with excellent leadership, as was Lawton. Trimble, all ardor, had displayed his fighting spirit in pleading—in vain—with Jackson to launch a final assault at Malvern Hill. Magruder’s command had been so overmarched and so mishandled that the competent men had not been revealed, though the worst misfits had been exposed. As for Huger’s division, the commander had better reason to be proud of Armistead, Mahone, and Wright than they had to applaud his direction.

  Tactical mistakes there had been, wasteful exposure under fire, and assaults that more experienced leading might have rendered unnecessary; but had all the reports been bundled together, and one word written across their jacket, that one word would have been Promising.

  5

  THE ENIGMA OF JACKSON’S STATE OF MIND

  More important than the promise of any of the brigadiers during the Seven Days was the performance of those divisional commanders who, despite tactical blundering and in the face of delays by others, had carried the strategical plan to success.

  Dick Ewell was to be reckoned high among those who had contributed unmistakably to the defeat of the Federals. In every essential, to the limits allowed him, he had met the test. His marches had been well-ordered and prompt. At Gaines’ Mill he had not only led his men admirably, but also had given all possible aid to the adjoining units. At Malvern Hill he had been held in reserve until late in the action. Then he had advanced valiantly. No officer was mentioned more often or more gratefully by others. The picture of him that takes form, in a score of reports, is that of an intelligent, trained, self-contained, and daring man, unique in personality, who had cheer and help for every fellow soldier who needed either.

  In the final hours of the Seven Days’ Battles, Jackson had been as diligent as his lieutenant, Ewell. Late in the evening of July 1, when Stuart’s engineer came to report that the cavalry were close at hand, Jackson was in good humor and disposed to joke. “That’s good! That’s good!” he said in his usual formula of approval. “Changing his base, is he? Ha, ha.” During the night, after some of his officers awakened him from a hard sleep with a request for orders, he answered only, “Please let me sleep; there will be no enemy here in the morning.” At daylight, when it was not yet clear that he was right in his prediction, he sent a fatigue party to clean up the battlefield on his front. When asked his reason for this, he said simply, “I am going to attack here presently, as soon as the fog rises, and it won’t do to march the troops over their own dead, you know; that’s what I am doing it for.” His complete dissent a little later from Lee’s decision not to pursue McClellan that day was silent but apparent to observers.33

  All this was in keeping with the reputation Jackson had acquired in the Valley. But what of the march of June 26, of the delay at the Chickahominy bridge, of the day-long wait on the north side of White Oak Swamp? How were these things to be explained? Were they the performance of a man who could be trusted to lead larger forces under a ranking general in a new campaign?

  Many Confederates in and out of the army had unfriendly answers. Longstreet, perhaps at the time and publicly in later years, maintained that “Jackson was a very skillful man against such men as Shields, Banks, and Frémont, but when pitted against the best of the Federal commanders he did not appear so well.” Among staff officers it was whispered that Old Jack had said “he did not intend that his men should do all the fighting.” His light casualties gave some color to the rumor. Even D. H. Hill thought that “an important factor” in Jackson’s lost day at White Oak Swamp was his “pity for his own corps, worn out by … numerous sanguinary battles.” Hill echoed the gossip of staff officers that Jackson thought the “garrison of Richmond ought now to bear the brunt of the fighting.” Dr. Dabney believed Jackson mentally exhausted on the critical day. William Allan, not second even to Dabney in his admiration for his chief, could say only, when the evidence had been sifted, that “Jackson’s comparative inaction” was “one of the few great mistakes of his marvelous career.”34

  Jackson himself never indicated that he thought he had failed during the Seven Days. He described his marches of June 26-27 as though they were made precisely in accordance with the plan. For his failure to advance on June 30, the marshy character of the soil, the destruction of the bridge, and the strong position of the enemy were set down as the reasons. Only once did he ever speak of White Oak Swamp. Overhearing his staff arguing whether troops from his command should have been sent across the swamp to Longstreet’s assistance, Jackson said curtly, “If General Lee had wanted me, he could have sent for me.” What made him give that answer? On the thirtieth had he been striving to hold rigidly to soldierly subordination in the large army to which he was a stranger; had he been so weary that he had not exerted himself beyond the letter of his orders? Did he voice justification or excuse? He gave no hint.35

  Lee never understood why the delay occurred at White Oak Swamp, but he did not lose his high opinion of Jackson as a soldier. The commanding general may have reasoned that Jackson in an unfamiliar country, cooperating with distant columns through inexperienced staff officers, faced difficulties that could not be overcome. Chance and not lack of ability or of effort may have seemed to Lee the reason for Jackson’s failure. Although Jackson had not accomplished what was expected of him, in his report Lee was content to believe he could not have done it.

  Physical exhaustion and the resulting benumbment of a mind that depended much on sleep probably are the basic explanation for Jackson’s inability to meet the demands of the campaign. In addition, every other circumstance was adverse: Jackson had no skill in quick mastery of terrain, though his eye for tactical use of a position was admirable. The man who could have helped him most, his topographer Jed Hotchkiss, was not with him. Whiting may have been sulking. Major Dabney, an excellent administrator in camp, was inexperienced in transportation. On the critical days’ marches quartermaster Harman was absent or, like his chief, was weary. Jackson was attempting, also, to handle a much larger force than ever had been under his charge. Most of this Lee took into account. If, at the end of the campaign, he had doubts concerning Jackson, they probably were two—whether the victor of the Valley could display his full capacity in a subordinate position, and whether he could use the abilities of other men sufficiently to direct a large force.

  Circumstances curiously deferred the answer. On June 26 the Federal forces in the Shenandoah Valley and those designated for the defense of the approaches to Washington had been consolidated as the Army of Virginia. To its direction was assigned Major General John Pope, who had displayed much vigor in successful operations on the upper Mississippi. Within a fortnight Pope began an advance toward the Rapidan River. His army appeared capable, at the least, of advancing to the Virginia Central Railroad at the “Gordonsville loop” and thereby severing communications between Richmond and the Shenandoah. That done, Pope, if strong, might march toward Richmond and renew the threat McDowell had made in May of a junction with McClellan.

  Jackson would not state the case in defensive terms. He went to Lee and argued with vigor that the best means of dealing with McClellan and with Pope was through an offensive into the enemy’s own country. When Lee reserved judgment, Jackson determined on a bold step: He would appeal over the head of the commanding general to the President. In doing this he would be proceeding close to the farthest line of military insubordination and he must, in consequence, be careful. After some reflection he sent one evening for his aide and political champion, Colonel A. R. Boteler.

  Jackson laid out his appraisal: The Army of the Potomac was beaten; the Federals would not resume the offensive until they were reinforced; Richmond was safe; the offensive proposed by him in May should be launched. At this point Jackson’s caution and military training
prompted a disclaimer: While Boteler must tell all this to the President, he must make it plain that Jackson was not self-seeking in urging persistently this offensive. He was willing to follow any leader Davis might designate. Boteler interposed: What was the use of going to Mr. Davis; he would only refer the matter to Lee. “Why don’t you yourself speak to General Lee upon the subject?”

  He had already done so, Jackson admitted: “He says nothing.” At Boteler’s further prompting, he added: “So great is my confidence in General Lee that I am willing to follow him blindfolded. But I fear he is unable to give me a definite answer now because of influences at Richmond, where, perhaps, the matter has been mentioned by him and may be under consideration. I, therefore, want you to see the President and urge the importance of prompt action.”36

  Congressman Boteler went to the President and repeated Jackson’s argument. Davis was no more prepared than was Lee to say that the Confederacy could muster immediately in northern Virginia sufficient force to assume the offensive. At the moment the task was to halt Pope. What part of Lee’s forces could perform that mission so readily as the Army of the Valley? Jackson could not be allowed sufficient troops for the early invasion of the North, but he could be given again the semi-independent status in which he had shone. His aptitude fitted the strategical necessities.

  Orders were issued on July 13 for entraining Jackson’s and Ewell’s divisions, less Taylor’s brigade. Six days later Jackson reached Gordonsville and saw again the Blue Ridge. Was he glad for other reasons than those of health to be away from a “malarious region”? Had he learned while in front of Richmond to cooperate willingly, or had he chafed? Not one line did he write, not a word did he speak that disclosed his mind. Curious posterity will never know whether, in his heart of hearts, a battle was raging between ambition for independent command and a purpose to discipline his own spirit for labor with Lee and Lee’s other lieutenants in the achievement of Southern independence.