Lee's Lieutenants

by Douglas Southall Freeman

  In his front, on the right, was a clump of cedar trees on a knoll that dominated the little valley. That clump of trees, Early decided at a glance, was an excellent artillery position, and a staff officer was dispatched to bring up a battery. As Early continued to examine the ground, two things troubled him. One was the distance between his right flank and the brigades Ewell was advancing over the shoulder of Cedar Mountain. The interval was a mile, a dangerously long mile. It must be protected by more than the battery he intended to place among the cedars. A brigade should be there: Early sent Jackson a request for that reinforcement.

  The second condition disturbing Early was uncertainty of what might be going on beyond a little watercourse in his front. Above the fields beyond the branch was a crest similar to the one that covered Early’s line of battle. Were Union infantry waiting behind that farther ridge? It was ground that might lend itself to surprises, ground that should be watched. Early counted the Federal guns by the smoke from their fire, and kept a vigilant eye for any sign of the presence of infantry.19

  Old Jube had not been on the lookout long when up the Culpeper Road on his left came three fieldpieces. Well enough! Put them in the grove of cedars. A few minutes more and the three pieces were blazing away. The immediate prospect on his front was for nothing more than an artillery duel. Was a different adventure ahead for Winder’s men? Apparently the sick but careful Winder did not think infantry action was imminent, and he took his time with the dispositions of his brigades to the left of the Culpeper Road. He decided it would be possible to advance guns along the road, opposite Early’s left, and to occupy, perhaps even to overwhelm, the Federal batteries. The prospect of this seemed the brighter because Ewell’s batteries on Cedar Mountain now had added their fire to that of the three pieces in the clump of cedars. Major Snowden Andrews, Winder’s chief of artillery, brought up the best guns available.20

  The artillery duel now began in earnest. Winder kept his binoculars to his eyes, watched the fall of the Confederate projectiles, and called the correction of the range. The fire was beginning to have effect now; the Federal batteries were changing position. Winder turned to give new directions to the boys serving Poague’s nearest Parrott rifle. In the din his words were inaudible; he put his hand to his mouth to repeat the order. At that instant a shell passed through his left arm and side and mangled him frightfully, mortally. With his frame in a spasmodic quiver, he fell straight back, full length.21

  Taliaferro was notified at once that the command had devolved on him—on him who knew nothing of Jackson’s plan of action beyond what he could see for himself. He may not have been informed of an ominous warning from Jubal Early, who had caught the glint of the bayonets of a Federal column moving through the woods toward the Confederate left; an attack might be launched at any time against that exposed wing of the army. A reconnaissance of his own did reveal a blue line in a cornfield opposite Early, and Taliaferro shifted some of his regiments to face the flank. He also ordered up the Stonewall Brigade from the reserve.

  Thus far—it was about 4:30 P.M.—no Federal attack had developed in the quarter where Early had seen the moving enemy infantry. The action continued to be one of artillery. More guns were added now on the center, and rashly added. A. P. Hill, hearing the fire ahead, ordered forward the long-range guns of the division. Two batteries managed to push through the crowded roadway and into an open field on Early’s left. There, quickly and defiantly, without any infantry support, the guns were unlimbered. Horrified, Early saw the Federals begin to creep forward to capture so recklessly exposed a prize. Old Jube did not hesitate. In his high penetrating voice he ordered his brigade to advance at the double-quick to the batteries. They fired, they raised a yell, they won the race. Thus delivered, the gunners redoubled their efforts.22

  Battlefield of Cedar Mountain, or Slaughter’s Mountain, August 9, 1862.

  At 5:45 from the left there came the tearing sound of infantry volleys, a terrific, rolling din. Those Federals, the glint of whose bayonets Early had seen, were attacking. It was reported they had turned the left of Thomas Garnett’s brigade and were closing in on its rear. In front of Early, too, and of Taliaferro’s own brigade, the enemy was advancing. An assault was being made against the center and the left; the infantry battle was on. Every commander must look to his own command, and Jackson to the whole!

  Early hurried to his right to straighten his line; Taliaferro counterattacked immediately with his brigade and the right of Garnett’s. Across Early’s rear and toward his right—as if timed for that dramatic moment—there moved Thomas’s brigade, the reinforcements Jackson had promised. Welcome they were! The right and center of Jackson’s line now could be maintained, probably—if the left held.23

  The left did not hold. Soon, through the woods, panting and begrimed Confederates began to appear. Some were bloody, many were without arms. All had the same story to tell: The 1st Virginia battalion and the 42nd Virginia had broken. No organization existed on the left. Now the enemy was taking Taliaferro in the rear. Hill’s two batteries withdrew swiftly. Back went Taliaferro’s brigade. His retreat exposed the left of Early. Was it a second Kernstown—or worse? That wing of the Army of the Valley appeared to be close to rout. Jackson realized it—order the rifled guns to the rear before the enemy took them; rally Taliaferro and Garnett. Where was the Stonewall Brigade? How close at hand was Hill? Could not Ewell attack?

  Into the confusion on the eastern fringe of the wood Jackson spurred his horse. For the first time in the war he was seen to wave his saber. In the spirit of Joshua he cried: “Rally, brave men, and press forward! Your general will lead you. Jackson will lead you. Follow me!” Bullets were flying in three directions. No man was safe, nowhere was shelter. Taliaferro hastened to Jackson’s side and insisted the commanding general should not expose himself. For a moment Jackson hesitated and then with his habitual, “Good, good!” he turned to the rear.24

  Little by little the center began to mend. After 6 o’clock it was now, the sun blood-red in the west, the situation still at touch-and-go, but the din that came from the left was beginning to change in pitch. Through the wood there rolled the sound of a volley and snatches of a rebel yell. The Stonewall Brigade was up at last. It was driving the Federals, but its ranks were thin and its flanks were in the air. Could it press on?

  Of its progress and of its danger the commanding general was unaware. After Taliaferro protested his presence at the front, Jackson had ridden in search of the leading brigade of Hill’s division, the general reserve. Soon he found it—Branch’s North Carolinians, in line of battle west of the road. Few words he had for Branch: The left wing was beaten and broken, Jackson said; the enemy had turned the flank. “Push forward, General, push forward!” Branch cried, “Forward, march!” and the brigade moved on the instant. Ere he had gone 100 yards he met fugitives—fugitives of the Stonewall Brigade itself! The 27th Virginia, its right assailed by the enemy, had broken and run. Ranks were opened to permit the fleeing men to pass, and Branch’s regiments crashed onward in the forest. Once he threw the weight of his fresh brigade against the now exhausted Federals, he cleared them speedily from the gap between Winder’s right and the shattered left of Garnett’s and Taliaferro’s brigades.25

  The latter two were rallied by now. Early had reorganized his left. Slowly these troops began to fight their way northeastward along the Culpeper Road and to the right of it. As they advanced there came a roaring Federal cavalry charge. It was courageous but foolhardy. One volley from Early and Taliaferro and the flanking fire of Branch’s men disposed of it. That was the last thrust of the enemy. Now was Jackson’s turn. He rode along Branch’s line, which had scarcely paused in its advance, and doffed his cap in tribute to them. Archer’s and Pender’s brigades extended the left flank. Ewell on the right advanced en échelon. A general attack by the Confederate left swept back in the twilight of the sultry day the last reserve units of the Federal right.26

  Jackson was determined to make t
he most of the advantage he narrowly had won. In an effort to drive the enemy back to Culpeper that night, he ordered A. P. Hill to take the lead and press steadily forward. Shelling the woods ahead, Hill’s vanguard advanced until it was past 11 o’clock. The moon was bright, but foreboding was in the air. Grumble Jones arrived from Madison Court House with his cavalry regiment and news that a second Federal corps had arrived on the ground. This was enough to stop even Jackson. He ordered the troops to bivouac. In a roadside grass plot he threw himself down. When someone offered him food, he muttered, “No, I want rest, nothing but rest!” Two miles to the rear lay Winder, forever asleep.27

  Jackson awakened, on the tenth of August, to a disturbing reality—two Federal corps in front, one of them fresh! The remainder of Pope’s army might be near at hand. It would be prudent to wait, to bury the dead, to get the wounded safely to the rear, and, of course, to collect all the arms and booty left on the field. Soon afterward, Jackson heard a loud, friendly voice inquiring for the commanding general. It was Jeb Stuart, and most welcome. Jackson had felt himself badly served by Robertson. On the ninth, little or nothing had been done by the cavalry with the army. Jones, not Robertson, had learned of the arrival of Federal reinforcements whose approach should have been discovered much earlier. Readily Stuart undertook to find how many Federals had joined Banks, and after reconnaissance, brought information which led Jackson to conclude that the enemy was too strong to be attacked.

  That night Jackson had campfires lighted all along the front and, while they burned, he led his troops back across the Rapidan. This, he explained later, he did “in order to avoid being attacked by the vastly superior force in front of me, and with the hope that by thus falling back General Pope would be induced to follow me until I should be re-enforced.” Jackson’s hope was not realized. Beyond the Rapidan Pope did not venture.28

  Jackson considered that he had won a success and, in a characteristic dispatch of August 11 to Lee he so asserted. “On the evening of the 9th instant,” he said, “God blessed our arms with another victory.” He had 400 prisoners, one gun, three colors, and a goodly store of small arms to justify his assertion. As for casualties, his dead numbered 229 and his wounded 1,047. This total of 1,276 was not high in terms of the number of troops engaged, but it mounted to 611 in two brigades, Thomas Garnett’s and Taliaferro’s. The Federal losses, in comparison, were 2,381, among whom were the 400 prisoners. Not less than 20,000 Confederate troops had been within easy striking distance on the day of the battle; Banks had on the ground less than half that number.29

  Viewed tactically, the battle should have added nothing to Jackson’s reputation. On the contrary, it might have raised doubts concerning his leadership—that with his superior numbers he should have taken larger advantage of Banks’s gross recklessness. The Federal general had been convinced that a small force confronted him. An opportunity was offered, Banks apparently believed, of winning the field and of effacing the discredit of defeat by Jackson in the Shenandoah Valley. He had hurled three of his four brigades in an assault for which he had not prepared. The initial attack on the Confederate left had been made by no more than three regiments and six companies of a fourth.30

  Why, in these circumstances, had not the assault been crushed at once? How were the two left brigades of Jackson’s army thrown into wild confusion and one of them and part of the other routed? There is one answer only: The Confederate left was not protected with the measure of precaution that should have been expected of a soldier of competence. That flank had been in the air. Although the wood was so thick that surprise might have been expected, no reconnaissance had been made to the left.

  Was this the fault of Jackson, or was it due to the wounding of the divisional commander before the brigades on the left had been deployed fully? Winder’s previous actions make it reasonable to conclude that if he had not been wounded when he was, he would have deployed his left anew and, doubtless, more carefully. After Winder’s fall, Jackson saw quickly the danger to the left, but his instructions seem to have been inadequate. Should not Jackson personally have acquainted himself with conditions on a flank that was threatened and in the air? As for Taliaferro’s share of responsibility, when a senior brigadier is kept in ignorance of the part the division is to play in action, how can he be blamed if, on sudden call, he does not follow a plan he does not know? Jackson’s reticence—not to say secretiveness—was responsible in part for the rout of his left wing.

  Another criticism, and one of definite validity, is that Jackson’s general management of the action was lacking in grasp and control. The picture one gets is wholly at variance with that of Jackson at Winchester. On May 25, Jackson seemed to have his hand on all his brigades, on all his regiments even. At Cedar Mountain, though he outnumbered his adversary two to one, he did not utilize anything like his entire force. Nor did he dominate the field. Except for a hand in rallying the center after it broke, Jackson had a small part in the critical operations of the day. Early fought his battle undirected; Taliaferro received too little counsel from the commanding general. The sole order to Hill was for the dispatch of a brigade to reinforce the center. Is this to be explained on the ground that Jackson was unable personally to direct as many as three divisions, and had not learned, as yet, to share his plans and his responsibility with any of his subordinates except Ewell? Had Lee’s advice to him, when Hill was sent to Gordonsville, been based on the belief that Jackson’s handling of his enlarged command during the Seven Days showed that same deficiency?

  None of these questions was asked in Richmond. When Jackson announced that “God blessed our arms with another victory,” Lee sent his congratulations and assured Jackson, “the country owes you and your brave officers and soldiers a deep debt of gratitude.” Jackson himself ordered a day of thanksgiving in the army. Neither his thanksgiving nor the satisfaction of the Confederate government was marred by the withdrawal behind the Rapidan. Pope’s assertion of victory and his publication of General Halleck’s congratulations on his “hard earned but brilliant success against vastly superior numbers” were received with ridicule by the Southern people. The Battle of Cedar Mountain, rightly or not, confirmed the faith of the Southern press in the military prowess of Stonewall Jackson.31

  The incident of the Battle of Cedar Mountain most often mentioned was the death of General Winder. He was carried to the rear past the advancing Stonewall Brigade, whose veterans sorrowfully took their last look at him. McHenry Howard recorded: “Perhaps prompted by this, he asked me how the battle was going, and seemed gratified at my reply. He became quieter presently, and as I walked beside with his hand in mine, I could feel it growing colder…At sundown, with my arm around his neck and supporting his head, he expired, so quietly that I could scarcely mark the exact time of his death.” Said Jackson, “I can hardly think of the fall of Brigadier-General C. S. Winder without tearful eyes.” Lee paid tribute to “the courage, capacity, and conspicuous merit of this lamented officer.”32

  If the loss of Winder deprived Jackson of the best lieutenant he had, Ewell alone excepted, the Battle of Cedar Mountain set a star opposite Early’s name. Old Jube had been the most conspicuous figure on the field. His dispositions, which were as careful as those at Williamsburg had been the reverse, stood flawlessly against the tension of the struggle. Ewell singled out Early for special mention, and urged his promotion. Ewell#8217;s part in the battle, though wholly credible, had been limited by the difficulties of the ground. A. P. Hill had not been permitted to throw into the action the full weight of his division, but into the rout of Taliaferro’s men he had ridden, coat off and sword bared, and had rallied some of those who were fleeing. Zealous though Hill had been, he received scant mention in Jackson’s report.

  If Hill and his men thought this an under-appraisal of their service, they had their secret satisfaction. Branch wrote in his diary with grim pleasure of Jackson’s call for him to save the day. “I had not gone 100 yards through the woods,” wrote Branch, “befo
re we met the celebrated Stonewall Brigade, utterly routed and fleeing as fast as they could run.” The young artillerist Ham Chamberlayne wrote that the Federals “fought miserably and but for a wavering on the part of two Brigades of Jackson’s Division, they would have given us no trouble whatever.” He added, “Several of Jackson’s Regiments behaved very badly, yielding to a mere panic.”33

  What more could A. P. Hill have wished? Had Jackson counted him tardy on his march toward the battle? There could be no complaint of him after he had reached the field of action and had found some of Jackson’s own men running from it.

  3

  JEB STUART LOSES HIS PLUME

  The Battle of Cedar Mountain exposed much and decided nothing. Mr. Lincoln’s advisers were not to be shaken from their belief that they must deprive the Confederates of the advantage of strategic interception. Hal-leck stated the case explicitly in a dispatch to McClellan: “You are 30 miles from Richmond and General Pope 80 or 90, with the enemy directly between you, ready to fall with his superior numbers upon one or the other, as he may elect. Neither can re-enforce the other in case of such an attack.” It had been for this reason that Halleck had decided McClellan must abandon James River and take shipping to some point whence the Army of the Potomac could march easily to form an early junction with Pope. The Fredericksburg area seemed the most convenient point. If Pope could hold the upper Rappahannock while McClellan mustered farther downstream, Halleck hoped “to prevent any farther advance of Lee, and eventually with the combined armies to drive him back upon Richmond.” The reasoning was not changed by the battle. McClellan must move, Pope must stand, the two must unite.34