Lee's Lieutenants

by Douglas Southall Freeman

  Stuart’s orders on June 7: Prepare for review tomorrow by the commanding general on the same field at Brandy Station. Lee had arrived and wished to see in what condition were officers and men for the next hard adventure across the Potomac. Stuart now had the satisfaction of welcoming formally the notables he had missed at the first review. General Lee rode magnificently on the field. After him came Longstreet and the other leading figures of the First and Second corps. The review went well enough as far as it went. Stuart could see that Lee observed keenly and proudly the marching squadrons, but there was no gallop, no yelling, no service of the guns. Lee forbade that. The horses needed their flesh, the gunners their powder. Let the march past be at a walk. If tame in comparison with the display of the fifth, it was still a vast show of strength.21

  With the review over, equipage was packed for an early move on the morning of June 9. Lee was about to start Ewell and Longstreet for the Potomac; the cavalry were to cross the Rappahannock to cover the march. On the night of the eighth, at his headquarters on Fleetwood Hill, Stuart made final preparations. Across the Rappahannock not a campfire was visible to suggest that the enemy’s cavalry had sensed the movement of Lee’s army and begun reconnaissance. Postings for the night, in anticipation of the morning march, placed Grumble Jones’s pickets at Beverly Ford, a major crossing of the Rappahannock about a mile and a half above the O. & A. railroad bridge. Kelly’s Ford, four miles down the Rappahannock from the railroad crossing, was in the care of Beverly Robertson’s pickets. The dispositions of Stuart’s five brigades were made in the belief that the front was safe and the enemy remote.

  Just at the cool, hazy dawn of June 9, Stuart on Fleetwood Hill heard the sound of firing from the direction of Beverly Ford. The enemy must be crossing. There could be no other explanation. Soon a dashing courier on a panting horse brought the news from Grumble Jones: The Federals were on the south side of the Rappahannock at Beverly Ford and were advancing in strength. Jeb immediately directed that the wagon trains be started for Culpeper and prepared to reinforce Grumble.22

  The Federals began to deploy, but before they opened an attack Stuart received two messages that the enemy was crossing at Kelly’s Ford, four miles downstream. He sent reinforcements in that direction and summoned all his other troopers to the front and upstream flank of the Federals who had moved toward Brandy Station by way of Beverly Ford. The situation seemed entirely in hand when Grumble Jones sent word of a threatened attack on the right flank by troops that had crossed below Beverly Ford. Stuart’s pride and his dislike of Grumble probably shaped his answer: “Tell General Jones to attend to the Yankees in his front, and I’ll watch the flanks.” Jones’s reply was: “So he thinks they ain’t coming, does he? Well, let him alone; he’ll damn soon see for himself.”23

  About noon a courier spurred to Stuart from Major McClellan, who had been left at Fleetwood: Hostile cavalry in strength, the staff officer reported, was almost at Brandy! Stuart had confidence in Henry McClellan, but he was incredulous. He told an aide to “ride back there and see what this foolishness is about!” The man had hardly gone when a headquarters clerk, Frank Deane, galloped up. “General,” cried Deane, “the Yankees are at Brandy!”

  In mocking confirmation, there rolled down from the hill the sound of rapid fire. Stuart immediately ordered two regiments of Jones’s brigade back to Fleetwood, and started after them himself. As soon as he got out of the woods his mood must have become grim. A long column was in sight, mounting Fleetwood Hill boldly. Stuart snapped out orders for one and then a second of Wade Hampton’s regiments to ride at a gallop for the heights—a superfluous order, as it proved, because the South Carolinian had seen the Union troopers and already was withdrawing to meet them.24

  A fine situation, surely, this was for the day after a review. The most distinguished regiments of the cavalry division caught in the rear while engaged heavily in front! Nothing but hard, stand-up combat would win the field now. Stuart saw that all his cavalry and all his artillery must be massed on Fleetwood if he was to hold it against an adversary who, most incredibly, had assumed the offensive. Repulse of a sharp attack by the 6th Virginia demonstrated that the Federals were in strength and, prisoners said, were of the division of David Gregg, who had crossed at Kelly’s Ford.

  As the Federals surged forward, Confederates who looked from Fleetwood saw a sight that made veterans catch their breath and lift their hats in admiration. Hampton’s regiments were coming up in magnificent order. On the right was Cobb’s Legion under Pierce Young; in support was Black’s 1st South Carolina; on the left were the 1st North Carolina and the Jeff Davis Legion. Sweeping in splendor across the field abreast of Hampton’s column was Hart’s horse artillery. The enemy threw themselves at the column and almost immediately there was a rolling melee, confused by smoke and dust; but when this cleared, Hampton still was advancing. The enemy was falling back toward Brandy Station. To clear the ground adjoining the station became the next task of Stuart. This was undertaken in a charge by the IIth Virginia of Jones’s brigade.

  The battlefield of Brandy Station.

  This charge would have removed Stuart’s last concern had not a new development come. All day he had been on the lookout for Federal infantry, assigning Captain Blackford the special duty of watching for any evidence of their presence. “It was not long,” said Blackford, “before I found them with my powerful field glasses deployed as skirmishers….” On Stuart’s orders, Blackford rode six miles to Longstreet’s headquarters, whence the intelligence was communicated to Lee. Rodes’s division was started for Brandy.25

  While Rodes was marching, Stuart’s position on Fleetwood was being consolidated. Hampton, Jones, and all the horse artillery were deploying on the ridge. Rooney Lee held position on the left of Jones. Against the front of these three brigades, increased to four by the late arrival of Fitz Lee’s brigade, the Federal under Gregg were wise enough not to shatter their weary squadrons. Before Rodes got to Brandy, the enemy was withdrawing toward Beverly Ford. The Battle of Brandy Station was over. A mellow glow after sunset, a “burnished and glowing horizon,” ended in splendor an ugly day. Stuart’s casualties had been 523. Those of the Federals subsequently were ascertained to be 936, of whom 486 were prisoners of war, and three guns lost.26

  By his campfire, Stuart had to ask how Gregg had eluded Beverly Robertson, who had been sent toward Kelly’s Ford for the very purpose of blocking an advance from that direction. The facts, as finally developed, were that when Robertson learned that the Federals were moving toward Brandy and the railroad by roads to the south of him, he made what Stuart subsequently pronounced the wrong decision. Had he sent part of his force southward with promptness, he might have caught Gregg on the flank. Instead, Robertson reasoned that he could not divide his small brigade or abandon the road he was covering. He remained where he was, and was not at any time actively engaged.27

  A report more distressing than Robertson’s was made by the 2nd South Carolina and 4th Virginia, which had been sent to Stevensburg, five and a half miles south of Brandy Station. In a confused, far-spreading fight, their 500 men had held off a column under Colonel Alfred N. Duffié, but they had paid with the loss of valuable officers. Lieutenant Colonel Frank Hampton of the 2nd South Carolina, Wade Hampton’s brother, was mortally wounded. Captain Will Farley, Stuart’s legendary chief scout, had a leg severed by the shot of a Federal fieldpiece. “He called me to him,” wrote a comrade, “and pointing to the leg that had been cut off by the ball, … asked me to bring it to him. I did so. He took it, pressed it to his bosom as one would a child, and said, smiling—‘It is an old friend, gentlemen, and I do not wish to part from it’…. Courteously, even smilingly, he nodded his head to us as the men bore him away. He died within a few hours.” Other reliable scouts Stuart had and still others he developed, but there never was in the cavalry division another scout who in every quality was the peer of Farley.28

  Jeb Stuart was humiliated more deeply than ever he had been i
n his campaigning, humiliated and, if not disillusioned, disconcerted. The Federal cavalry never had battled so hard and never had stood up so stubbornly. Most of the day they had held the offensive and had given as good as they had taken. Stuart had fought his heaviest battle after thunderous, demonstrative reviews of more troops than ever had been under his command. Instead of a thrilling victory that every man in the army would have to acclaim, there was sarcastic talk of an exposed rear and of a surprise!

  The commanding general understood. Stuart was sure of that. Fair-minded men took into account the final victory though they did not ignore the surprise. Stuart never saw what his West Point classmate, Dorsey Pender, wrote, but he must have heard echoes of similar comment. Said Pender: “I suppose it is all right that Stuart should get all the blame, for when anything handsome is done he gets all the credit. A bad rule either way. He however retrieved the surprise by whipping them in the end.”29

  The Examiner in Richmond harped on “the late affair at Brandy Station.” Its words stuck in Stuart’s mind and rankled: “tournament … vain and weak-headed officers … surprise … reorganization … more earnestness on the part of officers.” Jeb would show whether the criticism was justified!30

  CHAPTER 25

  Across the Potomac Again

  1

  AS IF A SECOND JACKSON HAD COME

  Stuart’s humiliation in the Battle of Brandy Station did not delay the advance of the Army of Northern Virginia toward the Potomac. On June 10, Ewell’s Second Corps set the pace at a brisk staccato, and the divisions of Allegheny Johnson, and Early reached the vicinity of Winchester on the thirteenth. Their prey was a Federal force of an estimated 6,000 to 8,000 men under Major General Robert H. Milroy. The division of Rodes was directed to Berryville, where it was hoped he could capture an outpost of 1,800. With Rodes moved the 1,500 cavalry of Albert G. Jenkins, newcomers from western Virginia.

  Reconnaissance by Ewell on the morning of June 14 showed no Federal troops anywhere near except west of Winchester, on ground from which Ewell had planned to launch his attack against the known fortified positions to the north and northwest. Old Bald Head did not swear at this discovery. He had broken that bad habit, of which Mrs. Ewell had disapproved. Oaths did not become a professed Christian, successor to the sainted Jackson. So, instead of oaths, the crippled Ewell drove to Early’s position.

  Old Jube had fight in his black eyes. He had seen the Federals, damn ’em, on that high ground he coveted. Their chain of fortifications was strong, but, he explained, it was vulnerable! He pointed to Little North Mountain. From its cover, said Early, he believed he could silence the guns in the westernmost of the forts; and that commanded the main defense, what the Confederates called the Flag Fort. He would run out his guns, capture the west fort, then drive the Federals out of the Flag Fort.1

  Old Bald Head listened, surveyed the ground, pondered, assented promptly. He saw to it that Johnson occupied the enemy while Jube marched by a concealed, circuitous route to Little North Mountain. All this was done as briskly and with as much decision as if Jackson himself were directing the movement. By six o’clock Dick Ewell was awaiting the attack and jumping about more impatiently than ever. Early snapped a command. His artillerists bent their backs to the gun wheels. Out into the open rolled twenty pieces. Almost at the same instant, all twenty guns roared, to the amazement of the startled Federals in the west fort. But there was scant delay in meeting the challenge of Early’s guns. Sixteen shells to the minute the Federals soon were sending.

  It was a gallant but not too long a duel. In forty-five minutes the Federal fire died away. Now, Hays! In a few minutes Hays was through the abatis, his cheering men were leaping over the parapet, they had the guns, they were turning them. The fort was Hays’s! The bluecoats were running, taking refuge in the Flag Fort. Dick Ewell, his field-glasses glued to his eyes, thought he saw Jube among the first to mount the parapet. “Hurrah for the Louisiana boys! There’s Early! I hope the old fellow wont be hurt!” As he spoke he felt a thud, a shock. He had been hit squarely in the chest, but by a spent ball, which inflicted no worse hurt than a bruise.2

  It troubled Ewell not at all. His mind was on the probable effect of the capture of the west fort. It might induce Milroy to retreat under protecting darkness. Then, by the bones of the mighty Stonewall, the enemy must be pursued! Milroy would have to leave Winchester via the turnpike to the north. Johnson must march in the night with his division and get across the enemy’s line of withdrawal. If Milroy did not retreat, Johnson must be sufficiently close to Winchester to have a hand at dawn in supporting Early.

  By 3:30 A.M. on the fifteenth the head of Allegheny Johnson’s column was near Stephenson’s Depot on the Winchester and Potomac Railway, close by the turnpike. Johnson with his staff pushed on to reconnoiter. In a moment they heard the neighing of horses and the mumble of voices, then pistol shots from a dim file encountered in the road. Milroy it must be—he must be bagged! Maryland Steuart should go to the right, Nicholls’s Louisianians should extend to the left. Dement’s battery would be in support. Quick the deployment was, but none too quick, because now, with a cheer and heavy volleys, the Federals determined to cut their way through to the Harper’s Ferry road. Such an attack was gore and glory for Old Allegheny. He waved his long walking stick and shouted encouragement to his troops.

  Milroy gave thought to changing his tactics and trying to envelop the flanks, but his chance vanished when Walker came up on the right. The commander of the Stonewall Brigade had not received notice of the division’s march, and had not started from Winchester till midnight. Hastening forward, he formed on Steuart’s flank. Two regiments of Nicholls’s brigade in reserve were brought up simultaneously. The timing and the placing of these reinforcements were as perfect as a textbook example. Milroy with 200 or 300 cavalry got away. The other Federal troops, confused by the swirling melee, began to surrender. Soon the prisoners numbered more than 2,300. Old Allegheny himself could not refrain from the pursuit, and asserted afterward that he had taken thirty prisoners “with his opera glass.”3

  Back in Winchester, almost in the words of Jackson, Ewell called on the troops to “unite … in returning thanks to our Heavenly Father for the signal success which has crowned the valor of this command.” Chaplains were directed to hold religious services, but as the day was Monday, Ewell thriftily enjoined that thanks be returned “at such times as may be most convenient.” He lingered long enough in Winchester to attend a celebration on the afternoon of the sixteenth, when rejoicing soldiers ran up at the main fort, proudly renamed Fort Jackson, a flag made from captured Stars and Stripes. The provost marshals had corralled by that hour a total of 3,358 prisoners. Ordnance officers had the whole of Milroy’s artillery—four 20-pounder Parrotts, seventeen 3-inch rifles, two 24-pounder howitzers. More than that scarcely could have been asked in compensation for Confederate losses that did not exceed 269. “This,” said Jed Hotchkiss, “has been one of the most complete successes of the war; our men behaved splendidly.” Honors were equally divided. The general plan had been that of Ewell, who knew the ground thoroughly; the execution Early’s and Johnson’s.4

  Enough of flag-raising and yelling and felicitation! The mission of the Second Corps was not in Winchester but across the Potomac. Rodes already was there with his division. He had started for Berryville on June 13 in hopes of capturing that post, but his cavalry commander, Jenkins, was unaccustomed to operating with infantry that marched as fast as Rodes’s men did. Through poor cooperation the Federals escaped from Berryville. Much the same thing happened at Martinsburg, except for the capture of five guns. Jenkins pushed boldly across the Potomac and headed for Pennsylvania. Rodes followed on the sixteenth as far as Williamsport on the Maryland side of the river, where he was to remain till the other divisions overtook him.

  Ewell did not keep Rodes waiting long. Sunset on June 19 found the van of the Second Corps near Hagerstown and the rear on the southern shore of the Potomac. Jackson himself
would not have been ashamed of that advance in June weather. Through all of this Ewell was brisk and diligent. Lee told him if food could be found, the army might follow him into the enemy’s country: “If Harrisburg comes within your means, capture it.” The strategy behind these orders was Lee’s, not Ewell’s, but the aim of the operations was plain: Lee was hoping to lure the Army of the Potomac out of Virginia and to subsist his own forces during the summer on the rich abundance of Pennsylvania. He also sought an opportunity of striking a blow and of compelling the Federal administration to retain in the East, or to recall, troops designated for operations elsewhere. By a vigorous campaign of maneuver, the enemy’s plans for the hot months might be disarranged. Virginia might be free of an enemy who destroyed what he did not consume.5

  Ewell’s part in this was understood, from the outset, to be essentially that of collecting horses and cattle and flour. As it concerned him, the enterprise was primarily an offensive for the benefit of the commissary. Later instructions were more soldierly, and the suggestion that he might be able to capture Harrisburg became in Ewell’s eager mind orders to do so. On the lines of advance the troops encountered no organized enemy, but as they moved deeper into the enemy’s country and took sleek horses and fat cattle, faces grew sullen and words were sharp. Ewell himself noted the acid in the air and wrote teasingly to a cousin whose mother had been born in York, Pennsylvania: “It is like a renewal of Mexican times to enter a captured town. The people look as sour as vinegar and, I have no doubt, would gladly send us all to Kingdom come if they could.” The fatness of the land amazed the Confederates. Said Jed Hotchkiss: “The land is full of everything and we have an abundance.” General needs were met by forced purchase or by formal requisition on the towns.6