by Quint, Ryan;
In the end, Hunter won the race. His men made it to Buford’s Gap and escaped over the Blue Ridge Mountains. Early’s pursuit had failed to destroy Hunter’s defeated Federals.
After his stop in Lexington, Hunter turned his column towards Lynchburg, seen here in an 1853 print. Lynchburg had key railroad connections to southwestern Virginia and needed to be protected. Robert E. Lee looked to send a force under newly promoted Lt. Gen. Jubal Anderson Early (above) to defend Lynchburg. Early took the remnants of the Army of Northern Virginia’s Second Corps and linked up with Breckinridge’s forces. Early’s victory at Lynchburg not only saved the city but sent David Hunter over the Blue Ridge into West Virginia. The road north was wide open. (wac) (loc)
But Early had other plans to turn his mind to. As his corps had raced towards Lynchburg before their climatic showdown, he sent a telegram to Maj. Gen. John C. Breckinridge. “My first object is to destroy Hunter,” Early telegraphed matter-of-factly, but the following line surely caused Breckinridge intrigue, “and the next it is not prudent to trust to telegraph.”
Now that Hunter was defeated, what was Early’s next step? He continued to hold his cards close to his chest, writing to Lee on June 22 that his troops were resting their weary feet but then tomorrow, “will move in accordance with original instructions.”
What were the “original instructions” Early had from Lee? Hunter was defeated, yes, but Lee was currently battling against the Army of the Potomac at the gates of Petersburg, another vital railroad hub for the Confederacy. Was Early to remount his men on trains and bring them back east?
No. Early’s men instead slung their blanket rolls over their shoulders and began to march North on June 23. It wasn’t until Early was in Staunton, 75 miles north of Lynchburg, that he finally confirmed his intentions and orders with Robert E. Lee. “I therefore decided,” Early wrote to his commander, “to turn down the Valley and proceed according to your instructions to threaten Washington and if I find an opportunity—to take it.”
The Shenandoah Valley, designed only to be supplementary to Federal military operations, “holding the leg,” as Lincoln called it, had suddenly become so much more than that.
This monument to Stephen D. Ramseur’s North Carolinians stands not far from the infamous “Bloody Angle” at Spotsylvania Court House. Speaking of heavy fighting on May 12, 1864, it stands as a reminder of the type of experienced forces that Jubal Early brought north with him in the summer of 1864. (rq)
The March North
CHAPTER TWO
LATE JUNE 1864
As he moved North, Jubal Early reformed his forces and retitled his command the Army of the Valley District. Marching with Early were some of the best combat troops the entire Confederacy had to offer in 1864.
The high standards started with Early himself. Born in Virginia in 1816, Early went to the Military Academy at West Point, graduating in 1837 (but not before a dispute that saw future Confederate general Lewis Armistead smash a plate over Early’s head), and then serving with the 3rd U.S. Artillery. Early fought against the Seminoles in Florida and took part in the Trail of Tears, the forced removal of Cherokee Indians. Resigning from the army in 1838, Early entered law, but returned to service at the outbreak of the Mexican War in 1846, serving until the war’s conclusion in 1848.
With the sectional crisis splitting the country in 1860, Early went to Virginia’s secession debates as a Unionist, but when the Old Dominion seceded in the wake of Fort Sumter, Early threw his lot in with his state. He commanded a brigade of infantry at the war’s first big battle, First Bull Run, starting a combat record with the Confederacy that saw him fight at nearly every major battle in the war’s Eastern Theater.
By late June 1864, Early had only commanded the Second Corps for about a month because its previous commander, Richard S. Ewell, was forced to take medical leave because of debilitating dysentery. Though short on tenure as corps commander, Early still had an impeccable reputation as a hard fighter, and an equal reputation for profanity. “Very rough in language,” one Confederate described, Early was a “great swearer and curser.” Because of the temper and profanity, Lee referred to Early as his “bad old man.” Harsh arthritis and rheumatism that stooped Early also certainly made him look much older than 48 in the summer of 1864. To his soldiers though, Early was “Old Jube.”
One representation of the average infantryman in the Army of Northern Virginia during the summer of 1864. He has rid himself of all but the necessitates, wrapping spare clothes and personal belongings in a blanket roll over his shoulder. (jw)
Those soldiers were the ones that Early now depended on to threaten Washington, D.C. Early reformed them for the campaign, but it would be a hard task. The spring campaigns of 1864 played havoc with the Army of Northern Virginia’s ranks—the Second Corps entered the campaign’s first battle at the Wilderness with some 17,000 men but now could only muster about 8,000 muskets. It is not totally clear how many men Early took with him down the Valley, although estimates range from between 16,000-20,000. Besides the Second Corps’s three infantry divisions, Early had Breckinridge’s one infantry division, four brigades of cavalry under the command of Maj. Gen. Robert Ransom, and thirty-five pieces of artillery headed by Brig. Gen. Armistead Long.
For his infantry, Early decided to split the four divisions, keeping two as independent commands and putting the remaining two divisions under an ad hoc corps commanded by Breckinridge.
Major Generals Robert E. Rodes and Stephen D. Ramseur commanded Early’s independent divisions. Both commanders were extremely experienced, having steadily risen through the ranks of the Army of Northern Virginia. Both of their commands, however, had been whittled down to almost nothing—numbering more in the range of brigades than divisions. Even with their small numbers, Rodes and Ramseur would prove strong subordinates for Early.
Breckinridge, James Buchanan’s vice president, hailed from Kentucky. Serving as a senator for his state at the outbreak of war, Breckinridge needed to pick sides as the war got underway—a decision not as clear-cut as it had been for Early because Kentucky did not secede. Breckinridge threw his lot in with the new Confederacy, earning an official condemnation from the U.S. Senate: “Whereas John C. Breckinridge, a member of this body from the State of Kentucky, has joined the enemies of his country, and is now in arms against the government he had sworn to support . . . Resolved, That said John C. Breckinridge, the traitor, . . . hereby is, expelled from the Senate.” Breckinridge fought for the first half of the war in the Western Theater, seeing action at Shiloh, Stones River, Chickamauga, and Chattanooga, before transferring to Virginia.
Lt. Gen. Richard Ewell had commanded the Second Corps through the opening stages of the Overland Campaign, but dysentery forced him to relinquish command to Jubal Early. He would oversee Richmond’s defenses for the rest of the war. (loc)
For the time being, Breckinridge continued to command his own division, although Brig. Gen. John Echols would assume leadership near the Potomac River, leaving Breckinridge to oversee the corps. Echols’s command was destined to miss the entire battle of Monocacy, while Breckinridge’s other division, made up of Maj. Gen. John B. Gordon’s three brigades, were fated to be in the heaviest and bloodiest fighting on the field.
In a war where the overwhelming number of generals came from military academies, John Brown Gordon serves as a notable exception. Hailing from Georgia, Gordon had absolutely no military experience when the war began, starting his service as captain of the “Raccoon Roughs,” a company in the 6th Alabama. Like Rodes and Ramseur, Gordon also rose through the ranks, bearing the scars to prove it as well: at the battle of Antietam in September, 1862, Gordon was shot an astonishing five times. In the aftermath of the battle of Spotsylvania Court House, where the Second Corps fought in the horrendous Mule Shoe and its infamous Bloody Angle, Gordon was given command of a reorganized division of infantry containing, amongst others, the Stonewall Brigade and Louisiana Tigers. At one time some of the best tr
oops in the entire Army of Northern Virginia, the Stonewall Brigade and Tigers now were mere shadows of their former selves as a result of the bloodletting in the Overland Campaign.
Two of the best division commanders in the Army of Northern Virginia, Maj. Gens. Robert Rodes (left) and Stephen Ramseur (right) were both ready for whatever orders Early had for them. They both commanded independent divisions, whereas Early’s other infantry commands were folded into a corps under Breckinridge. (fsnmp)(fsnmp)
In a similar fashion to Breckinridge’s corps of infantry, various experiences and combat roles awaited Maj. Gen. Robert Ransom’s cavalry division. While the Confederate troopers skirmished extensively in the days prior to the battle, only one of Ransom’s four brigades of cavalry—Brig. Gen. John McCausland’s—would see action at Monocacy. Ransom, while just as experienced as his infantry commander cohorts, was “in bad health ever since leaving Lynchburg” and resigned soon after the upcoming campaign.
Deciding factors in the action to come were the guns under the command of Brig. Gen. Armistead Long. Overseeing three battalions of artillery, encompassing nine batteries, Long wielded immense firepower on any battlefield. Trained artillerists from Virginia and Georgia manned the guns.
As Early moved his men north, Federal forces left them unopposed in the last days of June. Because Hunter had retreated through the Blue Ridge, he managed to take himself entirely out of the campaign for the foreseeable future. “I was glad to see Hunter take the route to Lewisburg,” Early later wrote in his memoirs, “as I knew he could not stop short of the Kanawha River, and he was, therefore, disposed of for some time. Had he moved to Southwestern Virginia, he would have done us incalculable mischief, as there were no troops of any consequence in that quarter, but plenty of supplies at that time. I should, therefore, have been compelled to follow him.”
* * *
Breckinridge’s infantry commanders, Maj. Gen. John B. Gordon (left) and Brig. Gen. John Echols (right). Gordon would see the heaviest fighting at Monocacy; Echols would see none. (loc)(loc)
Just because the Confederates were unopposed, their movement was by no means a secret. On June 29, the telegraph line clacked back towards Washington, D.C. “I find from various quarters statements of large forces in the Valley,” the telegram started. “Breckinridge and Ewell are reported moving up. I am satisfied the operations and designs of the enemy in the Valley demand the greatest vigilance and attention.”
The man responsible for sending the telegram was not an officer in the Union army, but rather, a civilian. John W. Garrett served as president for the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad (B&O), a line that ran from Baltimore to Parkersburg, West Virginia. It proved a critical connection to the central United States, and Garrett worried what a Confederate force could do to it.
Garrett’s warning, however, went unheeded. In Washington, Chief of Staff Henry W. Halleck sent along the warning to Grant, then at City Point, near Petersburg, Virginia. “There are conflicting reports about the rebel forces in the Shenandoah Valley. Some say that Breckinridge and [George E.] Pickett are following the cavalry . . . while others say they are not in the Valley at all. It certainly would be good policy for them (while Hunter’s army is on the Kanawha) to destroy the [B&O], and make a raid in Maryland and Pennsylvania.”
Not feeling well, Maj. Gen. Robert Ransom would resign soon after the coming campaign. His cavalry brigades screened Early’s movement north, but he was personally a non-entity in the coming battles. (fsnmp)
Brig. Gen. Armistead Long commanded the 35 or so cannon that Early brought north. Long’s gunners would dominate the battlefield at Monocacy, helping to push back Federal forces. He would also serve as Robert E. Lee’s military secretary. (loc)
President of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, John Washington Garrett worried about the safety of his tracks and was left unsatisfied with the Federal high command’s seemingly apathetic reaction to word of Confederates marching north. He sought help elsewhere. (mnb)
An hour and a half after getting Halleck’s message, late at night on July 1, Grant replied that Early’s “corps has returned here [Petersburg], but I have no evidence of Breckinridge having returned.”
With Grant disregarding the notion of a substantial Confederate force in the Valley, Early’s men had more time to operate unopposed. Not until July 2, when Early’s vanguard reached Winchester, Virginia, 165 miles north of Lynchburg, did they meet resistance from Federals. But the small Federal cavalry unit in Winchester quickly retreated, leaving the city that changed hands the most during the war to experience yet another transition back to Confederate control.
That Federal cavalry belonged to Franz Sigel, the disgraced commander from New Market who now led the Reserve Division out of Harpers Ferry, West Virginia. “There are strong indications of a movement of the enemy in force down the Valley. Our cavalry met those of the enemy to-day at Winchester,” Sigel wrote to Washington, joining Garrett’s choruses of warnings.
Still, Grant did nothing, even replying adamantly two days later, “Early’s corps is now here,” again meaning Petersburg. “There are no troops that can be threatening Hunter’s department,” Grant insisted.
Looking down Shenandoah Street at Harpers Ferry offers a glimpse back in time. (cm)
Finally, John Garrett had had enough. Nearly a week had passed since his first warning, and nothing had been done. Ulysses S. Grant and Henry Halleck both horribly managed the opening of Early’s campaign against Washington, a trend that would continue in the days to come. Realizing he was getting nowhere with the military’s top brass, Garrett decided to see someone else.
He would pay a visit to Maj. Gen. Lew Wallace.
The railroad bridge that crosses the Monocacy today had its platforms built in the 1870s at the same site as the railroad bridge that John Garrett wanted defended in 1864. (cm)
Lew Wallace
CHAPTER THREE
EARLY JULY 1864
About three miles south of Frederick, Maryland, on the western bank of the Monocacy River, the B&O had a railroad junction. Freight and passengers from Baltimore could either continue along the main line, heading to West Virginia, or take the turn and move towards Frederick. To get to the junction from Baltimore, however, a train had to cross an iron bridge that spanned the Monocacy, a winding river that local American-Indian tribes had called the Monnockkesey or Menachkhasu— translated, depending on the source, as “river with many bends” or “‘fortified’ (i.e., fenced, a garden)” [emphasis in original].
In 1862, during the Antietam campaign, Confederates came to Frederick and targeted the B&O bridge, destroying the center span in hopes of preventing Federal reinforcements from Baltimore. It had cost the B&O in excess of $11,000 to fix the destroyed bridge, so in 1864, John Garrett was not so keen on having a repeat performance by marauding Confederate soldiers. No one knew where the Confederates under Early were headed, but Garrett preferred to not take any chances.
Sources are not exactly clear about when Garrett visited Major General Wallace’s Baltimore headquarters, but it likely came on July 2. In his unfinished autobiography, Wallace recalled Garrett’s “calls as significant of important business, bracing myself accordingly.”
Garrett’s bridge over the Monocacy River had already been destroyed once before. During the Maryland Campaign in September 1862, Confederate forces had blown the bridge apart, forcing thousands of dollars in repairs. (loc)(loc)
Today, Lew Wallace is best known for authoring the monumentally bestselling Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ, but in 1864 that book was still sixteen years in the future, and Wallace was struggling to find his place. The 37-year-old major general from Indiana was not West Point trained, instead climbing through the ranks because of natural ability. He had served as a young teenager in Mexico in the late 1840s, and, although he had not seen any combat, still loved the martial lifestyle. As the son of an Indiana governor, Wallace was well connected when the Civil War broke out. First as a colonel, then a brigadier general
, Wallace proved himself capable of command, most notably at the battle of Fort Donelson, in February 1862, along the Cumberland River in Tennessee. Moving to the endangered right flank of the Union line without orders, Wallace earned a major general’s second star on his shoulder, becoming the youngest—at 34, to attain the rank in the Union army up to that time.
That upward projection came to a screeching halt at Shiloh almost two months later. Encamped away from Ulysses S. Grant’s main field army, Wallace’s division received orders to move to the right flank, near Shiloh Church, on the morning of April 6. Wallace’s route to the battlefield remains controversial to this day with a common assertion that he became lost. This is an incorrect assertion— not for a second was Wallace ever lost at Shiloh. But Wallace’s star was soon tarnished by his commanding officers.
Looking for scapegoats, both of Wallace’s superiors at the time, Maj. Gen. Henry Halleck and Grant, pinned blame elsewhere for the high casualties that shocked the country. Halleck hated Lew Wallace for the simple fact that Wallace had never attended an official military academy (Halleck, in fact, hated anyone without that trait, which he thought a fundamental prerequisite to commanding troops in the field). In the days after Shiloh, Halleck blamed the Union army’s high casualties on “bad conduct of officers who were utterly unfit for their places.” This not-so-subtle jab was aimed at men like Wallace—officers with no formal military background.