55. LV.
THE TRAP
“Tell the army to press right on to the Potomac!” had indicated
Jackson's entire programme. He was always in favor of
following up his successes, and pressing a defeated enemy remorselessly:
his object now was to paralyze, if possible, the
entire Federal force in the region. General Banks's column was
driven beyond the Potomac, but a force was at Charlestown, and
at Harper's Ferry a very considerable garrison. Jackson's column
was immediately pushed forward in that direction to finish the work.
We afterward heard that his approach was telegraphed to
Washington, and caused such apprehensions there that the Governors
of the Northern States were called upon for troops to
defend the Capital. It will soon be seen that formidable efforts
were meanwhile being made to cut off and destroy this great
gladiator, whose movements were so sudden, rapid, and threatening.
To return to my rapid outline of events. General Charles
Winder pressed on toward Charlestown with the Stonewall
Brigade, opened upon the forces with his cavalry before they
suspected his presence, and, driving them before him, reached the
vicinity of Harper's Ferry, where, on the next day, Jackson
joined him with the main body.
An attack was instantly determined upon, and a regiment was
sent to occupy Loudoun Heights east of the place; fire had just
been opened; all was ready for the attack, when news came
which put an end to further proceedings.
A rumor seemed to come, blown on the wind, that a storm
was brewing in the rear, and Jackson entered the cars at
Charlestown to return to Winchester.
He had scarcely done so, when a courier rode up at full speed.
“What news?” said Jackson, curtly.
The courier fumbled for his dispatch.
“The enemy are at Front Royal.”
“Good!” said Jackson.
“Colonel Connor is cut off and captured.”
“Very good.”[1]
“Fremont is at Wardensville. Here is the dispatch, General.”
Jackson read it with perfect calmness, crumpled up and
dropped it, and then rapidly wrote an order directing his entire
command to return from Harper's Ferry to Winchester.
Having done so, he bent forward, leaned his head upon the
back of the seat in front of him, and fell asleep.[2]
The cars moved on, and in half an hour he awoke.
“Are we near Winchester, Major?”
“Yes, General.”
“I can get there first—I mean to Strasburg.”
“The march will be hard.”
“Yes, if Fremont is at Wardensville and McDowell at Front
Royal, as that dispatch announced.”
“I don't like to croak, General,” I said, “but it appears to
me that if any time is lost we are cut off.”
“You are right: that would be unfortunate after capturing
such valuable stores. Only one course would remain for me.”
“What is that, General?”
“To fall back upon Maryland for re-enforcements.”[3]
We reached Winchester, and the captured stores were hastily
loaded upon the wagons. The enormous trains were then sent
forward with the long column of Federal prisoners, twenty-three
hundred in number, toward Strasburg, escorted by a regi
ment of infantry, under the brave Colonel Cunningham, afterward
killed at Cedar Mountain.
The army was then rapidly concentrated at Winchester; and
without losing a moment, or waiting for the Stonewall Brigade,
which had held the front at Harper's Ferry, the column hastened
toward Strasburg.
There was something both gallant and grotesque in the spectacle
of the men limping along over the hard stones of the turnpike,
laughing and jesting as they did so. The oddest remarks
came to my ears as I rode along the column, glittering, with its
burnished bayonets, like some huge serpent with silver scales,
as it undulated in the sunshine. “Old Jack ain't cut off yet,”
seemed the most popular view of the situation; and the critical
condition of affairs seemed to be regarded as a good joke. Soldiers
are like children, reader—but for that matter, what men
are not? Your emperors, kings, presidents, and statesmen—
they are all overgrown children.
Jackson's situation was one of very extreme peril. Two
heavy Federal columns were closing in upon his rear, toward
Strasburg—that under General Shields from the east, and that
under General Fremont from the west. The former is known
to have amounted to twenty thousand men, from President Lincoln's
order to General McDowell to “move twenty thousand
men” on the line of the Manassas Gap Railroad, “to capture or
destroy Jackson.” General Fremont's force was probably about
as numerous.
Thus, without counting the forces at Harper's Ferry, Williamsport,
and elsewhere on the Potomac, which would immediately
follow upon his rear, Jackson had in his front about forty
thousand troops, through which it appeared he would certainly
be compelled to cut his way.
His own force was fifteen thousand effective men.[4]
If he was cut off at Strasburg, this force would speedily be enclosed
by a cordon of three armies, under Fremont, Shields, and
Banks, amounting to about seventy thousand men.
Jackson rode at the head of his column, and I could not discern
any unusual emotion in his countenance. His astonishing
nerve enabled him to look calmly in the face of peril which
would certainly have excited most generals, however courageous.
“Move on with the column,” came from the calm lips from
time to time, and soon the towering wave of the Massinutton
Mountain rose before us. Suddenly firing was heard in
front.
Jackson pushed on and entered Strasburg, when a staff-officer
from Ashby galloped up.
“What news?”
“The enemy are advancing, General.”
“Fremont's column?”
“Yes, sir. They are in sight.'
“Tell General Ashby to hold them in check as long as possible.”
The officer saluted and darted off. At the same moment a
courier appeared coming from the direction of Front Royal.
“Well?” said Jackson curtly.
“The enemy are within three miles, General.”
“Infantry or cavalry?”
“Cavalry.”
“Good.” And turning to me, the General, said: “Present my
compliments to General Ewell, and tell him to attack Fremont's
column, at once.”
I was riding off.
“Wait a moment.”
I turned my horse's head.
“Tell him to hold his ground until he is cut to pieces.”
This cheering order I speedily delivered to General Ewell,
who laughed grimly as he threw his division into line of battle.
I returned to Jackson, who was trying to eat a cracker as hard
as iron, as he sat his horse.
“Major, ride up to the top of the hill, and see if you can see
or hear any thing of the Stonewall Brigade. I intend to stay
here until it arrives.”
I rode up and reconnoitred, reaching the hill-top just as the
long roll of musketry west of Strasburg indicated that Ewell
had engaged Fremont.
As far as the eye could see, the turnpike was deserted. No
signs of the missing brigade were seen, and I reported the fact
to Jackson.
“Very good.”
And he rode forward to where Ewell was fighting. He was
heavily engaged with General Fremont's advance force, which
had passed ahead of the main body.
At sight of Jackson, a loud cheer rose from the men, and the
line, instead of merely standing and receiving the enemy's attack,
rushed forward.
Forgetting everything else, Jackson galloped on with the line,
encouraging the men, and, before the impetuous rush of the
Southerners, General Fremont's line fell back.
Jackson halted, and wiped his forehead. As he did so, a courier
hastened up with a dispatch from General Winder. The
Stonewall Brigade would arrive in half an hour.
“Tell the General to lose no time. I am waiting for him.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, General,” he said to Ewell, “we will soon move now.
Keep your command well together; I will withdraw in an hour.”
In twenty minutes the flag of the Stonewall Brigade appeared
upon the hill above Strasburg, and the line of glittering bayonets
wound down the declivity. They had made an enormous march,
but were at last up; and in an hour, as he had notified Ewell,
Jackson put his entire column in motion, just as dispatches from
the right and the left announced that the forces under Shields
and Fremont were pouring forward, and would soon be upon
him.
The wagon train and the prisoners had gone ahead, and the
long column of infantry now followed.
Last came Ashby's column of cavalry. As the rear of the column
reached the high ground beyond the town, the enemy rushed
into Strasburg.
Jackson had extricated himself from the trap.
