CHAPTER VII.A Major-General.

But when they had marched about three miles, General Johnston called a halt, and an order was read to them explaining that they were going to Beauregard, who was then on the eve of a great battle with McDowell. The General hoped that his troops would act like men and save their country.

At these words, the men rent the air with their shouts and went forward at a double-quick, waded the Shenandoah river, which was waist deep, crossed the Blue Ridge mountains at Ashby’s Gap, and some hours after night paused to rest for awhile at the village of Paris, on the eastern slope of the mountains.

Dr. Dabney tells us that here, while the men slept, Jackson himself kept watch, saying, “Let the poor fellows sleep; I will guard the camp myself.” For two hours he paced up and down under the trees, or sat on the fence. At last, an hour before daybreak, he gave up his watch to a member of his staff, and rolling himself upon the grass in a fence-corner, was soon fast asleep.

“Let the poor fellows sleep; I will guard the camp myself.”

At peep of day, the brigade was up and away, and, by dusk on July 19th, the whole command, dusty, hungry, and foot-sore, marched into an old pine-field near Manassas, where they spent Saturday in resting for the coming battle.

The Confederate lines stretched for eight miles along the southern bank of Bull Run, which could be forded at several places. At these fords General Beauregard had placed large bodies of men. On July 18th, before Jackson had come up, General McDowell had tried to take these fords, but his troops had been driven back.

He then made a plan to march a part of his forces around the Confederates’ left wing at a certain stone bridge, and to get in their rear. Being thus between two large forces, the Confederates would be crushed or forced to surrender.

On Sunday morning, July 21st, General McDowell sent forward a portion of his troops to the stone bridge, which was guarded at that time by the gallant Colonel Evans, with only eleven hundred men. After he had fought desperately for several hours, and just as he was outflanked and sorely beset, Generals Bee and Bartow came up to his aid, and for awhile turned the tide of battle.

At last, however, the Confederates were slowly forced back by larger numbers. At this moment, General Jackson reached the spot with his brigade of two thousand six hundred men. These he quickly placed on the crest of a ridge in the edge of a pine thicket, and before them posted seventeen cannon.

Generals Bee and Bartow and Colonel Evans rallied their broken lines on the right; while on the left were a few regiments of Virginia and Carolina troops. The whole force numbered about six thousand five hundred men. The infantry of his brigade were ordered by Jackson to lie down behind the artillery to escape the fire of the enemy, who were now coming across the valley and up the hill with twenty thousand men and twenty-four cannon. Just then, Generals Johnston and Beauregard galloped to the front and cheered the men on in every part of the field.

From eleven o’clock A. M. until three o’clock P. M., the artillery shook the earth with its dreadful roar, and thousands of musket-balls whizzed through the air, black with the smoke of battle.

While the artillery fight was going on, General Jackson rode back and forth between the guns and his regiments lying prone upon the ground in the burning sun, and greatly tried by bursting shell and grape-shot. His erect form and blazing eyes brought hope and courage to them in this their first baptism of fire.

“There is Jackson, standing like a Stone Wall!”

At last General Bee, seeing his thin ranks begin to waver, said, “General, they are beating us back.” “Then,” said Jackson, “we will give them the bayonet.” Bee, catching the spirit of Jackson, galloped back to his men, saying, “There is Jackson, standing like a stone wall! Rally behind the Virginians!” A few score of the men rallied around the gallant Bee and charged upon the foe. In a few moments the brave Bee fell dead, with his face to the foe. “From that time,” says Draper, an historian of the North, “the name which Jackson had received in a baptism of fire, displaced that which he had received in a baptism of water, and he was known ever after as ‘Stonewall Jackson.’”

Both of Jackson’s flanks were now in danger, and he saw that the moment had come to use the bayonet. Wheeling his cannon to right and left, he gave the signal to his men to rise, and cried out to the Second regiment, “Reserve your fire until they come within fifty yards; and then fire and give them the bayonet; and when you charge, yell like furies.”

His men sprang to their feet, fired one deadly volley, and then dashed down upon the foe. The latter could not stand this dreadful onset, but turned and fled. A battery which had been captured by the foe was retaken, and the centre of the enemy’s line of battle pierced by Jackson’s men.

For four hours, Jackson had kept the enemy at bay, but now help was near at hand. Just as the Federals had rallied and again advanced in large numbers, General Kirby Smith, with a body of men which had just come from the Valley, and Generals Early and Holmes, with reserve troops, hurried up and struck the right wing of the Federal army, while the Confederates in the centre turned against them their own guns. This onset proved too much for the Federals. They again fled; and this time, their retreat became a general rout. The men in terror cast away their guns, and leaving cannon and flags, rushed for the nearest fords of Bull Run. The Confederate cavalry pursued them, while Kemper’s field battery ploughed them through and through with shells. The road to Washington was one surging mass of human beings struggling to get away from the dreadful field of death.

General Jackson’s troops took no part in pursuit except to plant a battery and fire at the fleeing foe, many of whom did not stop until they were safe across the Long Bridge at Washington.

Rout of Federal Troops at Manassas.

Though the Confederates were the victors, they had lost many brave men. Generals Bee and Bartow were killed, and General Kirby Smith was badly wounded. General Jackson had been wounded in his left hand early in the action, but had taken no notice of it. Now that the battle was over, he felt the pain acutely, and went to the field-hospital, which had been placed by the side of a brook beneath the shade of some friendly willow-trees.

When he came up, his friend, Dr. McGuire, said, “General, are you much hurt?” “No,” replied he; “I believe it is a trifle.” “How goes the day?” asked the Doctor. “Oh!” exclaimed Jackson, “We have beaten them; we have gained a glorious victory.” Dr. Dabney says that this was the only time that Jackson was ever heard to express joy at having gained the day.

When the surgeons came around him to dress his wounded hand he said, “No, I can wait; my wound is but a trifle; attend first to those poor fellows.” He then sat down upon the grass and waited until the wounds of the badly hurt had been dressed. At first it was thought that his middle finger would have to be cut off, but Dr. McGuire having dressed it very skilfully, it was saved, and his hand at length healed.

It is stated by several friends that General Jackson said, while having his hand dressed, that, with ten thousand fresh troops, he believed that he could go into Washington city. However, as he was not the commanding general, he could not make the attempt, but could only do as he was ordered.

I must not fail to give you a part of a letter which he wrote to his wife the day after the battle, July 22nd:

“Yesterday we fought a great battle and gained a great victory, for which all the glory is dueto God alone. Though under fire for several hours, I received only one wound, the breaking of the longest finger of the left hand, but the doctor says that it can be saved. My horse was wounded, but not killed. My coat got an ugly wound near the hip. * * * While great credit is due to other parts of our gallant army, God made my brigade more instrumental than any other in repulsing the main attack.This is for you alone. Say nothing about it. Let another speak praise, not myself.”

This is for you alone. Say nothing about it. Let another speak praise, not myself.”

But the praise of the Stonewall Brigade was not sung by Jackson alone. Both friend and foe unite in saying that if Jackson had not held the hill, which was the key to the Confederate position, until help came, the battle of Manassas (Bull Run) would have been a defeat, and not a victory for the South.

Jackson’s eagle eye saw the place to make a stand, and he held it for four hours against all odds.

At one time, while his men were lying upon the ground, they were so harassed by the bursting of shells that some of the officers begged to be permitted to advance. “No,” said Jackson, “wait for the signal;this place must be held.”

We do not seek to take glory from other heroes of this wonderful battle, many of whom, as Bee and Bartow, bravely gave up their lives in the storm of battle; or, as Smith and Early, made forced marches in order to rescue those so sorely pressed; but we do say that, in one sense, Jackson was the hero of the first battle of Manassas.

In this battle the Confederates captured twenty-eight cannon with five thousand muskets and vast stores of articles useful to their needy army.

The Confederates lost three hundred and sixty-nine killed on the field, and fourteen hundred and eighty-three wounded.

The road to Washington was now open, and there is no doubt that General Jackson thought it best to press on while the enemy was routed and take possession of the city.

But the commanding generals were afraid to risk the attempt with an army which had been drilled only a few weeks and which had so little discipline; and, thus, the moment to strike passed by.

In a few days the North had chosen a new commander, General McClellan, who set himself to raise new armies to defend Washington and to scourge the South.

Soon after the battle, General Jackson moved his men to a piece of woodland near by, where he employed the time in drilling his troops. After a time the Confederate lines were pushed forward to within sight of Washington city, but no battle took place, as General McClellan was too wise to risk another engagement so soon after Manassas.

In October, General Jackson was promoted to the rank of Major-General, and was sent to the Shenandoah Valley to take command of the army which had been fighting in West Virginia.

The Stonewall Brigade was left behind with General Johnston. This was a great trial, both to General Jackson and to the brigade.

When the time came for him to leave for the new field of war, he ordered the brigade to march out under arms, and then rode to their front with his staff. Dr. Dabney says that no cheer arose, but every face was sad.

After speaking a few words of praise and love, he threw his bridle reins on the neck of his horse, and stretching his arms towards them said: “In the Army of the Shenandoah, you were the First Brigade. In the Army of the Potomac, you were the First Brigade. In the Second Corps of the army, you are the First Brigade. You are the First Brigade in the affections of your General; and I hope, by your future deeds and bearing, you will be handed down to posterity as the First Brigade in this, our second War of Independence. Farewell.”

He then waved his hand, and left the grounds at a gallop, followed by the cheers of his brave soldiers. This separation, however, was for but a short time. In November following, the First Brigade was ordered to join Jackson at Winchester, and it remained with him until the fatal hour at Chancellorsville, when it lost him forever.

Jackson’s military cap, sword, and buttons.

When the year 1862 opened, General Jackson was at Winchester with ten thousand men, Generals Loring and Henry Jackson having come from Western Virginia to join his command.

At the head of Jackson’s cavalry was Lieutenant-Colonel Ashby, a gallant, brave, and watchful officer. At the sound of his well-known shout and the cry of “Ashby,” from his men, the Federal soldiers would turn and flee as if from a host. Ever guarding the outposts of the army, he was Jackson’s “eyes and ears.”

Lieut.-Col. Ashby.

There were now three great armies threatening Jackson, and he well knew that they would crush him if he did not meet each one singly before they could unite.

Jackson’s little army was the guard to Johnston’s flank. The latter general, with forty thousand men, was still at Manassas facing McClellan, who was at the head of an army of fifty thousand men, and preparing, as soon as spring opened, to “walk over Johnston.”

Jackson knew that if his army was defeated, Johnston would have to retreat, and perhaps the whole State would be given up to the foe. The armies were now in winter quarters, and there was not much danger of a move before spring.

In the meantime, Jackson resolved to march against several large forces of Federals which were threatening him from the towns of Romney and Bath, forty miles distant, in Northwestern Virginia.

It was the last of December, however, before he could collect the men and supplies necessary for the expedition.

At last, on the first day of January, 1862, all was ready. The little army of about nine thousand men set out without knowing whither Jackson was leading, for he had not told even his officers his great plans.

In spite of the winter season, the day was bright and the air soft and balmy. So warm was the weather that the men left their overcoats and blankets to be brought on in the wagons. On the next day, a biting wind began to blow, which was followed by rain and snow.

The men marched all day, and at night the wagons, which had not been able to keep up with the troops, were still far behind. The troops rested that night without rations or blankets, having only camp-fires to keep off the cold.

On the third day, the men were so overcome by cold and hunger that they found it difficult to go forward. Jackson, riding grimly along the way, found his old brigade halted, and asked General Garnett the reason of the delay.

“I have halted,” said General Garnett, “to let the men cook rations.”

“There is not time for it,” replied General Jackson curtly.

“But it is impossible for the men to go farther without them,” said Garnett.

“I never found anything impossible with that brigade,” said Jackson as he rode on. He was restive and eager to press forward; his plan to surprise the enemy did not admit of delay.

As the army neared the town of Bath, a force of Federals suddenly attacked it from behind trees and fences, but it was soon driven off with the loss of twenty prisoners.

That night the Southern troops went into camp just outside the town, in the midst of a heavy snow storm. The men were without food or blankets, and the wonder is how they lived through the night.

Jackson, however, did not change his plans, though there was great complaint among the men, many of whom straggled back to Winchester.

The next morning, after a hearty breakfast, the order was given to advance upon Bath. The artillery opened fire and the infantry charged the breastworks, but the Federals hastily gave up the town, and fled towards the Potomac river, which they waded that night.

The Southern troops on entering the town found quantities of stores which the Federals had left behind; among them were fine clothes, china, and even dinners, cooked and still smoking, ready to be eaten by the hungry Confederates.

From Bath, Jackson’s men passed, with great difficulty and suffering, to a place called Hancock, about three miles distant from Bath, on the north side of the Potomac.

Jackson placed his cannon on the south bank and opened a hot fire on the town, but the commander refused to surrender. As a large force of men came up to reinforce the Federals, Jackson concluded to pass on to Romney.

In the meantime, the railroad bridge over Capon river had been destroyed and the telegraph wires cut by General Loring, so that the commander at Romney could not send to General Banks for help.

The weather had now become terrible. Rain, snow, sleet, and hail beat down upon men still without tents, overcoats, and blankets; for it was impossible for the wagons to come up. The mountain roads were covered with ice and sleet so that horses and men could not keep their footing. Many fell flat, badly hurt, while wagon after wagon slid down the steep banks, and was overturned and broken.

Jackson was everywhere along the line cheering the troops and even helping them along. We are told by Cooke, our great Virginia writer, that, as Jackson was passing a point in the road where a piece of artillery had stalled, while a crowd of men were looking on without helping, he stopped, dismounted, and, without uttering a word, put his shoulder to the wheel. The men, shamed, came forward to take their places, the horses were whipped up, and the piece moved on.

After great hardships, the little army at last reached Romney, on the 14th of January, to find that the Federals had retreated, leaving behind them large military stores, which fell into the hands of the Confederates.

Even then, the name of Jackson was a terror to the foe. With a force much larger than Jackson’s, and when he was more than a day’s march distant, the Federals had fled and left the greater part of their baggage.

In sixteen days, he had driven the enemy out of his district, had rendered the railroad useless to the Federals for more than a hundred miles, and had captured arms enough to equip an army as large as his own. This he had done with the loss of four men killed and twenty-eight wounded.

Leaving General Loring at Romney with a portion of the army, Jackson hastened back to Winchester to watch the movements of General Banks, who was stationed, with a large army, near Harper’s Ferry.

Upon his return, he found the whole country in an uproar over the expedition to Romney through the sleet and snow. Though no one could say that Jackson was not full of courage and devotion to the South, many said that he was cruel and not fit to be in command of an army. Some said that he was a madman; others, that he was without common sense. Another charge against him was that he was partial to the Stonewall Brigade, as he had brought it back with him to the comforts of a town, while he had left Loring’s command in the mountains. The soldiers of the brigade were called “Jackson’s Pet Lambs,” and other like names.

Now, the truth was, that Loring’s men were far more comfortable than those of the Stonewall Brigade; the former being ordered into huts, while the latter were in tents, three miles from Winchester.

Another charge against him was that he would tell his plans to no one. “It was his maxim,” says Dabney, “that in war, mystery was the key to success.” He argued that no man could tell what bit of news might not be of use to the foe, and therefore, that it was the part of wisdom to conceal everything.

This secrecy irritated his officers, and it must be said that some of them so far forgot their duty as soldiers as to treat General Jackson with disrespect.

Though all of these charges were known to Jackson, he took no notice of them, but was proceeding to connect Romney with Winchester by telegraph wires when, on January 31st, he received this order from Richmond: “Order Loring back to Winchester at once.”

The cause of this order was that some of the officers at Romney had sent a petition to Richmond asking to be sent back to Winchester, as the position at Romney was, in their opinion, too much exposed.

General Jackson recalled the troops from Romney, but he was so angry at the way in which he had been treated by the government, that he at once resigned his command.

This caused great excitement in the army and in the State at large. The people were by no means willing to give up an officer who had shown so much courage and skill, and they begged him to withdraw his resignation. This he refused to do. He said that the government had shown, by the order, that it did not trust him, and that, if he was to be meddled with in that way, he could do no good. At last, however, a sort of an apology being made by the government, he quietly took up his duties again.

In a few days after General Loring left Romney, the Federals again took possession of that town and the country around. So all the efforts of Jackson and the trials of his soldiers were of no avail. This was a great blow to General Jackson, for Winchester was again exposed to the advance of the foe from four directions.

The plan for the invasion of Virginia in 1862 was the same as in 1861. General Fremont was marching from the Northwest; Banks, from Harper’s Ferry; McDowell, from Fredericksburg; McClellan faced Johnston at Manassas, and another large army was at Fortress Monroe, ready to march up the Peninsula.

The Northern army was much larger than the year before, but the Southern army was smaller, as the time of many of the men had expired and others had gone home on furlough.

Several brigades were now taken from General Jackson to strengthen other points, and he found himself left, with only six thousand men, to guard the left of Johnston’s army and to protect the great Shenandoah Valley.

On the 26th of February, General Banks, with thirty-five thousand men, and General Kelly, with eleven thousand, advanced against Jackson, who was still at Winchester, hoping to hold that place, until help could come from General Johnston. But finding out through Colonel Ashby that he was almost surrounded by the enemy, he left Winchester and fell back slowly to Mt. Jackson, a village on the great turnpike, forty miles from Winchester. Here, he had sent all of his stores and sick soldiers some weeks before; so that, when the Federals entered Winchester, they found not a prisoner or a musket to “enrich their conquest.”

It was a great trial to Jackson to leave his kind friends in Winchester, but he promised them “to wait for a better time and come again.” We shall see how well he kept his promise.

On March 19th, General Johnston wrote to General Jackson at Mt. Jackson, asking him to move closer to the enemy and to prevent him, if possible, from sending troops across to McClellan. Word was brought at the same time, that fifteen thousand men were then leaving the army of Banks to aid in turning the left wing of Johnston’s forces, as he fell back to lines of defense nearer Richmond.

So Jackson gave orders to his little army, which now numbered only twenty-seven hundred men, to march back down the Valley. That night the infantry slept at Strasburg, while Ashby’s men drove in the outposts of the Federals at Winchester.

General Banks, thinking that Jackson would trouble him no more, had left for Washington, and General Shields was in command of the army.

General Jackson, on the morning of March 23rd, pushed forward his whole force, and, when about five miles from Winchester, at a place called Kernstown, he found Ashby fighting furiously with the advance of the foe. Taking a good position, he at once gave battle, though he saw that he was greatly outnumbered. The battle raged from about noon until night. Regiment after regiment was hurled against Jackson’s thin ranks, but they fought stubbornly and would have gained the day, had not the ammunition of the Stonewall Brigade given out. Hearing his fire dying away for want of ammunition, General Garnett gave orders for his men to retreat. When Jackson saw the lines of his old brigade give back, he galloped to the spot, and, ordering Garnett to hold his ground, pushed forward to rally the men. Seeing a drummer boy retreating like the rest, he seized him by the shoulder, dragged him in full view of the soldiers, and said in his sternest tones, “Beat the rally!” The drummer beat the rally, and in the midst of a storm of balls Jackson saw the lines reform.

“Beat the Rally!”

But it was too late. The enemy now pressed forward in such numbers that there was nothing left to do but to retreat. This they did in good order, but the Federals held the field of battle where so many dead and wounded men were lying.

In this battle of Kernstown twenty-seven hundred Confederates, with eleven guns attacked eleven thousand Federals and almost gained the victory. It is said that General Shields had just given orders for his men to retreat when the Stonewall Brigade fell back.

As General Shields followed Jackson up the Valley after the battle, he stopped at a noted country house for the night. General Jackson had also rested there upon his retreat, and from his adjutant the lady of the house had learned the correct number of Jackson’s men.

General Shields, at breakfast, entered into a conversation with his hostess, and in a polite way boasted of his great victory. “Ah! General,” said the lady, “we can afford such defeats as that, when twenty-seven hundred men hold back eleven thousand for hours and then retreat at leisure! Such defeats are victories.” General Shields was surprised to learn the small number of Jackson’s forces, and begged the lady to tell him her informant. “Certainly,” said the lady, “General Jackson’s adjutant, Major Paxton. I have also information that large reinforcements are coming to Jackson and that he will again be ready to meet you.” “I have no doubt of that, my dear Madam,” smilingly returned the General.

Major E. F. Paxton.

That night Jackson’s little army rested near Newtown, while Ashby kept watch not far from the field of battle. “Jackson,” says Cooke, “got an armful of corn for his horse; and, wrapping his blanket about him, lay down by a fire in a fence corner and went to sleep.” Though defeated for the first and last time, he had won the object of the battle. The fifteen thousand men who had started across the mountains to McClellan were recalled to the Valley, and Johnston was able to move safely behind the Rappahannock river, his new line of defense.

At four o’clock on the morning of the 24th, Jackson began to retreat slowly and in good order. The enemy pursued for awhile, but at last fell back to Winchester.

Jackson’s army was far from cast down by the defeat at Kernstown. The soldiers felt that they had made a splendid fight against four times their number. And now, too, for the first time, it began to dawn upon them that their general was a great leader. As Jackson passed along the columns, the men would cheer themselves hoarse.

Cooke tells us that one man was heard to ask, as he struggled along, “Why is Old Jack a better general than Moses?” “Because it took Moses forty years to lead the Israelites through the wilderness, and Old Jack would have double-quicked them through it in three days!”

It is said by another writer, that the men would laugh and say that the only rest they had was when they were retreating before the enemy. He always led them by forced marches when going to attack the foe, but never fast enough on a retreat to lose the chances of a fight.

The weather was now mild and balmy, and the men suffered few hardships during their slow retreat. At last they reached the old camp at Mt. Jackson, where Jackson gathered up his wounded and sent them up the Valley.

On the 1st of April, he crossed the north fork of the Shenandoah, and took position on Rude’s Hill, five miles below New Market.

General Banks had again come up the Valley, and was pressing upon the rear of Jackson’s army.

It was left for Colonel Ashby to burn the bridge near Mt. Jackson, after the Southern army had passed over. While Ashby and his men were engaged in this work, the Federal cavalry dashed up and a skirmish ensued, in which Ashby’s beautiful snow-white charger was mortally wounded.

General Jackson remained at Rude’s Hill until April 17th, when, the waters having subsided so that the Federal army could cross the river, he again took up his line of march through New Market to Harrisonburg. At the last named place he turned east, and, passing the south end of Massanutton mountain, crossed the south branch of the Shenandoah river and posted his troops in the gorge of the Blue Ridge called Swift Run Gap.

The way to Staunton was now open to General Banks, but he was too timid to go forward. Jackson in his rear was worse than Jackson in front of him. So, for two weeks, Jackson held the Gap while Banks occupied Harrisonburg, and laid waste the country around.

Jackson had now about eight thousand men and thirty guns. His men had returned from hospitals and furloughs and also a number of new recruits had poured in to help in this time of danger. The General employed these weeks of rest in organizing and drilling his men and in mending up his old artillery. In the meantime also, he made bold plans, and with the help of General R. E. Lee, who had now been made commander of the “Army of Northern Virginia,” proceeded to carry them out.

Now, in order to understand the great genius of our hero, and the bravery and endurance of his men, you must study the map on the next page.

You will see that the Valley of the Shenandoah is bounded on the east by the Blue Ridge mountains, and on the west by the Alleghany. Winchester is situated in the northern part of the Valley, while Staunton is about ninety miles to the south. These two places are connected by a fine turnpike.

THE SHENANDOAH VALLEY

Now, near the center of the Valley, rises a beautiful mountain which the Indians called Massanutton, and which still retains that name. This mountain begins near Strasburg and extends about fifty miles towards Staunton, ending abruptly not far from Harrisonburg.

There is only one gap in the Massanutton mountain, and that is opposite the towns of New Market and Luray.

The valley east of the mountain is called the Page Valley, while the entire valley, including the Page Valley, is the Shenandoah Valley.

Some of the children who will read this book live under the shadow and in sight of this lovely mountain, which enabled Jackson to play at “hide and seek” with his foe, and I hope they will understand thoroughly the great movements which I shall relate.

Though Jackson and his little army were safe in Swift Run Gap, opposite the village of Elkton, for awhile, they could not have remained there long, as three major-generals, with as many large armies, were marching to surround and crush them. Banks was only fifteen miles distant, Milroy was coming by way of Staunton from Western Virginia, and Fremont from the northwest. General McDowell, at Fredericksburg, was also ordered to send twenty thousand men to the Valley, instead of advancing to help McClellan, who was now near Richmond with a large army. You see, Jackson was bravely obeying General Johnston’s orders to keep the Federals busy in the Valley and to prevent them from reinforcing McClellan.

Now, there was a small force of Confederates, under General Edward Johnson, on Shenandoah mountain, twenty miles west of Staunton. There was great danger that Milroy with his larger army would overcome Johnson, take Staunton, and march on to join Banks. Their two armies would then be large enough to crush Jackson.

Generals Jackson, Johnston, and Lee.

It was also important to keep Staunton out of the hands of the foe, as it was situated on the Chesapeake and Ohio railway, which carried supplies from the fertile Valley to Richmond.

So General Jackson wrote to General Lee that he would go to the help of Johnson and protect Staunton, if he (Lee) would send a force to hold Banks in check during his absence.

This General Lee did, sending from Richmond General Ewell (ū′-el), a brave officer, with eight thousand men, who marched into Swift Run Gap from the east and took the places which Jackson’s men had just left.

It was now Jackson’s object to reach Staunton without the knowledge of Banks, so he marched, with great difficulty, through miry roads, down the mountain about eight miles to another gap across the Blue Ridge, called Brown’s Gap. When there, he turned east and marched swiftly across the mountain into Albemarle county, passing through the village of White Hall to Mechum’s River Station. Thence the troops were carried swiftly by rail to Staunton, reaching there on the night of the 4th of May, to the great joy of the people of Staunton, who thought that they had been deserted by Jackson in their time of need.

By Monday the whole army had come up. They were then joined by General Johnson and his army. On the 7th, one day having been spent in preparing for the march, Jackson, with General Johnson’s command in front, marched towards Milroy, who was now posted on Shenandoah mountain.

Jackson had been joined at Staunton by the corps of cadets from the Military Institute at Lexington under Col. Scott Shipp. Many of them were mere boys, but they were filled with joy at taking their first look at grim war under Stonewall Jackson, who had so lately been a professor in that school.

As the Confederate army approached Shenandoah mountain, the Federals retreated to the village of McDowell.

On Thursday, May 8th, Jackson and Johnson, with the command of the latter still in advance, climbed the sides of the mountain overlooking that little village.

That evening, while the generals were waiting for the rest of the army to come up, General Milroy made an attack upon their position.

Though not expecting an attack, Jackson quickly placed his troops for the conflict, the center of the line being held by the Twelfth Georgia regiment with great bravery. It is related that, when ordered at one time to retire behind the crest of the hill to escape the raking fire of the foe, they refused to do so, and kept their position. The next day a tall youth from the Georgia regiment was asked why they did not fall back as ordered. He replied, “We did not come all the way to Virginia to run before Yankees.”

The Twelfth Georgia Regiment at McDowell.

Just before the close of the battle, General Johnson was wounded in the ankle and compelled to leave the field.

The battle of McDowell raged from half-past four to half-past eight P. M., the shades of night closing the conflict. Then the Federals gave up the assault and retreated from the field. “By nine o’clock,” says Dr. Dabney, “the roar of the struggle had passed away, and the green battle-field reposed under the starlight as calmly as when it had been occupied only by its peaceful herds of cattle.”

It was one o’clock A. M. before General Jackson reached his tent, having waited to see the last wounded man brought off the battle-field, and the last picket posted. He had eaten nothing since morning, but when his faithful servant, Jim, came with food, he said, “I want none—nothing but sleep”; and in a moment he was fast asleep.

He was in the saddle at peep of day; but, upon climbing the mountain, he saw that the enemy had left during the night. He at once sent this dispatch to Richmond: “God blessed our arms with victory at McDowell yesterday,” and then set out in pursuit of the fleeing Federals. He had followed them as far as Franklin, when the woods were set on fire by the Federals to conceal their position.

The dense smoke hung like a pall over the mountain roads, and the heat from the blazing forests was terrible. But still, the long column pressed on until Monday, when General Jackson received an order from General Lee to return to the Valley and pay his respects to General Banks, who was now at Strasburg.

When the latter general had found out that Ewell was holding the Swift Run Gap, and that Jackson had left to go—no one knew whither—he left Harrisonburg and retreated to Strasburg. Jackson was lost, and, not knowing where he might next appear, General Banks thought it more prudent to take a safer position.

Time was now precious to Jackson; so, after halting for a brief rest, during which time the whole army met to render thanks to God for the great victory, he set out on his return march to the Valley.

On the 20th, he was again in New Market, where he was joined by General Ewell.

By a bold plan and a swift march he had saved the army of General Johnson, and prevented Milroy from taking Staunton and joining Banks, and now he was again in pursuit of the latter.

General Banks was fortifying at Strasburg, and seemed to expect an attack in front, so Jackson wisely planned to attack him in the rear.

You remember that I told you that just east of New Market there is a pass, or gap, through the Massanutton mountain. Now Jackson sent a small force of cavalry down the turnpike towards Strasburg to hold it, and conceal the movements of the main army, which he himself led eastward across the mountain into the Page Valley.

Hidden by the friendly mountain, his troops marched quickly and silently to the town of Front Royal, which is at the northern end of the mountain, and which then guarded the flank of Banks’ army.

So swift and silent had been the march, that Jackson’s men were nearly in sight of the town before anyone knew of their presence.

One mile and a half from the town, the pickets were driven in, and an instant advance was ordered. The Confederate troops rushed to the attack. The Federals, thinking that Jackson was at least one hundred miles away, in the mountains of Western Virginia, were taken completely by surprise. They surrendered by hundreds, giving up quantities of valuable stores, among which were five hundred new revolvers and a wagon load of coffee.

The people of Front Royal were wild with joy at seeing the Confederates again, but the troops were not permitted to stop. On through the town they went at a double-quick, for the Federals had now made a stand outside of the town. But they were speedily put to flight, and the pursuit went on.

In the meantime, the Confederate cavalry came upon a body of Federals near Cedarville, five miles from Front Royal. A charge was at once made upon the Federals by the Confederates, and the whole force was driven back. The Federals then reformed in an orchard, and were again charged upon by the Confederates, and, after a fierce contest, were captured.

As night came on, the weary Southern troops went into camp, for they were quite worn out with marching and fighting.

The next morning, May 24th, the troops were again moving by peep of day. Our hero himself rode forward towards Middletown. When in sight of the turnpike which leads from Strasburg to Winchester, he saw long lines of Federal horsemen in full retreat.

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