CHAPTER VII.

A Major-General.

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.”

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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.

The batteries of Poague and Chew were brought forward and a hot fire opened upon the retreating foe. The latter broke in wild confusion, and soon the turnpike was filled with a mass of struggling and dying horses and men. A few regiments which formed the rear guard fell back to Strasburg, and, leaving their baggage at that place, fled through the western mountains to the Potomac river.

On the turnpike, Ashby with his cavalry followed closely after the fleeing foe, firing upon them with shot and shell.

Cooke says: “Either a shell or a round shot would strike one of the wagons and overturn it, and before those behind could stop their headway, they would thunder down on the remains of the first. Others would tumble in so as to block up the road; and in the midst of it all, Ashby’s troopers would swoop down, taking prisoners or cutting down such as resisted.”

Ashby himself pressed forward, and at one time, it is said, took as many as thirty prisoners, unaided and alone.

But Ashby’s men soon betook themselves to plundering the wagons, which were rich in stores, and thus gave the enemy time to recover from their panic. When near Newtown, the enemy turned and fired upon their pursuers.

At dark, however, the firing ceased, and Jackson himself went forward to urge on the pursuit.

The main body of the army had now come up, but no halt was made for food or rest. The “foot cavalry” of the Valley marched all night along the pike lit up by “burning wagons, pontoon bridges, and stores.”

Every now and then, they would come upon men ambuscaded along the sides of the pike, and fierce fights would ensue.

About dawn on the 25th of May, Jackson’s advance force climbed the lofty hill southwest of Winchester. This hill was already held by the Federals, but they were charged upon by the Stonewall Brigade, and driven back. With a loud shout the Confederates gained the crest of the hill and planted their batteries. Though they had marched all night, they took no rest or food, but at once began the battle of Winchester.

Ewell fought on the right and Taylor on the left. “Jackson,” says a writer, “had his war-look on, and rode about the field, regardless of shot and shell, looking as calm as if nothing were going on.”

At last, after a fierce fight, the Federals gave way, and Jackson entered Winchester at the heels of the panic-stricken army. The people of the town were beside themselves with delight to see their loved general once more.

Jackson was for the first time excited. He waved his faded cap around his head and cheered with a right good will.

But the troops still pressed forward, Jackson leading the way. When one of his officers said, “Don’t you think you are going into too much danger, General?” his reply was, “Tell the troops to press right on to the Potomac.” And they did press onward until the enemy was forced across the Potomac with the loss of many prisoners and valuable stores.

After resting a few days, Jackson advanced towards Harper’s Ferry with the view of attacking the Federal force there, but was stopped by the news that two armies, one under General Shields, from the east; the other under General Fremont, from the west, were to meet at Strasburg and thus cut him off from Richmond and capture him.

He at once hastened back to Winchester, where he collected his prisoners and the stores of ammunition and medicine which he had captured. These he sent up the Valley, and followed rapidly with his whole army.

In the meantime, there was great terror at Washington and in the North. Men wore anxious faces, and were asking each other, “Where is Jackson?” They were afraid that he would turn and capture Washington.

But Jackson had only about fifteen thousand men, and he could not risk the loss of the rich stores which he had gained and the destruction of his noble army, so he put forth all his skill and nerve to save them.

The Confederates now began a race to reach Strasburg before the Federals, the larger part of the army marching from near Harper’s Ferry to Strasburg, nearly fifty miles, in about twenty-four hours. Well might they be called the “foot cavalry.”

As Jackson marched into Strasburg, General Fremont’s advance was almost in sight; and, as the Stonewall Brigade had not yet come up, Jackson sent General Ewell to hold Fremont in check. A fierce battle ensued, but Ewell at last drove back the enemy, and the Stonewall Brigade coming up that evening, the whole army continued to retreat up the Valley.

The race had been won by Jackson, who was, for the present, safe. In a brief space of time, he had flanked the enemy at Front Royal, chased them to Middletown, beaten them at Winchester, and sent them flying across the Potomac. When nearly entrapped by two other columns, he had passed between them, and was now hurrying with his rich stores to the upper Valley. Cooke tells us that he had captured two thousand three hundred prisoners, one hundred cattle, thirty-four thousand pounds of bacon, salt, sugar, coffee, hard bread, and cheese, valuable medical stores, $125,185 worth of other stores, two pieces of artillery, and many small-arms and horses. All this was gained with the loss of about four hundred men.

But, as Jackson retreated up the Valley, he was again threatened by a great danger. Shields’s column marched up the Page Valley with the view of crossing the Massanutton at New Market and striking Jackson in the rear, just as Jackson had done to Banks when he went down to Front Royal. But Jackson was too wary to be taken by surprise.

He sent swift horsemen across the mountain, who burned the bridges over the south branch of the Shenandoah at Columbia Mills and the White House, and then placed signal stations on top of the mountain to inform him of what was going on in the Page Valley.

Fremont was now pressing on his rear, but he moved swiftly up the Valley with the main army, while Ashby kept guard on every side. When Harrisonburg was reached, he again marched east and took his stand near the village of Port Republic.

On the 6th of June, as the gallant Ashby was leading a charge to repel the advance of the Federal forces, he fell, pierced to the heart by a single bullet. His last words were, “Charge, Virginians!” Thus, in the moment of victory, died the brave and noble Ashby. His loss was deeply felt by Jackson, who now needed more than ever, the daring and skill of his “Chief of Cavalry.”

As I have told you, Jackson was at Port Republic, a village at the forks of the Shenandoah river. Fremont was at Harrisonburg, fifteen miles to the northwest, and Shields was at Conrad’s Store, fifteen miles to the northeast. The space between the three generals formed the sides of a triangle. Just back of Jackson, in the Blue Ridge, was Brown’s Gap, through which he could retreat and join Lee before Richmond.

But Jackson had no idea of leaving the Valley without a parting blow. The Shenandoah was very high, so that Shields and Fremont could not unite their forces. Jackson therefore determined to attack Shields first, and, if victorious, then to turn his attention to Fremont. I have forgotten to tell you that Shields was east of the river, and Fremont to the west; while Jackson was between the north and south branches of the Shenandoah, which unite at Port Republic. There was a bridge over the north branch, between Jackson and Fremont; but over the south branch, between Jackson and Shields, there was only a ford. The north bank was high, while the south was low, and stretched away in broad meadows towards the mountains.

Jackson, leaving the trusty Ewell at Cross Keys to watch Fremont, who was advancing from Harrisonburg, took possession of the heights overlooking the bridge at Port Republic, and stationed there two brigades and his remaining artillery. A small body of cavalry was sent across South river to find out the position of Shields.

Early on the morning of the 8th of June, the cavalry came galloping back with the news that Shields’s army was close at hand. Jackson, who was in the town with some of his staff, at once gave orders for the batteries on the north side to open fire; but before it could be done, the Federal cavalry dashed into the town followed by artillery, which rumbled forward and took position at the southern end of the bridge.

Jackson and his staff were now cut off from his army, which was on the north bank. We are told by Cooke and others that Jackson, with great presence of mind, rode towards the bridge; and, rising in his stirrups, called sternly to the Federal officer commanding the gun, “Who told you to post that gun there, sir? Bring it over here!” The officer, thinking that Jackson was a Federal general, bowed, “limbered up” the piece, and was preparing to move. In the meantime Jackson and his staff galloped across the bridge, and were soon safe on the northern side.

No time was lost by the Confederates. Their artillery opened fire upon the Federals, and Jackson in person led the Thirty-seventh Virginia regiment, drove the foe from the bridge, and captured the gun with the loss of only two men wounded.

In the meantime, Jackson’s long wagon-train, which contained his ammunition, was bravely defended on the outskirts of the village by a handful of pickets and a section of artillery until help came.

The fire of the guns on the north bank made it impossible for the Federals to hold the village, so, leaving their other gun, they retreated, and dashed across the ford of the South river by the way they had come.

Hardly had the guns stopped firing at Port Republic, before heavy firing was heard in the direction of Cross Keys, five miles off, between Ewell and Fremont. The latter had twenty thousand men, while Ewell had only about six thousand. The Confederates were posted with great skill upon a ridge, and after fighting from ten A. M. until nightfall, at last drove back the enemy with great loss.

The battle of Cross Keys having been fought, the Confederate troops lay upon their arms, ready to renew the fray the next day; but Jackson had other plans.

He had determined to strike Shields next; so, leaving a guard to watch Fremont, he ordered Ewell to march at break of day to Port Republic.

At midnight he caused a foot-bridge to be thrown across South river so that his infantry might pass over to attack Shields. This bridge was made by placing wagons lengthwise across the swollen stream. The floor of the bridge was formed of long boards laid loosely from one wagon to another. Over this rude, frail structure, the whole body of infantry passed, but not so quickly as its general wished. About midway the stream, for some reason, one wagon was about two feet higher than the next. This made a step, and all the boards on the higher wagon were loose but one. When the column began to move over, several men were thrown, by the loose planks, into the water; so, refusing to trust any but the firm plank, the men went, at this point, in single file. This made the crossing over very tedious; and, instead of being in line to attack Shields at sunrise, it was ten o’clock before the entire army had passed over. Thus, three loose boards cost the Confederates a bloody battle; for they found the Federals drawn up in battle array and ready for the fight. This incident shows how much care should be taken in performing the most trivial duty; as the success of great events is often affected by very slight causes. It is said that Jackson hoped to surprise Shields, whip him in a few hours, and then recross the river to rout Fremont.

But the battle of Port Republic, June 9th, raged furiously for hours. The Federals fought with great courage, and it was not until evening that they gave way and retreated, panic-stricken, from the field.

The Confederates followed them eight or ten miles down the river, and returned laden with spoils and prisoners.

At ten o’clock A. M., Jackson sent orders for the guard left at Cross Keys under General Trimble and Colonel Patton to march to his aid and to burn the bridge behind them. This they did, and came up in time to join in the fight.

Towards nightfall General Jackson led his weary troops by a side road into the safe recesses of Brown’s Gap, in the Blue Ridge.

As they passed the field of battle on their return, they saw the hills on the north side of the river crowded with the troops of Fremont, who had arrived in time to see the rout of Shields.

The river being high, they did not attempt to cross, but began a furious cannonade upon the Confederate surgeons and men who were caring for the wounded and burying the dead.

The next day, scouts brought word to Jackson that Fremont was building a bridge, but soon after, having learned, doubtless, that General Shields’s army was entirely routed, he retreated.

On June 12th, the Confederate cavalry under Colonel Munford entered Harrisonburg, Fremont having gone back down the Valley, leaving behind him his sick and wounded, and many valuable stores.

Four hundred and fifty Federals were taken prisoners on the field, while as many more were found in the hospitals. One thousand small-arms and nine field-pieces fell to the victorious Confederates. The Federal loss in the two battles was about two thousand. In the battle of Cross Keys Jackson lost only forty-two killed and two hundred and thirty-one wounded; but in the battle of Port Republic, ninety-one officers and men were killed, and six hundred and eighty-six wounded.

Though Jackson’s plans had not been entirely carried out, he was now rid of the two armies of forty thousand men which had been on his front and flanks, and had threatened to crush him.

Within forty days his troops had marched four hundred miles, fought four great battles, and defeated four separate armies, sending to the rear over three thousand prisoners and vast trains of stores and ammunition.

From this time Jackson stood forth as a leader of great genius; the little orphan boy had indeed climbed the heights of fame amid a “blaze of glory.”

On the 12th of June, Jackson led his army from its camp, in Brown’s Gap, to the plains of Mt. Meridian, a few miles above Port Republic. Here, the wearied men rested for five days, while Colonel Munford, who now commanded the cavalry, kept watch on the turnpike below Harrisonburg.

This is the dispatch which Jackson sent to Richmond:

“Near Port Republic, June 9th, 1862.

Through God’s blessing, the enemy near Port Republic was this day routed, with the loss of six pieces of his artillery.

T. J. JACKSON, _Major-General, commanding._”

The Saturday following the battle was set apart by General Jackson as a day of thanksgiving and prayer, and the next day (Sunday) the Lord’s Supper was celebrated by the Christian soldiers from all the army. General Jackson was present at this service, and partook of the sacred feast in company with his men.

On the 16th of June, General Jackson ordered Colonel Munford to press down the pike, if possible, as far as New Market, and to make the enemy believe that his whole army was advancing. This Colonel Munford did, and the Federals, believing that Jackson was again on the march, retreated to Strasburg and began to fortify themselves.

In the meanwhile, June 17th, Jackson had begun a march, but not towards Strasburg. The mighty army of McClellan had advanced so close to Richmond that at night the reflection of its camp-fires could be seen from the city; and General Lee sent for Jackson to come to his aid as swiftly as possible.

Great care was taken to make the Federals believe that troops were being sent to Jackson, so that he could again go down the Valley, and attack Fremont and Shields at Strasburg. A division of men was sent as far as Staunton, and the report was spread that a large force was on the march to Jackson; but the truth was, that our hero was already on his way to Richmond, where the next blow was to be struck.

It was important to keep the Federals in ignorance of Jackson’s movement, so Colonel Munford was ordered to make a great show with his men along the turnpike, and to allow no news to be carried to the foe. The men were told to give this answer to all questions, “I do not know.” The historian Cooke tells us this amusing incident, which grew out of the above order: “One of Hood’s men left the ranks to go to a cherry-tree near by, when Jackson rode past and saw him. ‘Where are you going?’ asked the General. ‘I don’t know,’ replied the soldier. ‘To what command do you belong?’ ‘I don’t know.’ ‘Well, what State are you from?’ ‘I don’t know.’ ‘What is the meaning of all this?’ asked Jackson. ‘Well,’ was the reply, ‘Old Stonewall and General Hood issued orders yesterday that we were not to know anything until after the next fight.’ Jackson laughed and rode on.”

On the 25th of June, the corps reached Ashland, near Richmond.

Jackson had gone on in advance to the headquarters of General Lee, where his post in the coming strife was assigned him.

Flăñk, side of an army or fleet. Rē′ĭn-fōrce′, to send more soldiers. Mys′tery, a great secret. Pētĭ′tion (pē-tish′-un), a request. Gēn′ius (jēn′-yus), a man of wonderful mind. Ăd′jutañt, a military officer who assists another.

Describe— The battle of Kernstown. The retreat to Swift Run Gap, McDowell, Front Royal, Winchester, Cross Keys, Port Republic. The march to Richmond.