I
find it such a deceptively simple sentence: on Wednesday, 10
June, 1863, the second corps of the Army of Northern Virginia, under
the command of Lieutenant General Richard Ewell, marched out of their
camps around Culpeper Virginia, headed for Chambersburg,
Pennsylvania, 130 miles to the north. The reality is that Ewell's
corp did not move as 22,000 individuals. The second regiment in line
could not step off until the first regiment had cleared the road
space, and the third not until the second was away. And as Ewell's
men were using a single dirt road, any delays would be multiplied
accordion like for the regiments behind. It is has been a tried and
reliable and potentially exhausting mode of march since the days of
Julius Caesar's grandfather.
In
the American Civil War the object of every march – no matter its
length - was to put as many of your regiments as possible within
musket range of what Napoleon
called the “point
d'équilibre -
"Fire must be concentrated on one point”, he said, “and as
soon as the breach is made, the equilibrium is broken and the rest is
nothing." Achieving that is not strategy or tactics. It is
logistics. And as 20th
century 5 Star General Omar Bradley put it - “Amateurs study
strategy. Professionals study logistics.”
The
marching routes were always scouted in advance by cavalry, searching
for information on roads and enemy troops. The lead infantry
regiments for Ewell's corps rose about 4:00 in the morning, and after
a quick breakfast, assembled and then set out at dawn at the route
march - about 2 miles an hour, with a 10 minute break to rest and
close up for “lame ducks” every hour. Each regiment was followed
by a horse drawn wagon carrying it's
tents and tent pegs, tarps, cooking utensils – pots, pans, knives
and ladles, flour and salt, and reserve ammunition. Each foot
soldier carried about 40 pounds of personal gear – musket and
bayonet, canteen, blanket, shot and powder, a lead shot making kit and
extra clothing if available.
The
average day's march was limited to between 8 and 10 hours, so that
tailing regiments could get of the road before dark. The first day's
march – Wednesday, 10 June - was made in “pleasant” weather
and covered 25 miles. It ended at the base of the 4,600 foot high
Chester Gap (above), through the Blue Ridge Mountains.
On Thursday, 11 June –
after a ten mile march through the Gap and down the western slope
along side Slaone Creek, Ewell's infantry reached the pretty little
village of Front Royal (above), where north and south forks joined to form
the Shenandoah River.
The road in front of Lt. General Ewell now
split. The Valley Pike followed the Shenandoah northeast 35 miles to
Harper’s Ferry, where the river joined the Potomac. The Front Royal
Pike angled northwest 20 miles to Winchester, where Major General
Robert Milroy patiently waited with his 9,000 man Federal division.
Ewell spent Friday 12 June, closing up his men, and and inching
forward.
On
Saturday, 13 June, 1863,
Brigadier General Ewell sent Major General Edward Johnson's division
straight up the Front Royal Pike, slowly driving the Federal
skirmishers back onto their entrenchments. At the same time Major
General Jubal Early's division marched up the Valley Pike, out
flanking the Federal positions. That night it rained hard but stopped
shortly after midnight, allowing Early's men to launch their flanking
assault on Sunday morning, 14 June, unimpeded by mud. Squeezed
between the 2 Confederate attacks, the Federals were driven into
their forts where rebel artillery pounded them most of the afternoon.
It
was after 1:00 on the morning of Monday, 15 June, that General Milroy
realized his mistake in waiting, and pulled his men out of
Winchester. But at dawn Ewell's trap sprang shut, when troops of
Major General Robert Rodes' division caught the Federals out in the
open at Stephen's Depot, and forced half of them to surrender.
General Ewell immediately released a cavalry brigade under Brigadier
General Albert Jenkins’ which galloped 20 miles on to the
railroad warehouses at Martinsburg, Virginia.
A detachment even
reached the Potomac River before nightfall and crossed into Maryland
at Williamsport, thus confirming the Shenandoah Valley was now clear
of Federal troops.
That
same day, 15 June, 1863, the 21,000 men of 42 year old Lieutenant
General James Lonstreet's (above) First Corps left Culpeper and began their
march up the same road to Front Royal.
Riding with “Old Pete” was
his boss, the 53 year old commander of the entire Army of Northern
Virginia, Robert Edward Lee (above). The First Corps was the middle of Lee's
army, a logical place for the commander to be. But I suspect he also
wanted to keep a close eye on his “old war horse”. Until the
death of “Stonewall” Jackson in early May, Longstreet had been
Lee's second favorite subordinate.
Back
in May it had been Longstreet who suggested to Confederate Secretary
of War Seddon that the First Corps be sent west to rescue Vicksburg,
rather than invade Pennsylvania. But Lee had persuaded Longstreet to
drop his own plan by promising to remain on the defensive during the
Pennsylvania invasion, and entice the Federals into doing all the
attacking. But Longstreet also surrendered his own plan because “Old
Pete” realized, as that Georgia soldier had put it, the fate of the
Confederacy rode on Robert E. Lee's horse (above). The slave south had tied
its fate to the personal strengths and weaknesses of the man from
Virginia.
At
the moment the fate of the Federal Union was tied to General
“Fighting Joe” Hooker (above), who held onto his bridges at Frederick's
Crossing and his dream of a coupe de main on Richmond, until
Saturday, 13 June when he finally had the bridges dismantled. Sunday
was “Fighting Joe”'s “come to Jesus” moment. The next
morning, Monday, 15 June he was able to telegraph Halleck that he
was pulling back from the river and gathering his troops further
north around Manassas. And that evening he even displayed the self
confidence to admit to Lincoln “...the enemy nowhere crossed the
Rappahannock on our withdrawal from it, but General Hill's (rebel) troops
moved up the river in the direction of Culpeper this morning, for the
purpose, I conclude, of re-enforcing Longstreet and Ewell, wherever
they may be.” Then, at this very moment of insight and self
awareness, Joseph Hooker's paranoia reared its ugly head again in
his very next words to the President. “ I request that I may be
informed what troops there are at Harper's Ferry, and who is in
command of them, and also who is in command in this district.”
Like
most paranoids, Hooker had reason to suspect others were out to get
him. First there was what Lincoln had warned him about - the way he
had undermined his old boss, Burnside. And second there
was his old-old boss, "Old fuss and feathers", the 300 pound Winfield Scott (above).
General Scott had promoted
Hooker to Lieutenant Colonel during the Mexican-American war, and
assigned him as second in command to General of volunteers, Gideon J.
Pillow (above), “One of the most reprehensible men to ever wear 3 stars”.
Hooker kept Scott informed of Pillow's disloyalty to Scott. After
the Mexican War, as General-in-Chief of the Army, Scott court marshaled
Pillow, mostly based on information Hooker supplied. But Hooker was called to
testify in Pillow's defense, and Pillow got off. Scott then preceded to
hound Hooker out of the army. “Fighting Joe” only got back in the
fight after the outbreak of war in 1861 as a general of volunteers.
Hooker's
current superior was called “Old Brains” as a joke. Henry Halleck (above) was described by historian Allen Nevins as displaying
“...irresolution, confusion, and timidity...” A contemporary
Union General described Hallek as “a lying, treacherous,
hypocritical scoundrel with no moral sense." That other general
was Benjamin Butler, and he might have been describing himself, but
most of the Federal officer corps agreed with him about Halleck. But behind
Halleck stood Lincoln, who had entrusted Hooker with the Army of the
Potomac, even after he was defeated at Chancellorsville. Still, by
June of 1863 Hooker was becoming ever more sensitive to slights and
insults from superiors. Which may explain why he did the stupid thing
he did next.
On
16 June he telegraphed Lincoln again. “You have long been aware,
Mr. President, that I have not enjoyed the confidence of the
major-general commanding the army, and I can assure you so long as
this continues we may look in vain for success”. He then suggested
that he might defeat A.P. Hill's Corps before it could rejoin the
rest of Lee's Army, but insisted, “... the chances for my doing
this are much smaller than when I was on the Rappahannock.” It is
hard to see a purpose in this whining, petulant note other than to
provide post failure proof he had kept Lincoln fully informed.
Halleck
obviously saw Hooker's message, because within half an hour he
telegraphed Hooker, “Unless your army is kept near enough to the
enemy to ascertain his movements, yours must be in the dark or on
mere conjecture.” He then provided the information Hooker had
requested from Lincoln - just in case there was any doubt the 2 men in
Washington were speaking with each other. “ Tyler
is in command at Harper's Ferry, with...little or no movable troops.”
Halleck closed by suggesting that if Hooker wanted to use Tyler's
men, he should contact Tyler's superior directly.”
So
there was a single simple sentence to describe the situation. The
70,000 man Army of Northern Virginia was moving north behind the Blue
Ridge Mountains, and the 85,000 man Army of the Potomac was belatedly
moving north to follow it. But although both armies were moving
en-mass, their members remained individuals - particularly their
commanders - prey to all the failings of individuals – pride,
panic and lack of perception - proving as they approached the moment
of most violent contact, how alike as individuals they all were.
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