"Ah! Rene, the experience of that long,
sixty-mile march and the deaths and wounds which a
few hours brought under my notice seems now as a
great and horrible nightmare dream."
Rebels assail a Yankee Wagon
Train, May 26, 1862
What came to be known as the "Great Skedaddle"
had begun. The shattered Union forces raced to outrun
Jackson's triumphant rebels. While Williams got the bulk
of his trains through, other commands were not so
fortunate earning the army's commander, Nathaniel Banks,
the sobriquet of "Jackson's Commissary". How
would I feel, I thought when reading through this whole
sorry episode, if I joined to save the Union and found
myself under the command of a Newt Gingrich or a Thomas
Foley.
Banks, a former speaker of the House of Representatives,
had gained his position by political connection and would
be frequently absent leaving Williams in command of the
Corps. It would become an oft repeated scenario for
Williams in the first years of the war, serving under
incompetent commanders and then having to pick up after
their mess when they became absent.
The weary comedy of this chaotic retreat is again
wonderfully described by Williams. He had managed to
bring some order to the retreat when...
"The rest of the
command halted an hour or more at Martinsburg and
then resumed the march toward Williamsport, where it
was supposed the river was fordable for men.
Our whole train (nearly 500 wagons) had preceded us
to the river and I began to congratulate myself that
we were well out of a bad scrape and that I should
get a sound sleep in Williamsport that night. Judge
of my disgust, then, when within three or four miles
of the river I came upon the rear of our train and
was told that the river was not fordable except for
horse-teams and horsemen, that it was between four
and five feet deep and of great rapidity. With a
heavy heart and weary limbs I began to work my way to
the ferry through the jam of teams and wagons and
guns and caissons and forges, intermingled with
straggling cavalry and mounted men. It was already
dark and the road, which winds through gullies and
descends a series of steep hills to the river for
miles, it seemed to me, was not easily followed with
my poor eyesight, but after hard labor and a great
deal of swearing, I fear, I reached the plateau by
the river.
Here it seemed as if all the wagons of the army were
in "corral," that is, drawn up in close
lines and packed together almost in mass, covering
acres of ground. I worked my way to the ferry and
found the single scow-boat (by means of which with my
brigade alone I was three nights and days in crossing
over in March) busy at work taking over the sick and
wounded. I was cheered, however, by hearing that my
personal baggage had arrived early and was across the
river. Hoping to get some relief by the prospect at
the ford, I worked through the crowd of mules and
vehicles down to the point where the river is
entered. Big fires had been built upon both sides to
guide the crossing, and horsemen and horse-teams were
struggling in the river to get across. The river here
is over 300 feet wide and the current exceedingly
rapid, especially where the water is the deepest.
The descent into the river from the bank is very
muddy and each wagon, as it went in, stalled on the
start and then the poor animals would struggle and
flounder in the rapid stream, which reached nearly to
their backs, till many a horse and scores of mules
were drowned. I saw it was a desperate chance for
getting our teams over, and as for men, who were
busily building large fires along the hillsides and
cooking their suppers, I felt most sadly for them,
for not one could possibly pass through that fierce
current of a broad and gloomy river.
The poor devils had been without anything to eat, as
the fight began in the morning before they had cooked
breakfast, and they had marched thirty-five miles
without an ounce to eat in their haversacks. I
thought of the desperate confusion of horses and
wagons and men should we be strongly attacked after
it was known that at least five to one were after us;
of the demoralized condition of our troops,
consequent upon a march of sixty miles (with but one
meal) in two days and an almost constant succession
of combats and one heavy battle; of the probabilities
that we should be followed to the river and attacked,
at least by day light, before a tithe of our men
could be crossed and while all our immense train was
parked ready to deepen the awful confusion that must
follow.
I saw I had another sleepless night before me, and as
I had been fast all day my appetite, as well as my
philosophy, prompted me to seek sustenance without
delay. So I made for a small house, which I found
full of sick and wounded, and the surgeons were
actually dressing a horrible arm mutilated by a
shell, while others were waiting to be cared for. But
the horrible and the careless are strangely mingled
in war. A private soldier recognized me as I entered
and said he had just made some coffee which he would
cheerfully share with me. We sat down to the same
table. I found bread and sugar, while he drew from
his kit butter and his sugar rations, remarking that
he always took care of the subsistence; that while he
had enough to eat he could march forever."
The endless day continued. Jammed against the Potomac, it
seemed that there was no escape. Fortunately, Jackson's
troops were too tired and over extended and Jackson
pulled them back and disappeared up the Valley having
successfully checked to large columns and liberating the
Valley.
"All Sunday night I walked from the ferry to the
ford and then to Gen. Banks' quarters-in wagons by
the way-to see what could be done to hasten the safe
transportation of our men. Fortunately we had dragged
back two pontoon boats which were launched, and a
scow was found, and we began about 2 o'clock the
morning of Monday to get our men rapidly over. The
wagons, too, were getting slowly over the ford, but
some wagons stalled and mules drowned and the
white-covered boxes stood in the river, some times
three and four together, as monuments of danger to
those who followed.
The men all dropped to sleep as if dead. The
campfires, which blazed briskly on our first arrival,
died out. Nothing was heard but the braying of mules
and the rolling of wagons moving toward the ford and
the occasional obstreperous cursing of some
wagon-master at the unruly conduct of his team. We
had pushed forward towards the rear a section of
artillery and some infantry and cavalry to watch the
approach of the Rebels, but so convinced were our men
of the vastly superior force of the enemy that they
were poorly prepared to resist an attack. I waited
impatiently, and yet mostly anxiously, for daylight.
The regiments not on duty were brought down to the
front and stood quietly waiting their turns to cross.
Then down came the cavalry to try the ford. With all
my fatigue, I could not but laugh at the scene. The
strong current would take some away down stream.
Others would ride fearlessly over and with little
trouble. Several got so confused that they lost the
ford and swam away down the river in the middle of
the stream. Each horse seemed to have some
peculiarity. Now and then a rider would be thrown and
would disappear, floundering in the water. Some would
run against the stalled wagons, and altogether the
scene was most confused, and in spite of its real
seriousness and danger was in fact laughable.
But the enemy came not, and after a while, what with
fixing the ford entrance and what with improvised
facilities of transportation, matters began to be
more hopeful and cheerful. At 9 o'clock or so, being
satisfied all was safe, I crossed on the ferry. Most
of the men were then over, and the wagons were
getting along rapidly. I hoped to get some rest, but
on this side I found so many things to attend to that
it was hours before I could throw myself on a bed.
After three days and nights of incessant fatigue and
without sleep, you may be assured I slept soundly,
and yet awoke unrefreshed.
To sum up, Rene, we have marched sixty-odd miles in
two days, with nearly 500 wagons and have brought
them all in with the exception of perhaps 50; have
fought numerous combats and one severe fight, in the
face, and in spite of the best efforts of from 15,000
to 20,000 Rebels. A successful retreat is often more
meritorious than a decided victory. We were certainly
very successful in our defeat, for which I think
"good luck" should have the main praise. We
have got off in pretty good order, but if you were a
politician I could tell you how easily all this could
have been avoided and how, instead of being a
defeated and dispirited army, we ought now to be in
Staunton or beyond, with Jackson and Ewell defeated
fugitives and the whole Rebel crew driven back far
beyond the line of Richmond. A singular blunder, a
division of our forces and a neglect to send to us
troops which were there in this valley has led to all
this disaster and unhappy loss of life, property, and
territory."
Williams' first venture into the Shenandoah ended up
where it began. Now he would refit and reenter Virginia
two weeks later to begin another more dangerous and
eventful mission would lead to the turning point of the
Civil War.
While Williams' forces recuperated, Jackson's were not
resting. They would next smash two more Yankee columns in
the upper valley, before exiting the valley to join Lee
in the Seven Days Battle about Richmond.
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