June 8, 1862

June 8, 1862:

Battle of Cross Keys

Virginia

Eastern Theater, Shenandoah Valley Campaign

Stonewall Jackson’s divisions have led the Federals on a merry chase up and down the length of the Valley, and now turn to fight their pursuers. At the south tip of Massanutten Mountain, that spine of mountain in the middle of the Valley, Jackson stops, knowing that he can no longer use that mountain to keep separated the two Federal forces pursuing him: Fremont’s Army of West Virginia (12,000 men), and Shields, with 11,000 men of Gen. Irvin McDowell’s I Corps. The Federal plan, of course, is to catch Jackson between the two pinchers of the Union movement. Jackson makes his headquarters near Port Republic, a small town near where the North and South rivers converge. The Yankees under Shields will have to contest the crossings there to get at Jackson’s lines. Five miles north is the small town of Cross Keys, where the Valley Pike will bring Fremont swinging around the end of Massanutten Mountain. There, Jackson posts Gen. Richard Ewell and five understrength thinned brigades, numbering about 8,500 men, of which only 6,000 will be engaged. Ewell is outnumbered 2 to 1 by Fremont.

Early in the morning, the Confederates are surprised by Col. Samuel Carroll (sent by Shields) with a regiment of Union cavalry dashing across the bridge into Port Republic, and Jackson and his staff are nearly captured. But Carroll overran his infantry support, and he retreats.

Gen. Ewell has placed his brigades with Patton, Steuart, Elzey, Trimble and Walker in line, from west to east. Trimble, however, advances his brigade forward, placing his artillery on Victory Hill, and his brigade out of sight. Fremont sends forward one brigade, under Col. Cluseret, to clear the Rebel pickets, and then deploys the brigadess of Schenk, Milroy, and Stahel from west to east for his advance, with Bohlen and Koltes in reserve. Fremont attempts a massive maneuver, a right wheel, with Stahel moving wide in an arc, and Milroy in support of Stahel’s right flank. As Staheli advances, he does not know of Trimble’s advanced position. As the Union troops move over Victory Hill, Trimble’s regiments stand up and pour several volleys into the blue ranks, which pull back in disorder. Especially the 8^th New York is badly hit, with over 180 shot and 80 captured. Trimble keeps up a steady advance on the his right, outflanking each attempt of the Federals to re-form as they continue to fall back, keeping them off-balance and stacked up so as to prevent reserves from deploying. As Milroy engages the Confederate lines in the center, Stahel’s retreat exposes his flank; Ewell’s massed artillery shreds Milroy’s brigade, and Schenk (on his right) does not move to support him. Fremont has Milroy withdraw as well. Bohlen is moved to stiffen Stahel’s position, but Fremont seems unable to redeem his position. He orders Schenk forward to strike at the Confederate left, but after exchanging fire, the Southern regiments drive the Northern line back. That night, Fremont withdraws to a safer position.

Confederate Victory.

Losses:           Killed       Wounded      Missing      Total

Union              114             443                  127                68

Confederate 42                230                 15                  287



Gen. Isaac TGrimble



—Brig. Gen. James Negley, on a raid with a quick-marching force, engages Rebel troops near Chattanooga, Tennessee, and after an artillery duel, silences the Rebel guns. The Federals sweep into the city with infantry, capturing prisoners and a large amount of livestock. First Battle of Chattanooga. But Negley is deep in enemy territory, and soon withdraws with his small force.

—Surgeon Alfred L. Castleman, Union Army, just outside of Richmond, records in his own ascerbic way the internal politics of the army, and an attempt to have him cashiered out of the army:

8th—I am threatened this morning with dismissal from the service, and my letter of yesterday is held up as a piece of intolerable insolence, and as one good ground for my being dishonorably relieved. Well, I am a Surgeon of a large hospital, in which are about five hundred brave but unfortunate men, who, under their almost superhuman efforts to sustain and defend a government have broken down and sickened. They are from home, from family, from friends; they are suffering for want of the commonest attention; the dead and the dying are lying together for want of proper and sufficient aid to dispose of them otherwise. The living are dying for the want of the necessaries of life, which, in great abundance, are in sight, part owned by the government, part by the rebels; that owned by the latter carefully guarded by men withrawn from our lines, lest some of these suffering sick should, in desperation, crawl from their beds, get in reach of, and take enough to snatch their languishing bodies from suffering, and, perhaps, from death. But worst of all, I have taken the liberty of stating these things plainly, and, as a penalty for my insolence in holding up a mirror to the eyes of a superior officer, I am to be relieved! By me, "this is a consummation devoutly to be wished." Will they dare to try it? We shall see. (I have a mirror which will reflect other sights not less hideous than this. Perhaps they would like to look at it?