April 20.

On April 20 General Edward Johnson, menaced in rear by Banks’ advance, in flank by the brigade which Fremont had placed at Moorefield, and in front by Milroy’s brigade, which had advanced from Monterey, had fallen back from the Shenandoah Mountain to West View, seven miles west of Staunton; and to all appearance the Federal prospects were exceedingly favourable.

Harrisonburg is five-and-twenty miles, or two short marches, north of Staunton.  The hamlet of M’Dowell, now occupied by Milroy, is seven-and-twenty miles north-west.  Proper concert between Banks and Fremont should therefore have ensured the destruction or retreat of Edward Johnson, and have placed Staunton, as well as the Virginia Central Railroad, in their hands.  But although not a single picket stood between his outposts and Staunton, Banks dared not move.  By moving to Elk Run Valley Jackson had barred the way of the Federals more effectively than if he had intrenched his troops across the Staunton road.

South of Harrisonburg, where the Valley widens to five-and-twenty miles, there was no strong position.  And even had such existed, 6000 men, of which a third were cavalry, could scarcely have hoped to hold it permanently against a far superior force.  Moreover, cooped up inside intrenchments, the Army of the Valley would have lost all freedom of action; and Jackson would have been cut off both from Ewell and from Richmond.  But, although direct intervention was impracticable, he was none the less resolved that Banks should never set foot in Staunton.  The Elk Run Valley was well adapted for his purpose.  Spurs of the Blue Ridge, steep, pathless, and densely wooded, covered either flank.  The front, protected by the Shenandoah, was very strong.  Communication with both Ewell and Richmond was secure, and so long as he held the bridge at Conrad’s store he threatened the flank of the Federals should they advance on Staunton.  Strategically the position was by no means perfect.  The Confederates, to use an expression of General Grant’s, applied to a similar situation, were “in a bottle.”  A bold enemy would have seized the bridge, “corking up” Jackson with a strong detachment, and have marched on Staunton with his main body.

“Had Banks been more enterprising,” says Dabney, “this objection would have been decisive.”  But he was not enterprising, and Jackson knew it.* (* “My own opinion,” he wrote, when this movement was in contemplation, “is that Banks will not follow me up to the Blue Ridge.  My desire is, as far as practicable, to hold the Valley, and I hope that Banks will be deterred from advancing [from New Market] much further toward Staunton by the apprehension of my returning to New Market [by Luray], and thus getting in his rear.”  O.R. volume 12 part 3 page 848.) He had had opportunities in plenty of judging his opponent’s character.  The slow advance on Winchester, the long delay at Woodstock, the cautious approach to New Market, had revealed enough.  It was a month since the battle of Kernstown, and yet the Confederate infantry, although for the greater part of the time they had been encamped within a few miles of the enemy’s outposts, had not fired a shot.