History often unconsciously injures the reputation of great soldiers.  The more detailed the narrative, the less brilliant seems success, the less excusable defeat.  When we are made fully acquainted with the dispositions of both sides, the correct solution of the problem, strategical or tactical, is generally so plain that we may easily be led to believe that it must needs have spontaneously suggested itself to the victorious leader; and, as a natural corollary, that success is due rather to force of will than to force of intellect; to vigilance, energy, and audacity, rather than to insight and calculation.  It is asserted, for instance, by superficial critics that both Wellington and Napoleon, in the campaign of 1815, committed unpardonable errors.  Undoubtedly, at first sight, it is inconceivable that the one should have disregarded the probability of the French invading Belgium by the Charleroi road, or that the other, on the morning of the great battle, should never have suspected that Blucher was close at hand.  But the critic’s knowledge of the situation is far more ample and accurate than that of either commander.  Had either Wellington before Quatre Bras, or Napoleon on the fateful June 18 known what we know now, matters would have turned out very differently.  “If,” said Frederick the Great, “we had exact information of our enemy’s dispositions, we should beat him every time;” but exact information is never forthcoming.  A general in the field literally walks in darkness, and his success will be in proportion to the facility with which his mental vision can pierce the veil.  His manoeuvres, to a greater or less degree, must always be based on probabilities, for his most recent reports almost invariably relate to events which, at best, are several hours old; and, meanwhile, what has the enemy been doing?  This it is the most essential part of his business to discover, and it is a matter of hard thinking and sound judgment.  From the indications furnished by his reports, and from the consideration of many circumstances, with some of which he is only imperfectly acquainted, he must divine the intentions of his opponent.  It is not pretended that even the widest experience and the finest intellect confer infallibility.  But clearness of perception and the power of deduction, together with the strength of purpose which they create, are the fount and origin of great achievements; and when we find a campaign in which they played a predominant part, we may fairly rate it as a masterpiece of war.  It can hardly be disputed that these qualities played such a part on the Shenandoah.  For instance; when Jackson left the Valley to march against Milroy, many things might have happened which would have brought about disaster:—­

1.  Banks, who was reported to have 21,000 men at Harrisonburg, might have moved on Staunton, joined hands with Milroy, and crushed Edward Johnson.

2.  Banks might have attacked Ewell’s 8000 with superior numbers.