Nor had Lee been more successful in developing a counterstroke.  Longstreet, with a complacency it is difficult to understand, has related how he opposed the wishes of the Commander-in-Chief.  Three times Lee urged him forward.  The first time he rode to the front to reconnoitre, and found that the position, in his own words, was not inviting.  Again Lee insisted that the enemy’s left might be turned.  While the question was under discussion, a heavy force (Porter and McDowell) was reported advancing from Manassas Junction.  No attack followed, however, and Lee repeated his instructions.  Longstreet was still unwilling.  A large portion of the Federal force on the Manassas road now marched northward to join Pope, and Lee, for the last time, bade Longstreet attack towards Groveton.  “I suggested,” says the latter, “that the day being far spent, it might be as well to advance before night on a forced reconnaissance, get our troops into the most favourable positions, and have all things ready for battle the next morning.”  To this General Lee reluctantly gave consent, and orders were given for an advance to be pursued under cover of night, until the main position could be carefully examined.  It so happened that an order to advance was issued on the other side at the same time, so that the encounter was something of a surprise on both sides.* (* Battles and Leaders volume 2 page 519.) Hood, with his two Texan brigades, led the Confederates, and King’s division, now commanded by Hatch, met him on the slopes of Stuart’s Hill.  Although the Federals, since 1 A.M. the same morning, had marched to Manassas and back again, the fight was spirited.  Hood, however, was strongly supported, and the Texans pushed forward a mile and a half in front of the position they had held since noon.  Longstreet had now full leisure to make his reconnaissance.  The ground to which the enemy had retreated was very strong.  He believed it strongly manned, and an hour after midnight Hood’s brigades were ordered to withdraw.

The firing, even of the skirmishers, had long since died away on the opposite flank.  The battle was over, and the Valley army had been once more victorious.  But when Jackson’s staff gathered round him in the bivouac, “their triumph,” says Dabney, “bore a solemn hue.”  Their great task had been accomplished, and Pope’s army, harassed, starving, and bewildered, had been brought to bay.  But their energies were worn down.  The incessant marching, by day and night, the suspense of the past week, the fierce strife of the day that had just closed, pressed heavily on the whole force.  Many of the bravest were gone.  Trimble, that stout soldier, was severely wounded, Field and Forno had fallen, and in Gregg’s brigade alone 40 officers were dead or wounded.  Doctor McGuire, fresh from the ghastly spectacle of the silent battle-field, said, “General, this day has been won by nothing but stark and stern fighting.”  “No,” replied Jackson, very quietly, “it has been won by nothing but the blessing and protection of Providence.”  And in this attitude of acknowledgment general and soldiers were as one.  When the pickets had been posted, and night had fallen on the forest, officers and men, gathered together round their chaplains, made such preparations for the morrow’s battle as did the host of King Harry on the eve of Agincourt.