Jackson’s Saucer is Full of Secrets; Lincoln Must Command

December 31, 1861 (New Year’s Eve – Tuesday)

This had certainly been a strange year for Thomas J. Jackson. At its start, he was a professor at the Virginia Military Institute, under the immediate command of William Gilham. The United States flag flew over the parade grounds and they all still held true to the oaths sworn to protect it. At its end, he was a General in an army rebelling against that flag and William Gilham commanded a brigade under him. At a battle where few had predicted its bloodletting, let alone its outcome, he had earned the name “Stonewall,” a moniker that would indefinitely echo over the Virginia fields where he fought.

In early November, Jackson was placed in command of the Shenandoah Valley, headquartered at Winchester. Immediately, he saw a threat from the gathering Union forces in Romney and began to formulate his plan for a winter campaign. By impressing its importance upon Richmond, he was able to swell his numbers to 11,000. Most recently, three out of four brigades of General William Wing Loring’s Army of the Northwest had joined him from the hills of Western Virginia. Loring also came east and became Jackson’s second in command.1

Since the last of Loring’s command filtered into Winchester, he and Jackson had settled upon a command structure, allowing Loring to keep his Army of the Northwest intact and under his banner.

Jackson had already settled upon a plan of attack. The focus was Romney, a small village of 500 along the South Branch of the Potomac River. Between Winchester and Romney, about forty miles apart, lay a bountiful farming land that could yield corn, wheat and much food to feed an army. Romney, situated as it was, surrounded by mountains, controlled the valley. Every mile of ground that Jackson could take between the two towns was a mile closer to taking Romney itself.

As December had withered away, Jackson understood that the Union forces in the area were mainly concentrated at Romney and Martinsburg, twenty-five miles north of Winchester. Between the two Union strongholds were various outposts, all too small to threaten Jackson, but important nevertheless.

Neither of the Union forces at Romney and Martinsburg were large enough to assault Winchester on their own. Because of this, Jackson fearlessly plotted to divide and conquer them.

He would start with two small garrisons between the Union-held towns. Bath [modern Berkeley Springs], on the Western Virginia side of the Potomac, and Hancock on the Maryland side, were his first targets. While many in Richmond knew about the plan to assail Romney, it’s not clear who, if anyone but Jackson, knew of his plan to first hit Bath and Hancock. Actually, his plan was to hit Bath, destroying the Union outpost, and then, by his mere presence, scatter the troops at Hancock. This would cut off any help that could be brought from Martinsburg while he fell upon Romney.2

Jackson’s superior, General Joseph Johnston in Centreville, whose own troops had gone into winter quarters, approved of his plan to attack the Union force at Romney. Though Jackson wrote that he wanted to prohibit a junction of the Union forces at Martinsburg and Romney, he never mentioned Bath and Hancock. Johnston approved the campaign, but Jackson kept a few items to himself.

On this date, his troops were given their marching orders. They were to be given five days’ rations, rise at 3am, cook their breakfast and step off at 6am.3

The next morning, the first morning of the new year, Jackson would begin his first campaign.


President Lincoln Finally Becomes Commander in Chief

The illness that had gripped Union General George McClellan, called “typhoid fever,” though it was probably some other horrible diarrheal disease like dengue fever, had also gripped Washington with pains of indecision and panic.

President Lincoln’s Cabinet met to discuss McClellan’s illness and what to do without him in a “bald disjointed chat.” Ever since Winfield Scott had retired and been replaced by George McClellan, Attorney General Edward Bates had urged that Lincoln surround himself with military thinkers, that he grasp with both hands the constitutional idea of “Commander in Chief.” Bates asserted that Lincoln must command the army.

The title “General in Chief,” given to Winfield Scott, was more of an honorary position than one of any practical reality. When Scott was awarded the title, the army was small, there was peace throughout the land and nothing more to do than fight random Indians in the West. Now that Scott was gone, McClellan held the position. The army was many times larger than it had been before the war, peace was forgotten and the foe was across the river, rather than across the continent.

In his diary, Bates had mused that if he were president, he “would command in chief – not in detail, certainly – and I would know what army I had and what the high generals (my Lieutenants) were doing with that army.”

Lincoln, thought Bates, had a duty to command. Some believed that all military operations had to stop simply because McClellan was ill. Others thought that Lincoln needed to call a great council of war with the top generals to figure out what to do without McClellan.

After the meeting broke up, Bates returned to his diary, convinced that Lincoln would continue to stand back and let it all drift askew. “I fear that I spoke in vain,” wrote the distraught attorney general. “The Prest. is an excellent man, and in the main wise, but he lacks will and purpose, and, I greatly fear he … has not the power to command.”4

Perhaps Bates’ rallying and cheerleading had finally begun to effect how Lincoln was handling the war. Or maybe it was the absence of General McClellan that made Lincoln step up and become the Commander in Chief that he was.

This change began on this date when President Lincoln became Commander in Chief Lincoln, as he wrote to both Generals Henry Halleck (in Missouri) and Don Carlos Buell (in Kentucky).

To General Halleck in St. Louis, he wrote:

“General McClellan is sick. Are General Buell and yourself in concert? When he moves on Bowling Green, what hinders it being re-enforced from Columbus? A simultaneous movement by you on Columbus might prevent it.”

And to General Buell in Louisville, he wrote:

“General McClellan is sick. Are General Halleck and yourself in concert? When he moves on Bowling Green, what hinders it being re-enforced from Columbus? A simultaneous movement by you on Columbus might prevent it.”5

The replies would come the next day.

  1. Stonewall in the Valley by Robert G. Tanner, Stackpole Books, 1996. []
  2. Stonewall Jackson; The Man, the Soldier, the Legend by James I. Robertson. []
  3. Shenandoah 1862 by Peter Cozzens, University of North Carolina Press, 2008. []
  4. Army of the Potomac; McClellan Takes Command by Russel H. Beatie. []
  5. Offiical Records, Series 1, Vol. 7, p524. []

Burnside Plans His Own Amphibious Assault; Buell Has a Better Idea in Kentucky

December 29, 1861 (Sunday)

Since the Union defeat at the Battle of Bull Run, Ambrose Burnside had been promoted from colonel to brigadier-general and placed in command of the rawest recruits in the Army of the Potomac, under General George McClellan. Quickly growing bored of being little more than a glorified drill sergeant, Burnside, along with many others, noticed McClellan’s lack of forward motion and began to develop a plan of his own.1

Burnside wanted to create a few brigades made up specifically of men from the coast of New England to act as an amphibious assault team. Many of these men were sailors whose lives revolved around the ocean and boats. McClellan, who would later take credit for the idea, was sold, as was the War Department. Burnside was authorized to raise fifteen regiments, and went to New York City to do so.2

The months of November and December were mostly spent in the city raising and accepting regiments into his command, as well as securing vessels for the forthcoming assault. After General Thomas Sherman launched his amphibious attack upon Port Royal, at the end of October, Burnside began moving his regiments to Annapolis, Maryland. The naval arm of his command was assembling at the New York Naval Yard.

For a time, he considered attacking the Texas coast, but then the idea of hitting North Carolina crept into the picture and such an objective sent Burnside on a straight course. By December 20th, he, and the rest of his staff, were in Annapolis celebrating an early Christmas as the three brigades of Burnside’s Amphibious Division drilled on the Naval Academy’s parade grounds.

He had wanted the expedition to be under way before the holiday, but delays in New York dictated otherwise.

On this date, General Burnside met in Washington with President Lincoln and General George McClellan, who was suffering greatly from typhoid fever. There, they hammered down the specific plans of the landing. The final orders would be issued by McClellan, as he was the Army’s commander-in-chief, but while Burnside was ready to move out, McClellan was not.3

What McClellan really wanted was to confuse the Rebels to his front, around Washington. To accomplish this, he wished to use Burnside’s assault, as well as General Don Carlos Buell’s army in Kentucky as feints, hoping to spread the enemy out a bit. He wanted both of these operations to happen simultaneously.4

Since before the eastern Tennessee bridge burnings in early November, both Lincoln and McClellan had been clamoring for a Union advance from Kentucky to come to the aid of the Unionists burning the bridges. Just as General Sherman did before him, General Buell balked at sending a force into Tennessee.

McClellan had repeatedly asked him when such an attack would come, but Buell always gave excuses as to why it couldn’t happen. McClellan wired him again on this date, the same date as the meeting with General Burnside and President Lincoln.

“Can you tell me about when and in what force you will be in Eastern Tennessee?” asked McClellan, passing the buck as he explained that Tennessee senators had “President Lincoln’s sympathies excited.” Buell was also urged to “get the Eastern Tennessee arms and clothing into position for distribution as soon as possible.”5

Buell, who had not yet even begun to move, seems to have been making some preliminary plans to do so. He sent a dispatch to General Schoepf, commanding in Lebanon, Kentucky, that he planned to intercept the Rebels, who he believed were moving north towards Columbia. To Schoepf’s division commander, General George Thomas, also in Lebanon, he sent a detailed map showing the moves that needed to be made to cut off the Rebels. The Confederates in question were, more or less, blocking the advance into eastern Tennessee.

To McClellan, Buell wired that he had 12,000 poised to invade eastern Tennessee, but complained of transportation and that the enemy was not idle.

Later that night, Buell wrote a longer letter to his old friend explaining again why it was taking so long. “It startles me to think how much time has elapsed since my arrival and to find myself still in Louisville,” confessed Buell. While still holding the advance into eastern Tennessee as important, he began to shift his focus upon Columbus and the Tennessee and Cumberland Rivers in the central and western portions of the state.

“It is my conviction that all the force that can possibly be collected should be brought to bear on that front of which Columbus and Bowling Green may be said to be the flanks,” countered Buell. “The center, that is, the Cumberland and Tennessee where the railroad crosses them, is now the most vulnerable point. I regard it as the most important strategical point in the whole field of operations.”6

The area that was becoming the focus for Buell was guarded by Confederate Forts Donelson and Henry. Buell was not alone in this theory, but General McClellan and President Lincoln still wished to aid the Unionists in eastern Tennessee. Their desire to do so would not soon abate.

  1. Burnside by William Marvel, UNC Press, 1991. []
  2. The Civil War in North Carolina by John G., Barrett, Chapel Hill, 1963. []
  3. Burnside by William Marvel, UNC Press, 1991. []
  4. Army of the Potomac, McClellan Takes Command by Russel H. Beatie. []
  5. Official Records, Series 1, Vol. 7, p926. []
  6. Official Records, Series 1, Vol. 7, p520-521. []

No Rest and Little Celebration for Christmas 1861

December 25, 1861 (Wednesday – Christmas)

For some, the first Christmas of the war was a time of rest, where drills and military formalities took a short day off. Around Washington, the mood was full of apprehension and gloom over the Trent Affair, as well as gloom, if the past year was considered in the equation. The eastern theater of war, save for Western Virginia and Port Royal, had seen what seemed like many Union setbacks. For southerners in Richmond, it was a time of hope and celebration. The Trent Affair seemed to be leading the United States headlong into a war with England, while the victories on the fields of battle generally favored the Confederacy. Many believed that the Union would have to attack soon or grant the Confederates States their independence.

In General Stonewall Jackson’s camp, church services took the place of military drill. Officers like Sandie Pendleton, Dr. Hunter McGuire and even Jackson himself enjoyed the frivolities this day provided.1

Though similar scenes were, no doubt, played out along the eastern states, the armies were not far from “business as usual.”

At Centreville, Confederate General Joe Johnston forwarded a message from a spy in Washington claiming that McClellan’s Army of the Potomac was about to advance. It would, said the spy, be at Johnston’s door by January 5th. Because of the dispatch, Johnston took time from whatever festivities he was attending to protest Jackson’s request for 5,000 troops, made just the day before. While he conceded that holding the Shenandoah Valley, where Jackson was stationed, was important, it was “of greater consequence to hold this point.”2

Confederate General John Floyd, meanwhile, celebrated the holidays by beginning his long march to Bowling Green, Kentucky. His Army of the Kanawha had been thoroughly whipped by Union General Rosecrans in Western Virginia, but could still be absorbed into General Albert Sidney Johnston’s Army of Central Kentucky.3

On the Union side, General George B. McClellan was sick in bed. Actually, he was very near death. On the previous day, McClellan missed his regular staff meeting, as well as a meeting with the Joint Committee on the Conduct of the War. McClellan had been diagnosed with typhoid fever, which may not have actually been typhoid as we know it today. It was possible that he had dengue fever or even salmonella poisoning. “Typhoid” was just a generic term given for any number of diarrheal diseases. Needless to say, General McClellan had a fairly bad Christmas.4

Union commander of the Department of Missouri, General Henry Halleck, spent Christmas like he would spend any other day. An early Christmas present arrived in the form of confirmation that Rebel General Sterling Price had retreated past Humansville. He was still about 100 miles from the Arkansas border (his supposed destination), but was most definitely retreating.

With Price out of the way, Halleck renewed his vigor on wiping out the secessionists in central and northern Missouri. Halleck also sent artillery and infantry to Warrenton, where 800 Union troops were gathering to crush the insurrectionists. General William Tecumseh Sherman was also given his first orders since arriving at Benton Barracks after his leave of absence: “Have the battery at the North Missouri Railroad depot at 3 o’clock this afternoon and the Iowa regiment at the same place at 8 o’clock to-morrow morning.”

Most importantly, however, General Halleck sent General Samuel Curtis, a military governor during the Mexican War, to command the southwestern district of Missouri, creating the Union Army of the Southwest. The small army had three divisions under Franz Sigel, Alexander Asboth and Col. Jefferson C. Davis. Halleck himself had already placed Sigel in command in Rolla, where Curtis would soon make his headquarters. Sigel was to ready his division, focusing specifically on the cavalry.5

Clearly General Halleck was not about to let any festive spirit get in the way of duty.


To Establish a Confederate West Coast

Christmas Day saw the departure of Col. James Reily from the Confederate Army of New Mexico. Reily, originally from Ohio, had relocated to Texas in the 1830s, even serving in the Army of the Republic of Texas as a Major. In the pursuing decade, he negotiated with Daniel Webster a treaty between the United States and Texas, but being against annexation, he was ousted from his post. During the Mexican War, Reily led a US regiment, but after the war, as the politics edged closer to a war between north and south, he left the Whig party and joined with the Democrats, purely on the issue of slavery and became a secessionist. Just as the Civil War was breaking out, Reily was commissioned a colonel in the 4th Texas Mounted Rifles. He was seen as an ideal southern gentleman, on par with Robert E. Lee.

Reily had, thus far, spent most of the war marching to Fort Bliss with his regiment, but on this Christmas morning, he found himself saying good-bye to the men he commanded. General Henry Sibley, commander of the Army of New Mexico, had selected him for a diplomatic mission into Mexico.

Due to the problems Mexico faced internally, as well as with England, France and Spain, the states had become, more or less, autonomous. Riley was to be his representative to the states of Chihuahua and Sonora.

Specifically, he was to find out if Mexico was about to allow US troops to march across her land to invade the Confederacy from the south. If Mexico was going to allow this, Reily was to find out if Chihuahua and Sonora would come to the defense of the South, in effect creating a civil war in Mexico as well. He was also to broker an agreement with the governor of Sonora, along the Pacific coast, that would allow the Confederacy to establish a depot in the port of Guaymas. This would give the South a west coast, potentially opening trade with the east.

He would not return until April.6

  1. Stonewall Jackson by James I Robertson. []
  2. Official Records, Series 1, Vol. 5, p1007-1008. []
  3. Official Records, Series 1, Vol. 7, p796. []
  4. Army of the Potomac; McClellan Takes Command by Russel Beatie. Do you have any idea how difficult it was to resist saying that “McClellan had a crappy Christmas”? []
  5. Official Records, Series 1, Vol. 8, p460-462. []
  6. Sibley’s New Mexico Campaign by Martin Hardwick Hall. []

Stonewall Waits for Loring, Plans Attack Anyway; Floyd to Kentucky

December 24, 1861 (Tuesday, Christmas Eve)

Since the Battle of Allegheny Mountain, a week and a half ago, Confederate General William Loring’s Army of the Northwest had been slowly filtering into Winchester, Virginia to fortify General Stonewall Jackson’s numbers for a winter campaign towards Romney.

During the long wait, an anxious Jackson again attempted to break Dam No. 5. This time, Jackson accompanied his men, but still could do no permanent damage to the dam. Though a full breach would have been wonderful, for Jackson, this seemed as if it were merely something to pass the time until General Loring finally made it to Winchester.

By the 21st, Jackson was back from the dam busting and, still, Loring was absent. Three days later, on the morning of Christmas Eve, Jackson wrote to the head of the Department of Northern Virginia, full of worry.1

“As yet General Loring has not arrived,” wrote a distraught Jackson, “and as he has not reported to me the strength of his command I am unable to give it, except by estimate based upon the number of his regiments.” Through scouts, Jackson had learned that the Union troops near Romney now numbered nearly 10,000 and were being reinforced daily. With Loring’s Army, he would perhaps have 7,500 at his disposal.

“I would respectfully urge upon the commanding general of the department the importance of sending me at once 5,000 good infantry and the First Virginia Cavalry, or its equivalent, and also a battery of four guns,” Jackson asked, hoping for the best. To possibly sweeten the deal, he promised to return all reinforcements “after the Federal forces shall have been captured or driven out of Hampshire County.”

Jackson then tried to read the minds of the Union generals. He mused that General Kelley in Romney was most likely planning on moving his force, first to Martinsburg, where he would join forces with General Banks. Naturally, Jackson wanted to hit Kelley before he had a chance to either gain more reinforcements or join with Banks.

While Jackson was writing the dispatch, General Loring rode into camp and immediately got under Jackson’s skin by telling him that Secretary of War Judah Benjamin “left it optional with him whether to bring his troops from the Monterey line or not, and he has decided not to bring any more of these troops here.”

With the enemy gaining more troops every day, and Jackson set to receive no more, there was only one thing that he could do: “attack him at the earliest practicable moment.”2


Floyd to Kentucky, but Not Quite Yet

Confederate General John Floyd, former Secretary of War under President Buchanan, had been licked in Western Virginia. The remnants of his Army of the Kanawha had retreated to Dublin, Virginia, fifty miles southwest of Roanoke. They were cold, penniless and, according to Floyd, “going off rapidly.”

To curb their flight, Floyd wished for both money and supplies as, “many of our people are without a dollar and in great need.”3

On December 16, Floyd and all but one regiment of his command was ordered to reinforce General Albert Sidney Johnston in Bowling Green, Kentucky as soon as possible.

By Christmas Eve, however, it was still impossible to move his men. Secretary Benjamin told Floyd to make sure that “no further delay occur in making this movement than such as may be absolutely necessary to put your troops in proper condition for movement.”4

Floyd’s move to central Kentucky was not only anticipated by the Union forces in that region, but, on this date, James Barnet Fry, General Buell’s adjutant, reported that Floyd’s brigade had already arrived at Bowling Green. In reality, Floyd was about 400 miles east.5

It had only been four days since General A.S. Johnston asked for Floyd to be sent to Kentucky. Secretary Benjamin promised that Floyd’s 2,500 men would be there by Christmas.6

It would take Floyd a bit longer, though, surprisingly, not by much.

  1. Stonewall Jackson by James I. Robertson. []
  2. Official Records, Series 1, Vol. 5, p1004-1005. []
  3. Official Records, Series 1, Vol. 5, p1006. []
  4. Official Records, Series 1, Vol. 5, p1000. []
  5. Official Records, Series 1, Vol. 7, p515. []
  6. Official Records, Series 1, Vol. 7, p779. []

Unlikely Union Victory at Rowett’s Station, Kentucky

December 17, 1861 (Tuesday)

It had been a month since Union General Don Carlos Buell took over the Department of the Ohio from General William Tecumseh Sherman. For a time, little had changed. Buell was just as reluctant to push forward as Sherman did. Though there was much prodding from Washington, Buell seemed unsure what was in front of him.

Confederate General Albert Sidney Johnston’s line cut across southern Kentucky with strongholds near Columbus (to the west), Bowling Green (center), and Mill Springs (to the east). Aside from General Grant’s command near Paducah, which did not fall under Buell’s jurisdiction, the Union forces in Kentucky were centered on Columbia, Munfordville and Somerset.

The taking of Munfordville was actually a recent development. In the beginning of December, the Confederate line rested on the twisting Green River, just south of the town. Before the Union troops under General Alexander McDowell McCook even approached, Confederate General Simon Bolivar Buckner ordered the railroad bridge across the Green to be destroyed to halt the Union advance along the Louisville & Nashville Railroad.

McCook and his division reached the bridge on December 10th. Fortunately for them, the bridge only sustained damage on the southern end. This required a detail of bridge builders and a military escort to set up shop on the southern bank of the Green. A pontoon bridge was to be constructed, reconnecting Munfordville with Woodsonville.1

It was the 32nd Indiana, a German-speaking regiment commanded by Col. August Willich, that had been selected to guard the bridge building. To protect the bridge, four companies were posted on its north side, with another four on its southern end. The two remaining companies took up posts two miles south of the crossing, at Rowlett’s Station.

Around noon, Confederate skirmishers were spotted on the right of the Union picket line. Several shots were exchanged, but Company B of the 32nd rallied together and pushed the Rebels back. Meanwhile, Company C, the other advance company, pushed south along the turnpike until they ran into the 8th Texas Cavalry, also known as the Texas Rangers, and pushed them back.

Knowing that they were outnumbered, the two advance companies sent word back to the rest of the regiment. Col. Willich and the 32nd responded immediately. The eight companies rushed across the pontoon bridge, up the bank of the Green and formed a line of battle across the turnpike, pointing south.

The crossing surprised the Texans, commanded by General Thomas Hindman, who were accompanied by artillery and two Arkansas infantry regiments. In his report Hindman stated that the Union had several regiments that crossed at this time. In truth, all that protected the bridge was this single Indiana outfit.

The Rebels were not staggered for long, however. After about a half-hour lull, the Texas Rangers came screaming and firing at the Hoosiers, who were deployed in a loose skirmish line. The riders were quickly within the Union ranks, the fighting bloody and fierce. A large body of Texans surrounded a platoon, demanding the sword of its lieutenant. He refused and chose to die for his cause. The wave of Rebels soon broke, repulsed by rifles on the Union right.

On the center and left, several Union companies advanced against the Texans, who met the challenge with another charge, again breaking the blue line. This too was repulsed with the help of a company held in reserve along the pike.

The battle had fallen relatively quiet when Confederate artillery opened an accurate, but ultimately only noisy fire upon Col. Willich’s men. As the barrage echoed through the valley, the Union right was again assailed by about 150 Texas Rangers. Three Indiana companies were holding the line as the Rangers charged, firing shotguns at fifteen yards. The Union troops put up a fight, but soon retreated to the cover of another company, which had formed a hollow square for protection.

Thinking they could simply ride over the square, the Rangers came at the well-protected and compact body of about fifty men. When they rode to within twenty yards of the square, the men unleashed a sharp, concentrated volley upon them, scattering the horsemen for the time being.

The Rangers tried again, charging the front as well as the left and right. In this endeavor, they fared no better. A third charge was attempted, but it lacked the spirit of the first two, and was quickly dispersed from the field.

Not yet out of danger, the square of Indiana boys next heard the 1st Arkansas’ band playing a march as the enemy infantry took up where the Rangers left off. Not wanting to be overrun by infantry, the square on the Union right retreated to the banks of the Green.

Col. Willich himself took command of the right flank of his regiment, rallied his men and quickly took in the situation. The left of the regiment held the pike, their line of retreat across the river. If the right wing were completely scattered, Rebel infantry would take the pike from the rear of his left wing. Knowing he could do little against two regiments of infantry and one of cavalry, not to mention the artillery, Willich ordered a slow retreat. The Confederates, it seemed, were poised to win the day.

Two things then happened that changed the fate of the battle. First, when forming Companies B and G of the right wing to retire, the enemy seemed to believe that Willich had received reinforcements and backed off from making another attack. Second, on the Union left, Company A had been slow at getting into line and must have gotten a bit lost. They appeared (probably accidentally) on the Confederate right flank, threatening the artillery, which quickly limbered their guns and retreated. With the cavalry and artillery dispersed, the Rebel infantry followed suit and Willich’s Indiana regiment held the field.

Believing that they were outnumbered two to one, the Rebels retreated ten miles to their camp at Cave City.2

Losses from the battle are difficult to calculate. Both sides grossly exaggerated the others’ losses and probably misrepresented their own. Union losses were probably thirteen killed, about thirty wounded and three to seven missing. Confederate General Hindman reported that only four had been killed and ten wounded, but it was likely several times more than that, possibly as many as ninty-one casualties, with thirty or so killed.3

Though the results of battle have been classified as “inconclusive,” the Union troops did hold back the enemy and retained control of the field. It’s unclear how that is not a victory.

  1. The Civil War in Kentucky by Kent Masterson Brown. []
  2. Official Records, Series 1, Vol. 8, p17-20. []
  3. The National Park Service maintains that there were forty Union casualties and ninety-one Confederate. []