69. Stonewall Jackson as a Man
BY A VIRGINIAN (1863)
[_]
Thomas J. Jackson, commonly called "Stonewall because his brigade at Bull Run stood
"like a stone wall"was one of the ablest Confederate commanders.
WE have seen what Jackson accomplished. Let us now
endeavor to see what manner of man, outwardly, it was who
thus overthrew all his enemies, and built himself a name which
is the echo of glory and victory. How such men look is
interesting how they dress and appear among their fellow-men.
Jackson's costume and deportment were unique, and have
doubtless contributed in some degree to that amazing
individuality which he has secured in the popular mind. The
writer of these lines first saw him soon after the battle of Port
Republic, and can thus present an outline of the great athlete,
as he appeared, all covered with the dust of the arena,
whereon Banks and his compeers had been overthrown by
him. Jackson was in his fighting costume at the moment; it
was the conqueror of the Valley who moved before us; and, to
complete the picture, he had, at the moment when we first
encountered him, his war-look on— was in his veritable
element.
The outward appearance of the famous leader was not
imposing. The popular idea of a great general is an individual
of stiff and stately bearing, clad in splendid costume, all
covered with gold lace and decorations, who prances by upon
a mettled charger, and moves on, before admiring crowds,
accompanied by his glittering staff, and grand in all the
magnificence of high command. The figure of General
Stonewall Jackson was singularly different from this popular
fancy. He wore an old sun-embrowned coat of gray cloth,
originally a very plain one, and now almost out
at elbows. To call it sun-embrowned, however, is scarcely to
convey an adequate idea of the extent of its discoloration. It
had that dingy hue, the result of exposure to rain and snow
and scorching sunshine, which is so unmistakable. It was
plain that the general had often stretched his weary form upon
the bare ground, and slept in the old coat; and it seemed to
have brought away with it no little of the dust of the Valley. A
holiday soldier would have disdained to wear such a garb; but
the men of the old Stonewall Brigade, with their brave
comrades of the corps, loved that coat, and admired it and its
owner more than all the holiday uniforms and holiday warriors
in the world.
The general rode in a peculiar fashion, leaning forward
somewhat, and apparently unconscious that he was in the
saddle. His air was singularly abstracted; and, unless aware of
his identity, no beholder would have dreamed that this plainly
clad and absent-looking soldier was the idolized leader of a
great army corps, at that very instant hurling themselves,
column after column, upon the foe.
The glittering eye beneath the yellow cap would have altered
somewhat the impression that this man was a nobody—that
wonderful eye, in whose blaze was the evidence of a
slumbering volcano beneath; but beyond this, there was
absolutely nothing in the appearance of General Jackson to
indicate his great rank or genius as a soldier.
Such was the outward man of the famous general, as he
appeared soon after the campaign of the Valley-and this
plainness of exterior had in no small degree endeared him to
his soldiers. His habits were still greater claims on the respect
and regard of the best men of his command. He was known to
be
wholly free from all those vices which are the peculiar
temptation of a military life. He lived as plainly as his men, and
shared all their hardships, never for a moment acting upon the
hypothesis that his rank entitled him to any luxury or comfort
which they could not share. His food was plain and simple; his
tent, when he had one, which was seldom, no better
than those of the men; he would wrap himself in
his blankets and lie down under a tree or in a fence
corner, with perfect content, and apparently from
preference; for to fight hard and live hard seemed to
be the theory of war. He was a devout Christian,
and rarely allowed passion to conquer him; when he
yielded, it was on exciting occasions, and when great
designs were thwarted by negligence or incapacity on the part
of those to whom their execution was intrusted. Such occasions
seldom occurred, and Jackson's habitual temper of mind was a
gentle and childlike sweetness; a simplicity and purity of heart,
which proved that he had indeed become as a little child walking
humbly and devoutly before his God. Prayer was like breathing
with him—the normal condition of his being. Every morning he
read his Bible and prayed, and the writer will not soon forget the
picture drawn by one of his distinguished associates, who rode
to his headquarters at daylight, last November, when the army
was falling back to Fredericksburg from the Valley, and found
him reading his Testament, quietly in !is tent, an occupation
which he only interrupted to describe, in tones of quiet
simplicity, his intended movements to foil the enemy. Before
sitting down to table he raised both hands, and said grace.
When he contemplated any movement, his old servant is said to
have always known it by his wrestling in prayer for many hours
of the night; and on the battle-field thousands noticed the
singular gestures with the right arm, sometimes both arms,
raised aloft. Those who looked closely at him at such moments
saw his lips moving in prayer. Like Joshua,. he prayed with
uplifted hand for victory.