Stonewall Jackson and the American Civil War
the present conscription is now in many splendid instances most
promptly and cheerfully complied with by the wealthy people who could
easily purchase exemption, but who prefer to set a good example.”
Letter from Rhode Island, the _Times,_ August 8, 1863.
[3] John Mitchell, the Irish Nationalist, said in a letter to the
Dublin Nation that there were 40,000 Irishmen in the Southern armies.
The _Times,_ February 7, 1863.
[4] In the opinion of the author, the charge of centralisation
preferred against Napoleon can only be applied to his leading in his
later campaigns. In his earlier operations he gave his generals every
latitude, and be maintamed that loose but effective system of tactics,
in which much was left to the individual, adopted by the French army
just previous to the wars of the Revolution.
[5] _Bright Skies and Dark Shadows,_ p. 294. H. M. Field, D.D.
[6] The historical student may profitably compare with the American
soldier the Armies of Revolutionary France, in which education and
intelligence were also conspicuous.
[7] _Official Account of the Franco-German War,_ vol. ii, p. 168.
[8] Lee to Hood, May 21, 1863; _Advance and Retreat,_ p. 58.
[9] _Soldier Life in the Army of Northern Virginia._
[10] General Longstreet relates an amusing story: “One of the
soldiers, during the investment of Suffolk (April 1863), carefully
constructed and equipped a full-sized man, dressed in a new suit of
improved ‘butternut’ clothing; and christening him Julius Cæsar took
him to a signal platform which overlooked the works, adjusted him to a
graceful position, and made him secure to the framework by strong
cords. A little after sunrise ‘Julius Cæsar’ was discovered by some of
the Federal battery officers, who prepared for the target so inviting
to skilful practice. The new soldier sat under the hot fire with
irritating indifference until the Confederates, unable to restrain
their hilarity, exposed the joke by calling for ‘Three cheers for
Julius Cæsar!’ The other side quickly recognised the situation, and
good-naturedly added to ours their cheers for the old hero.” _From
Manassas to Apomattox._
[11] “During the truce on the second day of Fredericksburg,” says
Captain Smith, “a tall, fine-looking Alabama soldier, who was one of
the litter-bearers, picked up a new Enfield rifle on the neutral
ground, examined it, tested the sights, shouldered it, and was walking
back to the Confederate lines, when a young Federal officer, very
handsomely dressed and mounted, peremptorily ordered him to throw it
down, telling him he had no right to take it. The soldier, with the
rifle on his shoulder, walked very deliberately round the officer,
scanning him from head to foot, and then started again towards our
lines. On this the Federal Lieutenant, drawing his little sword,
galloped after him, and ordered him with an oath to throw down the
rifle. The soldier halted, then walked round the officer once again,
very slowly, looking him up and down, and at last said, pointing to
his fine boots: ‘I shall shoot you tomorrow, and get them boots;’ then
strode away to his command. The Lieutenant made no attempt to follow.”
[12] Despite Lee’s proclamations against indiscriminate foraging, “the
hens,” he said, “had to roost mighty high when the Texans were about.”
[13] _The Conduct of War._ Von der Goltz.
[14] _Southern Historical Society Papers,_ vol. xiii, p. 261.
[15] _Memoirs of General Robert E. Lee._ By A. L. Long, Military
Secretary and Brigadier-General, pp. 685–6.
[16] _Memoirs, etc.,_ p. 619. Letter dated March 21, 1863.
[17] _Memoirs, etc.,_ p. 684. By A. L. Long.
[18] _Three Months in the Southern States._ General Sir Arthur
Fremantle, G.C.B.
[19] _Bright Skies and Dark Shadows._ Rev. H. M. Field, D.D., p. 286.
[20] Communicated by the Rev. Dr. Graham.
[21] _Memoirs,_ pp. 536–7.
[22] The five regimental commanders of the Stonewall Brigade were once
placed under arrest at the same time for permitting their men to burn
fence-rails; they were not released until they had compensated the
farmer.
[23] Dabney, vol. II, pp. 519–520.
Chapter XXII
WINTER QUARTERS
1863 During the long interval which intervened between the battle of
Fredericksburg and the next campaign, Jackson employed himself in
preparing the reports of his battles, which had been called for by the
Commander-in-Chief. They were not compiled in their entirety by his own
hand. He was no novice at literary composition, and his pen, as his
letter-book shows, was not that of an unready writer. He had a good
command of language, and that power of clear and concise expression
which every officer in command of a large force, a position naturally
entailing a large amount of confidential correspondence, must
necessarily possess. But the task now set him was one of no ordinary
magnitude. Since the battle of Kernstown, the report of which had been
furnished in April 1862, the time had been too fully occupied to admit
of the crowded events being placed on record, and more than one-half of
the division, brigade, and regimental commanders who had been engaged
in the operations of the period had been killed. Nor, even now, did his
duties permit him the necessary leisure to complete the work without
assistance. On his requisition, therefore, Colonel Charles Faulkner,
who had been United States Minister to France before the war, was
attached to his staff for the purpose of collecting the reports of the
subordinate commanders, and combining them in the proper form. The
rough drafts were carefully gone over by the general. Every sentence
was weighed; and everything that might possibly convey a wrong
impression was at once rejected; evidence was called to clear up
disputed points;
no inferences or suppositions were allowed to stand; truth was never
permitted to be sacrificed to effect; superlatives were rigorously
excluded,[1] and the narratives may be unquestionably accepted as an
accurate relation of the facts. Many stirring passages were added by
the general’s own pen; and the praise bestowed upon the troops, both
officers and men, is couched in the warmest terms. Yet much was
omitted. Jackson had a rooted objection to represent the motives of his
actions, or to set forth the object of his movements. In reply to a
remonstrance that those who came after him would be embarrassed by the
absence of these explanations, and that his fame would suffer, he said:
“The men who come after me must act for themselves; and as to the
historians who speak of the movements of my command, I do not concern
myself greatly as to what they may say.” To judge, then, from the
reports, Jackson himself had very little to do with his success;
indeed, were they the only evidence available, it would be difficult to
ascertain whether the more brilliant manœuvres were ordered by himself
or executed on the initiative of others. But in this he was perfectly
consistent. When the publisher of an illustrated periodical wrote to
him, asking him for his portrait and some notes of his battles as the
basis of a sketch, he replied that he had no likeness of himself, and
had done nothing worthy of mention. It is not without interest, in this
connection, to note that the Old Testament supplied him with a pattern
for his reports, just as it supplied him, as he often declared, with
precepts and principles applicable to every military emergency. After
he was wounded, enlarging one morning on his favourite topic of
practical religion, he turned to the staff officer in attendance,
Lieutenant Smith, and asked him with a smile: “Can you tell me where
the Bible gives generals a model for their official reports of
battles?” The aide-de-camp answered, laughing, that it never entered
his mind to think of looking for such a thing
in the Scriptures. “Nevertheless,” said the general, “there are such;
and excellent models, too. Look, for instance, at the narrative of
Joshua’s battles with the Amalekites; there you have one. It has
clearness, brevity, modesty; and it traces the victory to its right
source, the blessing of God.”
The early spring of 1863 was undoubtedly one of the happiest seasons of
a singularly happy life. Jackson’s ambition, if the desire for such
rank that would enable him to put the powers within him to the best use
may be so termed, was fully gratified. The country lad who,
one-and-twenty years ago, on his way to West Point, had looked on the
green hills of Virginia from the Capitol at Washington, could hardly
have anticipated a higher destiny than that which had befallen him.
Over the hearts and wills of thirty thousand magnificent soldiers, the
very flower of Southern manhood, his empire was absolute; and such
dominion is neither the heritage of princes nor within the reach of
wealth. The most trusted lieutenant of his great commander, the strong
right arm with which he had executed his most brilliant enterprises, he
shared with him the esteem and admiration not only of the army but of
the whole people of the South. The name he had determined, in his
lonely boyhood, to bring back to honour already ranked with those of
the Revolutionary heroes. Even his enemies, for the brave men at the
front left rancour to the politicians, were not proof against the
attraction of his great achievements. A friendly intercourse, not
always confined to a trade of coffee for tobacco, existed between the
outposts; “Johnnies” and “Yanks” often exchanged greetings across the
Rappahannock; and it is related that one day when Jackson rode along
the river, and the Confederate troops ran together, as was their
custom, to greet him with a yell, the Federal pickets, roused by the
sudden clamour, crowded to the bank, and shouted across to ask the
cause. “General Stonewall Jackson,” was the proud reply of the
grey-coated sentry. Immediately, to his astonishment, the cry, “Hurrah
for Stonewall Jackson!” rang out from the Federal ranks, and the voices
of North
and South, prophetic of a time to come, mingled in acclamation of a
great American.
The situation of the army, although the winter was unusually severe,
was not without its compensations. The country was covered with snow,
and storms were frequent; rations were still scarce,[2] for the single
line of badly laid rails, subjected to the strain of an abnormal
traffic, formed a precarious means of transport; every spring and pond
was frozen; and the soldiers shivered beneath their scanty
coverings.[3] Huts, however, were in process of erection, and the
goodwill of the people did something to supply the deficiencies of the
commissariat.[4] The homes of Virginia were stripped, and many—like
Jackson himself, whose blankets had already been sent from Lexington to
his old brigade—ordered their carpets to be cut up into rugs and
distributed amongst the men. But neither cold nor hunger could crush
the spirit of the troops. The bivouacs were never merrier than on the
bare hills and in the dark pine-woods which looked down on the ruins
and the graves of Fredericksburg. Picket duty was
light, for the black waters of the great river formed a secure barrier
against attack; and if the men’s stomachs were empty, they could still
feast their eyes on a charming landscape. “To the right and left the
wooded range extended towards Fredericksburg on the one hand, and Port
Royal on the other; in front, the far-stretching level gave full sweep
to the eye; and at the foot of its forest-clad bluffs, or by the margin
of undulating fields, the Rappahannock flowed calmly to the sea. Old
mansions dotted this beautiful land—for beautiful it was in spite of
the chill influences of winter, with its fertile meadows, its
picturesque woodlands, and its old roads skirted by long lines of