Stonewall Jackson and the American Civil War
had never been called to council by the President, and the members of
the Legislature, with but few exceptions, had no acquaintance with the
man who acted while they deliberated. But his fame had spread far and
wide, and not merely the fame of his victories, but of his Christian
character. The rare union of strength and simplicity, of child-like
faith and the most fiery energy, had attracted the sympathy of the
whole country, of the North as well as of the South; and beyond the
Atlantic, where with breathless interest the parent islands were
watching the issue of the mighty conflict, it seemed that another
Cromwell without Cromwell’s ambition, or that another Wolfe with more
than Wolfe’s ability, had arisen among the soldiers of the youngest of
nations. And this interest was intensified by his untimely end.
When it was reported that Jackson had fallen, men murmured in their
dismay against the fiat of the Almighty. “Why,” they asked, “had one so
pure and so upright been suddenly cut down?” Yet a sufficient answer
was not far to seek. To the English race, in whatever quarter of the
globe it holds dominion, to the race of Alfred and De Montfort, of
Bruce and Hampden, of Washington and Gordon, the ideal of manhood has
ever been a high one. Self-sacrifice and the single heart are the
attributes which it most delights to honour; and chief amongst its
accepted heroes are those soldier-saints who, sealing their devotion
with their lives, have won
Death’s royal purple in the foeman’s lines.
So, from his narrow grave on the green hillside at Lexington, Jackson
speaks with voice more powerful than if, passing peacefully away, in
the fulness of years and honours, he had found a resting-place in some
proud sepulchre, erected by a victorious and grateful commonwealth. And
who is there who can refuse to listen? His creed may not be ours; but
in whom shall we find a firmer faith, a mind more humble, a sincerity
more absolute? He had his temptations like the rest of us. His passions
were strong; his temper was hot; forgiveness never came easily to him,
and he loved power. He dreaded strong liquor because he liked it; and
if in his nature there were great capacities for good, there were none
the less, had it been once perverted, great capacities for evil.
Fearless and strong, self-dependent and ambitious, he had within him
the making of a Napoleon, and yet his name is without spot or blemish.
From his boyhood onward, until he died on the Rappahannock, he was the
very model of a Christian gentleman:—
E’en as he trod that day to God, so walked he from his birth,
In simpleness, and gentleness, and honour, and clean mirth.
Paradox as it may sound, the great rebel was the most loyal of men. His
devotion to Virginia was hardly surpassed by his devotion to his wife.
And he made no secret
of his absolute dependence on a higher power. Every action was a
prayer, for every action was begun and ended in the name of the
Almighty. Consciously and unconsciously, in deed as in word, in the
quiet of his home and in the tumult of battle, he fastened to his soul
those golden chains “that bind the whole round earth about the feet of
God.” Nor was their burden heavy. “He was the happiest man,” says one
of his friends, “I ever knew,” and he was wont to express his surprise
that others were less happy than himself.
But there are few with Jackson’s power of concentration. He fought evil
with the same untiring energy that he fought the North. His relations
to his moral duties were governed by the same strong purpose, the same
clear perception of the aim to be achieved, and of the means whereby it
was to be achieved, as his manœuvres on the field of battle. He was
always thorough. And it was because he was thorough—true, steadfast,
and consistent, that he reached the heroic standard. His attainments
were not varied. His interests, so far as his life’s work was
concerned, were few and narrow. Beyond his religion and the army he
seldom permitted his thoughts to stray. His acquaintance with art was
small. He meddled little with politics. His scholarship was not
profound, and he was neither sportsman nor naturalist. Compared with
many of the prominent figures of history the range of his capacity was
limited.
And yet Jackson’s success in his own sphere was phenomenal, while
others, perhaps of more pronounced ability, seeking success in many
different directions, have failed to find it in a single one. Even when
we contrast his recorded words with the sayings of those whom the world
calls great—statesmen, orators, authors—his inferiority is hardly
apparent. He saw into the heart of things, both human and divine, far
deeper than most men. He had an extraordinary facility for grasping the
essential and discarding the extraneous. His language was simple and
direct, without elegance or embellishment, and yet no one has excelled
him in crystallising great principles in a single phrase. The few
maxims which fell from his lips are
almost a complete summary of the art of war. Neither Frederick, nor
Wellington, nor Napoleon realised more deeply the simple truths which
ever since men first took up arms have been the elements of success;
and not Hampden himself beheld with clearer insight the duties and
obligations which devolve on those who love their country well, but
freedom more.
It is possible that the conflicts of the South are not yet ended. In
America men pray for peace, but dark and mysterious forces, threatening
the very foundations of civic liberty, are stirring even now beneath
their feet. The War of Secession may be the precursor of a fiercer and
a mightier struggle, and the volunteers of the Confederacy, enduring
all things and sacrificing all things, the prototype and model of a new
army, in which North and South shall march to battle side by side.
_Absit omen!_ But in whatever fashion his own countrymen may deal with
the problems of the future, the story of Stonewall Jackson will tell
them in what spirit they should be faced. Nor has that story a message
for America alone. The hero who lies buried at Lexington, in the Valley
of Virginia, belongs to a race that is not confined to a single
continent; and to those who speak the same tongue, and in whose veins
the same blood flows, his words come home like an echo of all that is
noblest in their history: “What is life without honour? Degradation is
worse than death. We must think of the living and of those who are to
come after us, and see that by God’s blessing we transmit to them the
freedom we have ourselves inherited.”
NOTE I
Mr. W. P. St. John, President of the Mercantile Bank of New York,
relates the following incident:—A year or two ago he was in the
Shenandoah Valley with General Thomas Jordan, C.S.A., and at the close
of the day they found themselves at the foot of the mountains in a wild
and lonely place; there was no village, and no house, save a rough
shanty for the use of the “track-walker” on the railroad. It was not an
attractive place for rest, yet here they were forced to pass the night,
and to sit down to such supper as might be provided in so desolate a
spot. The unprepossessing look of everything was completed when the
host came in and took his seat at the head of the table. A bear out of
the woods could hardly have been rougher, with his unshaven hair and
unkempt beard. He answered to the type of border ruffian, and his
appearance suggested the dark deeds that might be done here in secret,
and hidden in the forest gloom. Imagine the astonishment of the
travellers when this rough backwoodsman rapped on the table and bowed
his head. And such a prayer! “Never,” says Mr. St. John, “did I hear a
petition that more evidently came from the heart. It was so simple, so
reverent, so tender, so full of humility and penitence, as well as of
thankfulness. We sat in silence, and as soon as we recovered ourselves
I whispered to General Jordan, ‘Who can he be?’ To which he answered,
‘I don’t know, but he must be one of Stonewall Jackson’s old soldiers.’
And he was. As we walked out in the open air, I accosted our new
acquaintance, and after a few questions about the country, asked, ‘Were
you in the war?’ ‘Oh, yes,’ he said with a smile, ‘I was out with Old
Stonewall.’”—_Southern Historical Society Papers,_ vol. xix, p. 871.
NOTE II
LIST OF KILLED AND WOUNDED (EXCLUDING PRISONERS) IN
GREAT BATTLES
_(The victorious side is given first)_
Name of battle Number of troops Killed and
wounded Total Total
% % of
victor Blenheim, 1704 Allies, 56,000 French, 60,000 11,000
20,000 31,000 26 19 Ramilies, 1706 Allies, 60,000 French,
62,000 3,600 8,000 11,600 9 6 Oudenarde, 1708 Allies,
85,000 French, 85,000 10,000 10,000 20,000 11 11
Malplaquet, 1709 Allies, 100,000 French, 100,000 14,000
20,000 34,000 17 14 Dettingen, 1743 Allies, 37,000 French,
60,000 2,350 7,000 9,350 9 6 Fontenoy, 1745 French,
50,000 Allies, 40,000 6,000 7,300 13,300 14 12 Prague,
1757 Prussians, 64,000 Austrians, 60,000 12,000
10,000 22,000 17 18 Kollin, 1757 Austrians, 53,000
Prussians, 34,000 8,000 11,000 19,000 21 15 Rosbach,
1757 Prussians, 22,000 Allies, 46,000 541
4,000 4,541 6 2 Leuthen, 1757 Prussians, 30,000 Austrians,
80,000 6,000 10,000 16,000 14 20 Breslau,
1757 Austrians, 80,000 Prussians, 30,000 5,700
6,000 11,700 10 7 Zorndorf, 1758 Prussians, 32,760
Russians, 52,000 12,000 20,000 32,000 38 37 Hochkirch,
1758 Austrians, 90,000 Prussians, 42,000 6,000
8,000 14,000 10 8 Créfeld, 1758 Allies, 33,000 French,
47,000 1,700 4,000 5,700 7 5 Zullichau, 1759 Russians,
72,000 Prussians, 27,500 4,800 6,000 10,800 10 6
Kunnersdorf, 1759 Allies, 70,000 Prussians, 43,000 14,000
17,000 31,000 27 20 Minden, 1759 Allies, 37,000 French and
Saxons, 52,000 2,800
7,000 9,800 11 7 Torgau, 1760 Prussians, 46,000 Austrians,
60,000 12,000 12,000 24,000 22 26 Leignitz,
1760 Prussians, 30,000 Austrians, 35,000 3,000
5,000 8,000 12 10 Lonato and Castiglione, 1796 French,
44,000 Austrians, 46,000 7,000 10,000 17,000 18 15 Rivoli,
1797 French, 18,000 Austrians, 28,000 4,500
10,000 14,500 30 25 Marengo, 1800 French, 28,000 Austrians,
30,000 5,000 8,000 13,000 22 17 Hohenlinden,
1800 French, 56,000 Austrians, 50,000 2,500
12,000 14,500 13 4 Austerlitz, 1805 French, 65,000 Allies,
83,000 9,000 16,000 25,000 16 13 Jena, 1806 French,
58,000 Prussians, 40,000 5,000 12,000 17,000 17 8
Auerstadt, 1806 French, 28,000 Prussians, 45,000 9,500
6,000 15,500 22 33 Eylau, 1807 French, 70,000 Russians,
63,500 20,000 22,000 42,000 33 28 Heilsberg,
1807 Russians, 84,000 French, 85,000 10,000
12,000 22,000 13 11 Friedland, 1807 French, 75,000
Russians, 67,000 10,000 24,000 34,000 23 13 Vimiero,
1808 English, 18,000 French, 14,000 720 2,000 2,720 8 4
Eckmühl, 1809 French, 65,000 Austrians, 80,000 7,000
8,000 15,000 10 10 Aspern, 1809 Austrians, 75,000 French,
95,000 20,000 25,000 45,000 26 26 Wagram, 1809 French,
220,000 Austrians, 150,000 22,000 22,000 44,000 11 10
Talavera, 1809 English and Spanish, 53,000 French, 56,000 7,200
8,300 15,500 14 13 Albuera, 1811 Allies, 32,000 French,
22,500 6,750 7,000 13,750 25 20 Salamanca, 1812 Allies,
44,000 French, 47,000 5,000 10,000 15,000 16 11 Borodino,
1812 French, 125,000 Russians, 138,000 30,000
45,000 75,000 28 24 Bautzen, 1813 French, 190,000 Allies,
110,000 12,000 12,000 10,000 8 6 Vittoria, 1813 Allies,
83,000 French, 60,000 5,000 5,000 10,000 7 6 Leipsic,
1813 Allies, 290,000 French, 150,000 42,000
50,000 92,000 20 14 Orthez, 1814 Allies, 37,000 French,
40,000 2,250 3,800 6,050 7 6 Toulouse, 1814 Allies,
52,000 French, 38,000 4,650 5,900 10,550 11 9 La Rothière,
1814 Allies, 80,000 French, 40,000 6,500
6,000 12,500 10 8 Montmirail, 1814 French, 25,000 Allies,
39,000 2,000 3,000 5,000 7 8 Laon, 1814 Allies, 60,000
French, 52,000 2,000 7,000 9,000 8 3 Ligny, 1815 French,