They Called Him Stonewall

by Davis, Burke;

  Douglas boarded the train as it was leaving for Richmond. Along the route, at every station, and at points between, crowds hailed the train, and at Ashland a group of women entered to place fresh flowers and wreaths on the coffin. By three o’clock the train reached Richmond, and at the station a procession of dignitaries and soldiers took over the casket. One of the new Confederate flags was draped over the coffin—the one which was to have flown from the Capitol flagstaff—and the line of march moved to the Executive Mansion, where Governor Letcher met the widow. For two miles the streets were thronged with people, all, evidently, having left their work for the day. Minute-guns boomed over the wailing of army bands.

  During the night the body was embalmed. Two men made a plaster death mask of the face: the sculptor, Frederick Volck, and his assistant, Pietro Zamboggi. A few people came later. One was General Garnett, who came to peer at the shadowed features. Tears welled in his eyes, and two young men of Jackson’s staff observed him, a little incredulous. Garnett approached, taking Douglas and Pendleton by the arms and walking to a window, staring out into the dark city. “You know the trouble between Jackson and me,” he said. “I can never forget it. But I tell you no one can lament his going more than I do. I believe he did me a great injustice, but I know he acted from pure motives. He is dead. Who is there to fill his place? Who?”

  The next day the body went on display in the reception room of the Executive Mansion, where many came to peer through the glass pane at the famous General, whose face wore a grave, firm expression, and was very much as in life, except that the features were a bit smaller. President Davis and the Cabinet came, and the pallbearers—all of whom were generals except for Commodore French Forrest—Longstreet, Ewell, Winder, Garnett, Kemper, Corse. Garnett had come only at the insistence of Douglas and Pendleton, and at last had come gratefully.

  The procession went down Governor Street into Main, and up Main to Second, thence from Grace down into Capitol Square, and into the Hall of the House of Representatives.

  The troops marched with reversed arms. First there was a brass band, the Nineteenth Virginia Infantry, the Fifty-sixth Virginia; General Pickett and his staff, mounted; six pieces of artillery; a squadron of cavalry; the hearse, drawn by four white horses and draped in black bunting; the pallbearers; one of Jackson’s horses, well groomed and shining, led by a servant; a few soldiers of the Stonewall Brigade who were in the city; General Elzey and his staff; Richmond officials; President Davis in a carriage; his Cabinet on foot; Governor Letcher and his aides and a number of Virginia and Richmond politicians.

  The casket went into the Hall of the House and was put on a white-draped altar before the Speaker’s bench, with the flag still over it. More than twenty thousand people streamed through the place in the afternoon and evening, most of them taking their first look at the General. Flowers were piled about the bier until some had to be taken away to make room for spectators, still coming in after dark. Officials made several attempts to close the doors and clear the hall, but they were shouted down.

  An old man once yelled from the rear, waving aloft an empty sleeve. “I give my arm for him, damn ye, and I’m agoing to see him, too!” Governor Letcher ordered the doors left open until all who wanted to come had filed by.

  Douglas was one of the last to see him. He looked into the room about midnight when the doors were closed and only the sentries were about. Roses literally buried the casket, and in slowly stirring candlelight a sentry stepped back and forth. The General’s face looked as if it were done in marble. Douglas took a few flowers and left the place.

  Mrs. Jackson had numerous visitors during the early evening, some of them ministers who had known her husband. There was much weeping, and a good deal of scripture was read. Mrs. Jackson was particularly comforted by the Reverend T. V. Moore, a stranger to her, who quoted from the fourteenth chapter of the Gospel according to John: “Let not thy heart be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also in me.”

  The crowds sought out Julia and would not leave the baby alone, longing, apparently, to touch her. Hetty finally retreated to the rear of the house, finding a haven beneath a window, where she held the child until the people had gone. “They won’t give my baby no rest,” she said.

  On Wednesday, the final journey began. Anna boarded the train, which went by way of Gordonsville to Lynchburg. At every stop, people gathered under the windows and remained until she went out to take the flowers and wreaths they handed up. More often than not, the crowd called for Julia. “The baby!” they would shout outside the dirty pane. “Stonewall Jackson’s baby!”

  Hetty handed Julia out the window to be kissed, dozens of times. At Lynchburg the party pushed through a crowd of people and boarded a canal boat with the casket. They moved on, more slowly now, to Lexington, behind straining mules on the towpath.

  Cadets of the Institute took over the casket in Lexington. It went to Jackson’s old lecture room, which, they told his widow, had not been used since he left. The casket remained through a day in the midst of the passing of hushed, staring people and the slow firing of guns on the campus.

  On Friday morning, Jackson’s old pastor, the Reverend White, preached a simple service at the Presbyterian Church. A hymn, “How Blest the Righteous When He Dies,” was followed by a reading from the fifteenth chapter of First Corinthians, then the sermon. The procession to the cemetery was brief.

  Anna saw that the cemetery looked down upon a spreading view of the valleys and blue hills, with the mountains beyond. But the country they had loved looked strange. As she left, sobbing afresh, she did not look back.

  Appendix

  Prologue, Book One

  The account of John Brown’s hanging is drawn from those of eyewitnesses, especially Major J. T. L. Preston and Jackson himself. Conversation is authenticated by numerous unquestioned sources. Though minor details of this and other Prologues of this book [which are not always chronological with the story] are drawn with a freer hand than is the case in the text itself, the effort has always been to render accuracy in both fact and spirit.

  Chapter 1

  Jackson’s clear expressions of fatalism, cited on page 13, were reported by an intimate of field service, Colonel John D. Imboden, and by Mrs. Jackson, who quoted a letter from her husband to a Presbyterian minister.

  Literature of the Valley campaign is almost endless. Colonel William Allan, who was with Jackson throughout, left a factual record; a reliable synthesis is in D. S. Freeman’s Lee’s Lieutenants. Details of this account come from General Richard Taylor, who left valuable and charming memoirs; Colonel T. T. Munford of the cavalry and Colonel James A. Walker of the infantry, and numerous soldiers of lesser rank.

  Some highly regarded works on Jackson must be used warily. See Lee’s Lieutenants, Volume 2, pages 330, 332, 344, 362, for examples of Dr. Freeman’s comments on serious errors by Colonel G. F. R. Henderson, a Jackson biographer, in matters of official orders, time sequence, dates, geography. Colonel Henderson’s misconceptions of the opening of the Valley campaign unfortunately distort subsequent events.

  Chapter 2

  Front Royal, first of the sensational victories upon which Jackson’s military reputation rests, was in fact the opening skirmish of a lengthy running battle which may be understood only by comparison of the sources, which are frequently at variance. This simplified account, though seen largely through Confederate eyes, attempts justice to both adversaries—but the chief concern was to offer the layman a clear view of the dramatic opening of the campaign. The quoted testimony of General G. H. Gordon is evidence that Federal commanders miscalculated affairs in and near Front Royal from start to finish.

  Chapter 3

  The battle of Winchester may be accurately reconstructed without consulting official records, for the informal accounts of many Confederate participants offer richly detailed scenes of the field. Among the most valuable are those of Henry Kyd Douglas, Richard Taylor, William Allan, and the Reverend R. L. Dabney. They sha
re a quality common with many reminiscences of Jackson in that they bear more directly on his striking character than on direction of troops.

  There may be room for doubt that Jackson actually led his army in its first Rebel Yell (though Kyd Douglas reports it convincingly); there can be no doubt that he paused, while under dangerous fire, to chide General Taylor for use of profanity.

  Jackson’s military failures were almost universally neglected by early biographers, though they serve only to dramatize his victories. The fighting from Front Royal to Winchester illustrates his lack of control over artillery and cavalry at this stage of his career.

  Chapter 4

  Many phases of Jackson’s military personality, unique in American annals, seem to have been forced upon him by circumstance. His consuming love of secrecy, for example, grew from the failures of subordinates who were timorous, like Colonel Conner, or who failed to follow the cryptic orders of Jackson. Though he retreated from Winchester with the unerring skill of a tactical genius, Jackson learned more than one lesson during these marches.

  Chapters 5 and 6

  The intricate movements of the twin battles of Cross Keys and Port Republic reveal Jackson at the peak of his skill in improvization on the field. The picture offered by his first biographers, however, in which he appears as something of an omnipotent war god, is out of focus. For all the delicacy of Jackson’s timing at the end of his Valley campaign, much of the credit for the triumphant conclusion must go to General Ewell, who appeared at a fortunate instant, leading reinforcements. Early in the battle, by all existing evidence, Jackson seems to have attacked injudiciously.

  Chapter 7

  Jackson’s early life, though lost in legend and romanticized by his contemporaries, is preserved in spirit by Jackson himself in his remarkable and unstudied letters. His career from West Point forward may be traced with confidence, for his correspondence leaves little to the imagination. The modern reader will be struck by the similarities of Jackson’s expressions on sex, war and religion—a phase which escaped early biographers.

  The impossibility of achieving absolute accuracy in the myriad affairs of the Civil War is illustrated by the minor errors concerning Jackson by even so careful a historian as Dr. Freeman, whose work will long remain the most valuable guide to the military affairs of the Confederacy in the Virginia theater. Dr. Freeman, for example, misread his source (T. J. Arnold’s Life & Early Letters of General Thomas J. Jackson) and gave the impression that R. E. Lee recommended Jackson to Virginia Military Institute—when in fact his backing was given him some years later, when Jackson sought a post at the University of Virginia.

  Chapter 8

  Jackson’s ten years in Lexington seem the most important formative period of his life. In this account of that period, village legends of his peculiarities have been largely discounted, and chief reliance is placed on the memoirs of his widow, the testimony of his shrewd sister-in-law, Margaret Preston, and recollections of fellow officers and faculty members.

  Readers should take note of the spiritual climate of the middle nineteenth century in the United States. Religious sentiment was expressed in fulsome terms, in letters, diaries, and, evidently, in conversation. Jackson may thus appear as the incredible figure of a religious fanatic to modern eyes, though he seemed nothing of the sort to most people of his day.

  Jackson’s early persuasion as “A Union man” must be judged with similar caution. The evidence consulted for this account is found chiefly in letters from Jackson. Like many another prominent Confederate who had served with the United States Army, Jackson gave lip service to the principle of the Union. He betrayed the fragility of the tie, however, in: “I am strong for the Union at present, and if things become no worse I hope to continue so”—and in telling V.M.I. cadets that if sectional conflict became a reality, “draw your swords and throw away the scabbards.”

  At a distance of almost one hundred years it is impossible to judge the moralities involved when the choice of State or Nation fell upon military men of conscience. Most of Jackson’s Virginia contemporaries seem to have found the problem even less perplexing than he.

  Full details of the strange household routine of Jackson in Lexington may be found in the memoirs of his widow, chiefly in letters whose revelations seem to be utterly unconscious.

  Chapter 9

  The death scene of the Widow Henry at Bull Run follows the account of General Charles F. Walcott, published by the Military Historical Society of Massachusetts in 1883. It describes a visit to the field and a conversation with Mrs. Henry’s son. Frank B. Sarles, Jr., historian of the National Park Service at Manassas National Battlefield Park, regards this as the most reliable account, but adds, “A completely authentic account of Mrs. Henry’s death is rather difficult to find.”

  The bestowing of the nickname “Stonewall” upon Jackson has a small literature of its own. Readers with a thirst for details should consult Freeman’s Lee’s Lieutenants, Volume 1, page 733, for a display of evidence on the incident. Yet another version is found in Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 19.

  Chapter 10

  A legend flourishing in the Valley of Virginia to this day, and occasionally published, is that the German general, Erwin Rommel, toured Virginia in the 1930’s, in particular studying the military trail of Jackson—and that Old Jack’s surprise thrusts and flank attacks were reincarnated in the North African tank fighting of the Afrika Korps during World War II.

  Monroe F. Cockrell of Evanston, Illinois, investigated the persistent tale and concluded that it was wholly untrue. Rommel did not visit the United States. The man possibly mistaken for him was General Friederich von Boetticher, military attaché to the German Embassy, who often motored to the Virginia battlefields with his family.

  Prologue, Book Two

  Official records on the Richmond bread riots are scanty, and the attitude of the Confederate Government in suppressing news of it may be read in the appeals to the Richmond press and orders to the telegraph officials. The account of this significant protest rests largely on the entry of J. B. Jones in his A Rebel War Clerk’s Diary, and on brief accounts in Richmond newspapers. A slight change in chronology has been made here as an aid to the Jackson narrative.

  Chapter 11

  It is all but incomprehensible to modern soldiers that Jackson should have attempted a major transfer of his troops from Western Virginia to the Richmond fighting while keeping his destination secret from all but two or three officers; yet this is almost the exact truth.

  Perhaps more important in Jackson’s career is the increasing sternness of his nature through this and subsequent operations. General Taylor, who looked on his commander with a sophisticated eye, left important lines:

  “Observing him closely, I caught a glimpse of the man’s inner nature. It was but a glimpse. The curtain closed, and he was absorbed in prayer. Yet in that moment I saw an ambition as boundless as Cromwell’s, and as merciless.”

  Taylor spoke as an intimate. This was perhaps the first of the voluminous lore comparing Jackson to Cromwell—a superficial similarity at best. That Taylor did not overstate the dimensions of Jackson’s ambitions is revealed in the unmistakable language of Jackson’s letters.

  Chapters 12, 13 and 14

  The confusions of the swamp fighting of the Seven Days endure in the literature of the campaign. From it all, Jackson emerges as the most inscrutable of the strange figures on the smoky landscape. His failures of the week probably will never be fully illuminated, but a narrative of the battles, with attention focused on Jackson through testimony of eyewitnesses, speaks more eloquently than the massive commentaries, which often serve to bog the casual reader in infinite complexities.

  Among the lesser errors in the accepted history of this fighting is an example in the work of Dr. Freeman, who perhaps understood this conflict more fully than any other student. The error, of importance in relation to Jackson, was in recording that Jackson and Jefferson Davis, in a stiff, hostil
e confrontation during this week, had never before met. Jackson’s published correspondence reveals a letter to his wife shortly after the battle of Bull Run, describing a meeting with Davis, when the two discussed details of affairs in Western Virginia.

  Chapters 17 and 18

  Jackson’s famed mount, who bore the names Sorrel and Fancy, lived to an age of more than thirty, dying at the Old Soldiers’ Home in Richmond in 1886, after a number of years on the family farm of Mrs. Jackson in Lincoln County, North Carolina. His history is vague during the campaign against Pope and in the invasion of Maryland. At some point before Second Manassas, Sorrel was stolen—or perhaps strayed. Not long after Antietam, he was returned; there seems no reliable record of details.

  After Jackson’s wounding at Chancellorsville, in May, 1863, Sorrel ran into Federal lines, remained unrecognized for some days, and was returned to the Confederates. Governor Letcher of Virginia saw to it that he was sent to Mrs. Jackson. The horse’s stuffed skin and skeleton are in the museum of the Virginia Military Institute. The skeleton, owned by Pittsburgh’s Carnegie Museum for many years, was sent South “as a gesture of good will” in 1949.

  Chapter 18

  The Lost Order of Antietam, basis for one of the most melodramatic stories of the Civil War, is a matter of minor controversy. Private Mitchell, whose version of the discovery of Lee’s order in Frederick has long been accepted as accurate, is followed here. Mitchell published his account at an early date and packed it with greater and more convincing detail than did Sergeant John Bloss, who recalled that he found the order with no assistance from a private.

  A copy of this order in Jackson’s handwriting—the document which precipitated the incident and ended the Confederate invasion of 1862—is in the Department of Archives and History, Raleigh, North Carolina.