The statement made by General Smith respecting the desire of the cadets to serve under Major Jackson in the war shows how popular he was, and this estimate of his powers could have been produced only by their knowledge of his great worth.
“Old Jack” was the name given to the Major by the cadets, but it was never used derisively. Pranks were played in Major Jackson’s section room by the cadets, but more for their own amusement than for any other purpose. They well knew the consequences if caught, but were willing to run the risk for the sake of fun.
Cadet Abe Fulkerson once wore a collar made out of three fourths of a yard of linen, (for no other purpose than to produce a laugh) and it made even “Old Jack” laugh—that is, smile, which he would not have done if the size, shape, or color of collars had been fixed by the Institute regulations.
Cadet Davidson Penn, with an uncommonly solemn face and apparently in good faith, once asked Major Jackson, “Major, can a cannon be so bent as to make it shoot around a corner?” The Major showed not the slightest sign of impatience or of merriment, but after a moment of apparently sober thought, replied, “Mr. Penn, I reckon hardly.”
It has been said that Major Jackson never smiled or laughed. It has just been shown that he smiledonce, and there is no doubt but that if he could have been seen when he read the excuse mentioned below, not only would another smile have been seen, but a good, hearty laugh heard. At artillery drill one evening Major Jackson had given the command, “Limbers and caissons pass your pieces, trot, march!” Cadet Hambrick failed totrotat command and was reported. The next day the following excuse was handed in: Report, “Cadet Hambrick not trotting at artillery drill.” Excuse, “I am a natural pacer.” These three incidents are recounted by Dr. J. C. Hiden, of Richmond, Virginia.
Professor Jackson’s Class-room, Virginia Military Institute.
Professor Jackson’s Class-room, Virginia Military Institute.
Cadet Thos. B. Amiss, who was afterwards surgeon of one of Jackson’s Georgian regiments, tried a prank for the double purpose of evading a recitation and creating a laugh. He was squad-marcher of his section, and after calling the roll and making his report to the officer of the day, he turned the section over to the next man on the roll, took his place in ranks, and cautioned the new squad-marcher not to report him absent. While the squad-marcher was making his report to Major Jackson whose eyes seemed always riveted to his class-book when this was being done, Amiss noiselessly climbed to the top of a column that stood nearly in the center of the room. Having received the report, Major Jackson commenced to call the names of those whom he wished to recite at the board, commencing with Amiss; not hearing Amiss respond, he asked, “Mr. Amiss absent?” The squad-marcher replied, “No, sir.” The Major looked steadily along the line of faces, seemed perplexed and cast his eyes upwards, when he spied the delinquent at the top of the column. The Major, for a moment, gazed at the clinging figure and said, “You stay there,” and Amiss had to remain where he was until the recitation was over. He was reported, court-martialed, received the maximum number of demerits, and had a large number of extra tours of guard duty assigned him, during the walking of which in the lone hours of the night, he had ample time to repent of his folly.
When the class that graduated in 1860 commenced its recitations under Major Jackson, a sudden end was made to all kinds of merriment in his class-room. A member of the class, who is now a member of Congress from Virginia, concealed a small music-box under his coatee and carried it into the class-room. After the recitation had commenced he touched a spring and the room was filled with sweet, muffled strains of music. Major Jackson did not hear, or if he did, took no notice of it. The cadet, finding that his music was not duly appreciated, commenced to bark, in very low tones, like a puppy, and this meeting with the same fate as the music he became emboldened and barked louder. Major Jackson, without changing his countenance, turning his head, or raising his voice above an ordinary tone, said, “Mr. C., when you march the section in again, please leave that puppy outside.” The laugh was on the young cadet, and the result stated followed.
The following incident illustrates clearly how regardless Major Jackson was of public opinion or personal feeling when in conflict with duty. A young cadet was dismissed through a circumstance that occurred in Major Jackson’s class-room, and he became so enraged that he challenged the Major to fight a duel, and sent him word that if he would not fight he would kill him on sight. Major Jackson, actuated solely by conscientious motives, took the necessary precautions to prevent a conflict, and informed the young man, through his friends, that if he were attacked he would defend himself. The attack was not made, notwithstanding the fact that the Major passed back and forth as usual. This cadet, during the Civil War, learned to know Major Jackson better, was under his command, and before the close of the war commanded the “Stonewall Brigade,” which was rendered so famous by Jackson; and in later years, when asked his opinion of this great man, said that he was the only man ever born who had never been whipped.
Major Jackson seemed to enjoy the duty of drilling the artillery battery more than any other duty he had to perform, and it was natural that he should, for he had won fame as an artillery officer in the Mexican War.
Where Major Jackson trained artillerymen (Virginia Military Institute Parade-Grounds).
Where Major Jackson trained artillerymen (Virginia Military Institute Parade-Grounds).
Near the close of every session of the Institute, Major Jackson was required to drill the battery before the Board of Visitors; and in order to make it more interesting to the public, always present in large crowds, blank cartridges were fired, and the drill had really the semblance of a battery in actual battle. An impressive scene was witnessed at this drill in 1860. It commenced at 5 P. M. Major Jackson had put the battery through its various evolutions, and as the time approached for the firing to commence, seemed more and more interested in his work. His old professor of engineering at West Point, Dennis Mahan, and the commandant of cadets of that institution, Colonel Hardee, witnessed the drill. Ever since the commencement of the evolutions, a dark cloud had been gathering in the west and the rumbling of thunder could be heard. The firing commenced and all was excitement. Closer and closer came the cloud, and the artillery of heaven seemed replying to the discharges of the battery. Major Jackson had been slowly retreating before the imaginary foe, firing by half battery. The cloud came nearer and nearer, unheeded by Jackson. Suddenly his voice rang clear and sharp, “Fire advancing by half battery”—the foe were retreating—“right-half battery advance, commence firing!” New positions were rapidly taken, and the firing was at its height. Then the storm broke in all its fury. Up to that time the Major had seemed oblivious to all save the drill. The bursting storm brought him to himself and he dismissed the battery, which at once went to shelter. Major Jackson remained where he was, folded his arms and stood like a statue in the driving storm. An umbrella was sent him from a house close by with an invitation to come to cover. He replied, “No, thank you;” and there he stood until the storm was over, doubtless thinking of the hard-fought fields of Mexico and the havoc he had there wrought.
In November, 1851, Major Jackson connected himself with the Presbyterian church at Lexington, then in charge of the Rev. Dr. W. S. White. It now seemed his chief desire to do good. He was made a deacon and given a class of young men in the Sunday school. Some of them still live and remember how faithfully he taught them. He also gathered together the African slaves of the town every Sabbath evening for the purpose of teaching them the truths of the Bible. He soon had a school of eighty or a hundred pupils and twelve teachers. This school he kept up from 1855 to 1861, when he left Lexington to enter the army; and until his death it was always a great pleasure to him to hear of his black Sunday school.
Duty became now more than ever the rule of his life—duty to God and duty to man. So great was his regard for the Sabbath that he would not even read a letter, or mail one which he knew would be carried on that day.
The Rev. R. L. Dabney tells us that one Sabbath, when a dear friend, who knew that the Major had received a letter from his lady-love late on Saturday night, asked, as they were walking to church, “Major, surely you have read your letter?” “Certainly not,” said he. “What obstinacy!” exclaimed his friend. “Do you not think that your desire to know its contents will distract your mind from divine worship far more than if you had done with reading it?” “No,” answered he, quietly, “I shall make the most faithful effort I can to control my thoughts, and as I do this from a sense of duty, I shall expect the divine blessing upon it.”
When a single man, he made it a rule to accept, if possible, all invitations, saying that when a friend had taken the trouble to invite him it was his duty to attend.
Major Gittings, once a cadet, and a relative of Major Jackson, says: “Speaking from a social standpoint, no man ever had a more delicate regard for the feelings of others than he, and nothing would embarrass him more than anycontretempsthat might occur to cause pain or distress of mind to others. Hence, he was truly a polite man, and while his manner was often constrained, and even awkward, yet he would usually make a favorable impression, through his desire to please.”
When Major Jackson first came to Lexington he was in ill-health, and many things he did were looked upon as odd, which were really not so. He had been at a famous water-cure hospital in the North, and had been ordered to live on stale bread and buttermilk and to wear a wet shirt next to his body. He was also advised to go to bed at 9 o’clock. If that hour found him at a party or lecture, or any other place, in order to obey his physician, he would leave.
Major Jackson’s Home in Lexington.
Major Jackson’s Home in Lexington.
The dyspepsia with which he suffered often caused drowsiness, and he would sometimes go to sleep while talking to a friend or while sitting in his pew at church.
General Hill says of him: “I have seen his head bowed down to his very knees during a good part of the sermon. He always heard the text of our good pastor, the Rev. Dr. White, and the first part of the sermon, but after that all was lost.” Before leaving Lexington, he seemed to have gained complete control over his muscles, even while asleep, for no one, in the few years preceding his departure, ever saw “his head and his knees in contact,” but it was a common thing to see him sound asleep while sitting perfectly upright.
Before marriage, Major Jackson had his room in barracks, but took his meals at a hotel in Lexington, and it has been said by some that his eccentricities caused much comment; more than that, he was laughed at and insulted by rude, coarse persons. This could hardly have been true, for an insult offered to “Old Jack” would certainly have been found out in some way, and if not resented personally, it would have been by the cadets to a man. One who lived in Lexington during four years of Major Jackson’s residence there, and more than a quarter of a century after the war, never heard of these insults, and, surely, had they ever been given they would have been talked of, for Jackson’s name was on every tongue, and the incidents of his life, from boyhood to death, were almost a constant subject of conversation.
Though Major Jackson was very modest, no man ever relied more fully upon himself. Mentioning one day to a friend that he was going to begin the study of Latin, he received the reply that one who had not studied the forms of that language in youth could never become master of it in later years. To this Jackson replied, “No; if I attempt it, I shall become master of the language.I can do what I will to do.”
This stern will-power came to the aid of his ambition many times. He found it difficult to speak in public, and in order to acquire the art, he joined a literary club called the “Franklin Society.” He was always at the meetings, and spoke in his turn; but, at first, his efforts were painful both to himself and to his hearers. His health was poor, his nerves were unstrung, and sometimes he was so confused that he would break down in the middle of a sentence for want of the right word. When this happened, he would quietly sit down, and when his turn in the debate came again would rise and make another attempt. Thus, before the close of the debate, he would succeed in telling what was in his mind. By thus trying time after time, he became a good speaker.
Soon after joining the Presbyterian church, good Dr. White, his pastor, called upon him to pray in public. He prayed in such a halting way that Dr. White told him that he would never again ask him to perform so hard a task. Major Jackson replied that it was a cross to him to pray in public, but that he had made up his mind to bear it, and did not wish to be excused. So he kept on trying, and soon became a leader in prayer.
General Hill, speaking of this incident, says: “I think his conduct in this case was due to his determination to conquer every weakness of his nature. He once told me that when he was a small boy, being sick, a mustard plaster was placed upon his chest, and his guardian mounted him upon a horse to go to a neighbor’s house, so that his mind might be diverted and the plaster kept on. He said that the pain was so dreadful that he fainted soon after getting off his horse. I asked him if he had kept it on in order to obey his guardian. He answered, ‘No, it was owing to a feeling that I have had from childhood not to yield to trials and difficulties.’”
The same close friend also writes: “Dr. Dabney thinks that he was timid, and that nothing but his iron will made him brave. I think this is a mistake. The muscles of his face would twitch when a battle was about to open, and his hand would tremble so that he could hardly write. His men would see the working of his face and would say, ‘Old Jack is making faces at the Yankees.’ But all this only showed weak nerves. I think he loved danger for its own sake.”
Like St. Paul, “he kept his body under,” and would not let any appetite control him or any weakness overcome him. He used neither coffee, tobacco, nor spirits, and he would go all winter without cloak or overcoat in the mountains of Virginia, giving as a reason that he “did not wish to give way to cold.”
For a like reason, he never drank spirits of any kind. It is told of him that once during the Civil War, when he was too near the outposts of the foe to have fire, and being greatly chilled, he was advised by his surgeon to take a drink of brandy. He at length agreed to take some, but made such a wry face in swallowing it that some one asked him if it choked him. “No,” he replied, “I like it. That is the reason I never use it.” Another time, being asked to take a drink of brandy, he said, “No, I thank you; I am more afraid of it than all the Federal bullets.”
The immortal Jackson afraid of strong drink! What a lesson to people who have not the courage to say “No,” when tempted to do wrong!
In the midst of this busy life as professor, Major Jackson was married, on August 4th, 1853, to Miss Eleanor Junkin, the daughter of the president of Washington College, Lexington, Virginia. This lovely lady lived only fourteen months after her marriage. Major Jackson’s grief at her death was so great as to alarm his friends. His health, never good, suffered seriously, and his friends induced him in the summer of 1856 to take a trip to Europe, hoping that “the spell might be broken which bound him to sadness.”
His European trip benefited him very materially in health and spirits, and on his return he, with great zeal, resumed his labors in his classes at both the Military Institute and the Sunday School.
He had started on his return trip in ample time to reach the Institute at its opening, September 1st, which he had promised to do; but storms had prevented this and he was behind time.
A lady friend, knowing what a slave he was to his word, asked him if he had not been miserable at the delay. The answer was characteristic of the man. He had done his part, Providence had intervened, and he had not worried in the least. No man ever trusted Providence more implicitly than Jackson, and when he went to God in prayer he knew that his feet would be guided in the right way.
Dr. Dabney tells us that one day, when a friend said that he could not understand how one could “pray without ceasing,” Jackson replied that he had, for some time, been in the habit of praying all through the day. “When we take our meals,” said he, “there is grace, and when I take a draught of water, I always pause to lift up my heart to God in thanks for the ‘water of life’; and when I go to my class-room and await the coming of the cadets, that is my time to pray for them. And so with every other act of the day.” Thus we see that Jackson was truly a “praying man.”
His pastor, Rev. Dr. White, once said that Major Jackson was the happiest man that he had ever known. This happiness came from his faith in the saving care of God.
We are told that a friend once said to him, “Suppose you should lose your eyesight and then, too, be very ill, and have to depend on those bound to you by no tie, would not this be too much for your faith? Do you think you could be happy then?” He thought a moment and then said, “If it were the will of God to place me on a sick bed, He would enable me to lie there in peace a hundred years.”
Such was the faith of this great man! As he grew older his spirit became more saintly until, when called upon to go up higher to meet his Lord, his end seemed more like a passing over than a death.
Major Jackson was married again, on July 15th, 1857, to Mary Anna Morrison, the daughter of Dr. R. H. Morrison, a Presbyterian minister, of North Carolina. This lady is now living, and has quite lately written a life of her husband, in which she gives beautiful glimpses of their home life in Lexington, and also extracts from his letters written to her during the Civil War, of which I must so soon tell you.
Shortly after his second marriage, Major Jackson bought a house and a few acres of land, and soon all of his spare time was spent in working in his garden and fields.
We are told that his little farm of rocky hill-land was soon well fenced and tilled, and that he used to say that the bread grown there by the labor of himself and slaves tasted sweeter than that which was bought.
Mrs. T. J. Jackson in 1899.
Mrs. T. J. Jackson in 1899.
He liked to have his friends visit him, and nowhere else was he so easy and happy as with his guests at his own table.
In his home, military sternness left his brow and the law of love took its place.
This story is told of him, which shows how gentle and tender a soldier may be. “Once a friend, who was taking his little four-year-old girl on a journey without her mother, called on the way to spend the night with Major Jackson. At bed-time, when Mrs. Jackson wished to take the child to her room for the night, the father replied that his little one would give less trouble if he kept her with him. In the still watches of the night, he heard a soft step, and felt a hand laid upon his bed. It was Major Jackson, who, fearing that the little girl would toss off the covering, had come to see that all was safe.”
This good and peaceful life at Lexington was short. The black cloud of war was hovering over our land and ere long the storm burst in great fury, sweeping Major Jackson away from his quiet life, his professorial duties, and his loved wife and friends, into the midst of carnage and death, and to deeds that made his fame world-wide and immortal.
Major Jackson had but one more duty to perform as a professor and officer of the Virginia Military Institute. He had been left in charge of the corps of cadets when the superintendent had been called to Richmond. Early on the morning of Sunday, April 21st, 1861, an order was received by Major Jackson from Governor John Letcher, directing him to leave with his command for Richmond at 12:30 P. M. that day. Major Jackson’s arrangements were promptly made, and he sent a request to his pastor, good Dr. White, to come to the Institute and hold religious services for the young men prior to their departure. These services were held in front of the barracks. The battalion was drawn up in line of battle, Major Jackson at the head and venerable Dr. White in the front and center. All, with bowed heads, were devoutly listening to the invocations speeding heavenward. The clock in the Institute tower gave the signal for departure, and, without a moment’s pause, Jackson took up the line of march and left his beloved pastor praying.
The key-note of his great success as a soldier was prompt obedience to orders and requiring the same of others.
Before going on with the life of our hero, I must tell you, in a few plain and truthful words, the causes of the Civil War which in 1861 broke out between the States.
You remember that, after the Revolutionary War, the thirteen colonies agreed to form a Union, and adopted a set of laws called the Constitution of the United States.
From the very first, however, the States did not agree; in fact, laws which suited one section did not suit the other, so that there was always some cause for a quarrel.
At last, the question of slavery seemed to give the most trouble. You have been told that African slaves were first brought to Virginia in 1619 by the Dutch, and that afterwards English and Northern traders brought others, until all of the colonies held slaves.
The cold climate of the North did not suit the negroes, who had been used to the hot sun of Africa. So, by degrees, they were sold to Southern planters.
Many influential men North and South wished to see the slaves freed. But, as the slaves increased in the South, Southern men saw that a rapid abolition of slavery would be disastrous to both whites and blacks, because the negroes were not ready for it. As slavery decreased in the North, many Northern people did not realize this. Besides, the North did not wish slave labor to compete with the free labor of the North.
The North insisted that slaves should not be brought into the new States as they came into the Union. The South demanded that a slave-holder should be free to carry his slaves from one State into another.
Many Southern people also believed that the negroes were the happiest and best cared for working people in the world, and that the North was trespassing upon their just rights.
So the quarrel went on until October, 1859, when an event happened in Virginia which greatly increased the hatred of both parties. A man named John Brown laid a plot for freeing the negroes, first in Virginia and then in the whole South.
For two years, he sent men through the South secretly to stir up the negroes and incite them to kill the whites. He bought long iron pikes for the negroes to fight with, as they did not know how to use fire-arms.
When he thought that all was ready, he entered Harper’s Ferry by night, with only eighteen men, and seized the arsenal there, sending out armed men into the country to capture the principal slave-owners and to call upon the slaves to join him. This was done secretly during the night, and the next morning every white man who left his home was seized, and imprisoned in an engine-house near the arsenal. Only a few negroes came in, and they were too much scared to aid in the deadly and dastardly work.
As soon as the news of this raid spread over the country, angry men came into town from all sides, and before night John Brown and his men were shut up in the engine-house.
Harper’s Ferry, Virginia.
Harper’s Ferry, Virginia.
Soon a band of marines, under the command of Colonel R. E. Lee, was sent out from Washington by the Government, and as John Brown would not surrender, the soldiers at once stormed the engine-house. Ten of John Brown’s men were killed by the soldiers, and all the rest, including Brown himself, were wounded. Six of the storming party were killed and nine wounded. John Brown and seven of his men were brought to trial at Charles Town, Virginia, and being found guilty of treason, were hanged.
The cadets of the Virginia Military Institute were ordered to Charles Town to protect the officers of the law. Major Jackson commanded a section of light artillery accompanying the battalion, and was present at the death of Brown. He afterwards gave his friends a graphic account of this dreadful scene.
This event cast great gloom over the country. Many persons at the North thought that John Brown had died a martyr to the cause of slavery, while the people at the South saw that they could no longer enjoy in peace and safety the rights granted to them by the Constitution.
Major Jackson was truly Southern in feeling. He believed in the “Rights of States” and also that the South ought to take her stand and resent all efforts to coerce and crush her. He, however, dreaded war and thought it the duty of Christians throughout the land to pray for peace.
A month before South Carolina went out of the Union, Major Jackson called upon his pastor, Dr. White, and said: “It is painful to know how carelessly they speak of war. If the Government insists upon the measures now threatened, there must be war. They seem not to know what its horrors are. Let us have meetings to pray for peace.” Dr. White agreed to his request, and the burden of Major Jackson’s prayer was that God would preserve the land from war.
After the election of Mr. Lincoln, in November, 1860, to be President of the United States, the Southern States saw no hope of getting their rights and resolved to secede, or withdraw from the Union of the States.
South Carolina took the lead and seceded on the 20th of December, 1860. She was quickly followed by Mississippi, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, and Texas.
On the 9th of January, 1861, these States united and at Montgomery, in Alabama, formed a government called “The Confederate States of America,” with Jefferson Davis as President.
Virginia was slow to withdraw from the Union formed by the States; but, when President Lincoln called for seventy-five thousand soldiers to invade the Southern States, she delayed no longer. On April 17th, 1861, she seceded and began to prepare for war.
“In one week,” says Dabney, “the whole State was changed into a camp.” The sons of Virginia rushed to arms, and soon the city of Richmond was filled with men drilling and preparing to fight.
At daybreak on Sunday morning, April 21st, 1861, an order came to Lexington from the Governor of the State (Governor Letcher) to march the cadets that day to Richmond. As the senior officers were already in Richmond, Major Jackson at once prepared to go forward with his corps.
View of the Business Portion of Richmond, Va., after the Evacuation Fire of 1865.
View of the Business Portion of Richmond, Va., after the Evacuation Fire of 1865.
At eleven o’clock A. M. he went to his home to say good-bye to his wife. They retired to their own room, where he read the 5th chapter of Second Corinthians, which begins with these beautiful words: “For we know, if our earthly house of this tabernacle be dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.”
He then knelt and prayed for themselves and for their dear country, imploring God that it might be His holy will to avert war and bloodshed. He then said good-bye to his wife and left his dear home, never more to return to it. After a few days, his wife went to live at the home of a friend—his house was closed.
Major Jackson and the cadets marched forward to Staunton, whence they went by train to Richmond, and at once went into camp on the Fair-Grounds.
From Richmond, Major Jackson wrote thus to his wife: “Colonel Lee, of the army, is here and has been made Major-General of the Virginia troops. I regard him a better officer than General Scott.”
After a few days, on April 21st, Major Jackson was made colonel of the Virginia forces and ordered to take command at Harper’s Ferry, a town on the Potomac river where the United States Government had had a great number of workshops and fire-arms. This important place had already been captured by Virginia troops, and it was necessary to hold it until the arms and machinery could be moved away.
Just here it may be well to give you a word-picture of our hero as he began a career which was to fill the world with his fame.
Colonel Thomas J. Jackson.
Colonel Thomas J. Jackson.
Portrait annotation.
This is a copy of a Portrait I have of my husband which I consider the best likeness extant Mrs. T. J. Jackson
This is a copy of a Portrait I have of my husband which I consider the best likeness extant Mrs. T. J. Jackson
Jackson was tall and very erect, with large hands and feet. His brow was fair and broad; his eyes were blue placid and clear when their owner was calm, but dark and flashing when he was aroused. His nose was Roman, his cheeks ruddy, his mouth firm, and his chin covered with a brown beard. His step was long and rapid, and if he was not a graceful rider, he was a fearless one. In battle, or as he rode along his columns, hat in hand, bowing right and left to his soldiers, whose shouts arose on high, no figure could be nobler than his. Few, even of his intimate friends, were conscious of his military genius, so he burst upon the world as a meteor darts across a star-lit sky.
On his way to Harper’s Ferry, he wrote thus to his dear wife:
“Winchester, April 29th, 1861.“I expect to leave here about two P. M. to-day for Harper’s Ferry. I am thankful to say that an ever-kind Providence, who causes ‘all things to work together for good to them that love Him,’ has given me the post which I prefer above all others. To His name be all the praise. * * * You must not expect to hear from me very often, as I shall have more work than I have ever had in the same time before; but don’t be troubled about me, as an ever-kind Heavenly Father will give me all needful aid.”
“Winchester, April 29th, 1861.
“I expect to leave here about two P. M. to-day for Harper’s Ferry. I am thankful to say that an ever-kind Providence, who causes ‘all things to work together for good to them that love Him,’ has given me the post which I prefer above all others. To His name be all the praise. * * * You must not expect to hear from me very often, as I shall have more work than I have ever had in the same time before; but don’t be troubled about me, as an ever-kind Heavenly Father will give me all needful aid.”
“This letter,” says a friend, “gives a true idea of his character. He feels within himself the genius and power which make him long to have a separate command; but he also feels the need of resting upon his Heavenly Father for aid and support.”
Colonel Jackson had been ordered by Major-General Lee to organize and drill the men who had gathered at Harper’s Ferry and to hold the place as long as possible against the foe.
He went to work with great zeal and, aided by Colonel Maury and Major Preston, soon had the men organized into companies and regiments. As Colonel Jackson was known to have been a brave soldier in the Mexican War, he was readily obeyed by the soldiers in his little army, which soon numbered forty-five hundred men.
But on the 2nd of May, Virginia joined the Southern Confederacy and handed over all of her soldiers to that government, which bound itself in return to defend Virginia and to pay her troops.
General Joseph E. Johnston was sent on the 23rd of May by the Confederate Government to take command at Harper’s Ferry and Colonel Jackson at once gave up his trust to General Johnston.
The Virginia regiments at that place—the Second, the Fourth, the Fifth, the Twenty-seventh, and a little after, the Thirty-third, with Pendleton’s battery of light field-guns—were now organized into a brigade, of which Jackson was made the commander. This was the brigade which afterwards became famous as the “Stonewall Brigade,” and which, we shall see, did much hard fighting, and was to the Southern army what the “Tenth Legion” was to the great Cæsar.
Gen. J. E. Johnston.
Gen. J. E. Johnston.
General Johnston soon found out that he could not hold Harper’s Ferry against the foe which was now coming up under General Patterson. He, therefore, burnt the great railroad bridge over the Potomac river at Harper’s Ferry and moved away all his guns and stores; then on Sunday, June 16th, he withdrew his little army to Bunker Hill, a place about twelve miles from the city of Winchester. There he offered battle to General Patterson, but the latter refused to fight and withdrew to the north bank of the Potomac.
On June 19th, Colonel Jackson was ordered to march northward and watch the foe, who was again crossing the river. He was also ordered to destroy the engines and cars of the Baltimore and Ohio railroad at Martinsburg.
This he did, though he writes of it in the following words: “It was a sad work; but I had my orders, and my duty was to obey.”
Until July 2nd, Colonel Jackson, with his brigade, remained a little north of Martinsburg, having in his front Colonel J. E. B. Stuart with a regiment of cavalry. On that day General Patterson advanced to meet Jackson, who went forward with only one regiment, the Fifth Virginia, a few companies of cavalry, and one light field piece. A sharp skirmish ensued. At last, the foe coming up in large numbers, Jackson fell back to the main body of his troops after having taken forty-five prisoners, and killed and wounded a large number of the enemy. Jackson’s loss was only two men killed and ten wounded.
In this battle, which is known as that of Haines’s Farm, Colonel Jackson was, no doubt, the only man in the infantry who had ever been under fire, but they all behaved with the greatest coolness and bravery.
Jackson, in this first battle, showed such boldness, and at the same time such care for the lives of his men, that he at once gained a hold upon their esteem.
General Patterson now held Martinsburg; while General Johnston, having come up with the whole army, offered him battle each day. But Patterson had other plans, and soon moved away.
While General Johnston was at Winchester watching his movements, Colonel Jackson received this note:
“Richmond, July 3rd, ’61.My Dear General:I have the pleasure of sending you a commission of Brigadier-General in the Provisional Army; and to feel that you merit it. May your advancement increase your usefulness to the State.Very truly,R. E. LEE.”
“Richmond, July 3rd, ’61.
My Dear General:
I have the pleasure of sending you a commission of Brigadier-General in the Provisional Army; and to feel that you merit it. May your advancement increase your usefulness to the State.
Very truly,R. E. LEE.”
General Jackson, for so we must now call him, was much pleased at this promotion, and wrote to his wife thus:
“Through the blessing of God, I have now all that I ought to wish in the line of promotion. May His blessing rest on you is my fervent prayer.”
“Through the blessing of God, I have now all that I ought to wish in the line of promotion. May His blessing rest on you is my fervent prayer.”
Around the campfire
General Robert E. Lee.
General Robert E. Lee.
During the spring of 1861, the States of North Carolina, Tennessee, and Arkansas, also left the Union and joined the new Confederacy, the capital of which was now Richmond, Virginia.
The great object of the North was to capture Richmond. For this they raised four large armies to invade Virginia. The first was to go by way of Fortress Monroe; the second, by way of Manassas; the third was to march up the Shenandoah Valley; and the fourth was to come from the northwest.
Turn to the map of Virginia on the opposite page and find the places which I have mentioned, and you will understand the plan at once.
MAP OF VIRGINIA ANDAdjacent States.
MAP OF VIRGINIA ANDAdjacent States.
Now, the Confederate army was much smaller than the Federal army, because the Southern States were thinly settled, while the North contained very many large cities and had the world from which to draw supplies of men as well as munitions of war.
General Beauregard.
General Beauregard.
The North also was rich, because it had the treasury of the United States, while the South was poor in both money and arms, and had the outside world closed against her.
So the Confederate leaders had to use great skill in meeting such large armies with so few men.
You remember that in the last chapter I told how General Johnston, at Winchester, with a small force was watching General Patterson. Now, just across the mountains, sixty miles southeast, at Manassas, Beauregard (bo-re-gard), another famous Southern general, was facing a large Northern army under General McDowell. This army was thirty-five thousand strong, while the Confederates had only twenty-eight thousand men. General McDowell’s army was composed of the best soldiers in the Northern States, and they had splendid fire-arms, artillery, uniforms, and tents—in fact, all that money could buy to make them do good service in the field.
On the other hand, the Confederates were poorly clad and had old muskets and cannon; many of the cavalry had only the shot-guns which they had used for hunting in their boyhood days.
The North fully expected that this fine army would crush the Confederates at one blow, and, when General McDowell was a little slow in marching forward to battle, began to cry, “On to Richmond.”
Large crowds of idlers, editors, reporters, members of Congress, government officials, and even ladies went from Washington to the rear of the Federal army in order to witness the defeat of the Confederates.
General Beauregard now sent word to General Johnston to leave Patterson and come across the mountains to his aid. General Johnston at once sent Colonel Stuart with his cavalry to face Patterson, and to try to keep him from finding out that Johnston had left Winchester and had gone to the help of Beauregard.
This order Stuart obeyed so well that Johnston was at Manassas, sixty miles away, before Patterson discovered the ruse.
General Johnston’s army set out from Winchester on the forenoon of Thursday, July 18th. The First Virginia Brigade, led by General Jackson, headed the line of march. As they passed through the streets of Winchester, the people asked, with sad faces, if they were going to hand them over to the foe. The soldiers, for reply, said that they knew not where, or for what purpose, they were marching southeast.