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man, and a somewhat commonplace lecturer. Stiff and rigid in his pew at church, striding awkwardly from his study to his lectureroom, ever serious, thoughtful, absent-minded in appearancesuch was the figure of the future Lieutenant-General, the estimate of whose faculties by the gay young students may be imagined from their nickname for him, Fool Tom Jackson. In April, 186 , Fool Tom Jackson became Colonel of Virginia volunteers, and went to Harper's Ferry, soon afterwards fighting General Patterson at Falling Water, thence descending to Manassas. Here the small force-2,611 muskets — of Brigadier-General Jackson saved the day. Without them the Federal column would have flanked and routed Beauregard. Bee, forced back, shattered and overwhelmed, galloped up to Jackson and groaned out, General, they are beating us back! Jackson's set face did not move. Sir, he said, we will give them the bayonet. Without those 2,611 muskets that morning, good-by to Beauregard! In the next year
John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War., Stuart on the outpost: a scene at camp Qui Vive (search)
a fight of pickets, and was brought back dead, wrapped in the brilliant oil-cloth which his sister took from her piano and had sent to him to sleep upon. But these recollections would not interest you as they interest me. They fade, and I come back to my immediate subject-a visit to General Jeb Stuart at his headquarters, near Fairfax Court-House, where, in this December of 1861, I saw the gay cavalier and his queer surroundings. Stuart was already famous from his raids against General Patterson in the Valley. He had harassed that commander so persistently-driving in his pickets, getting in rear of his camps, and cutting off his foraging parties — that Johnston said of him: He is worse than a yellow-jacket-they no sooner brush him off than he lights back again. Indefatigable in reconnoissance, sleepless in vigilance, possessed of a physical strength which defied fatigue and enabled him to pass whole days and nights in the saddle, Stuart became the evil genius of the invadi
, the French Guard of Louis, and the Old Guard of Napoleon. This is the Old Stonewall Brigade of Jackson. The Old Stonewall Brigade! What a host of thoughts, memories, and emotions, do those simple words incite! The very mention of the famous band is like the bugle note that sounds to arms! These veterans have fought and bled and conquered on so many battle-fields that memory grows weary almost of recalling their achievements. Gathering around Jackson in the old days of 186 , when Patterson confronted Johnston in the Valley of the Shenandoah-when Stuart was a simple Colonel, and Ashby only a Captain — they held in check an enemy twenty times their number, and were moulded by their great commander into that Spartan phalanx which no Federal bayonet could break. They were boys and old men; the heirs of ancient names, who had lived in luxury from childhood, and the humblest of the unlettered sons of toil; students and ploughmen, rosycheeked urchins and grizzled seniors, old and
ey, when General Johnston was opposed to General Patterson there, in the summer of 1861, just beforinished my meal when I was informed that General Patterson had sent for me. Fifteen minutes afterwawas my reply; and I shall ascertain from General Patterson whether it is by his order that an officsy gentleman I afterwards discovered was General Patterson's Adjutant-General. Ii. I waited fpite of the pickets. Headquarters of General Patterson, July 4, 1861. I had just placed thigh the lines, I said; it is addressed to General Patterson. Ah! said the officer. Yes, sir.fterwards my pulse leaped. The voice of General Patterson was heard calling his Adjutant-General; en heard there was a bet between you and General Patterson, he said. Is that the fact, Captain? a come, easy go, General. I got him from General Patterson--I believe Colonel Jackson told you how.tle at Manassas depended. I wonder if General Patterson contemplated such a thing, General, when[9 more...]