Robert Lewis Dabney, Life and Commands of Lieutenand- General Thomas J. Jackson

[582]

Chapter 18: Fredericksburg.

A respite now occurred in the storms of war, when it was permitted to contemplate General Jackson and his soldiers in a more peaceful and pleasing attitude. The army was withdrawn a few miles, to the banks of the Opequon, a tributary of the Potomac, which flows to the eastward of Winchester and Martinsburg, and empties into it a little above Harper's Ferry. Here they encamped for a number of weeks, in the bosom of the most charming regions of the lower Valley. The beauty of the season surpassed even the accustomed glories of the Virginian autumn; and amidst days of unclouded serenity, free alike from the ardors of summer, and the extremes of winter, the tired soldiers recruited their strength, reposing upon the rich meadows and pastures of the Opequon. Man and beast alike revelled in abundance; for the teeming productiveness of those Valley farms seemed to defy the exhaustion of war, and the sweet and luxuriant greensward made the war-horse forget the necessity of other provender. Here, a few days of repose restored the elastic spirits of the men; for the Southern soldier is quick to forget his toils, and resume his hopes. The bivouacs under the golden and crimson foliage of the trees, echoed with exuberant laugthter and mirth; and the heroes of a score of deadly fields, with the light hearts of pleased children, made a jest of every trifle. Their passionate attachment to “Old Stonewall” [583] was now at its height; and his appearance rarely failed to evoke a burst of enthusiasm. As the men heard the mighty cheer rolling toward them like a wave, from the distant camps, they sprung to their feet, saying, “There comes old Jack,” and prepared to join in swelling the chorus. His heart also was soothed and gladdened with the rest, and the society of the people of his beloved District. He was now in the Valley, for which he had fought first and longest, the region of his chosen home, the scenery in which he most delighted, and amidst that sturdy population whose loyalty so cheered his heart. Winchester, that gallant and hospitable town, was near by; and he could once more mingle there with the friends of the first year of the war, and see them emancipated from the hated yoke of the Federals.

But General Jackson's rest was never idleness. He was diligently improving the interval of quiet, in refitting his men with shoes and clothing, in recalling the stragglers to the ranks, and composing the disorders of organization, produced by the arduous service of the summer. His regiments were again rapidly filled up by the return of the foot-sore, the wounded, and the sick, and the addition of new recruits; and his corps was enlarged to the proportions of a gallant army. On the 11th of October, the Government conferred on him the rank of Lieutenant-General, next to the highest military grade in its service. The army of General Lee was now divided into two great corps, or wings, of which the one was permanently assigned to Jackson, and the other to Longstreet. Henceforth these two great soldiers became as the two hands of their Commander, and served him with a generous emulation and mutual respect, as honorable to them as their well proved heroism. The organization of General Jackson's corps, was now confirmed. It consisted of four divisions, the original division commanded by him in the [584] Valley campaign, now led by Brigadier-General Wm. B. Taliaferro; the division of Ewell, commanded by Brigadier-General Early, who was soon after rewarded for his eminent services by the rank of Major-General; the division of Major-General A. P. Hill; and that of Major-General D. H. Hill. To these were attached numerous batteries, arranged into battalions of artillery under the various division Generals, but all supervised by Colonel Crutchfield. A part of the spoils of Harper's Ferry was now assigned to the most meritorious of these batteries; and their equipment became more perfect than ever before. To the famous company of Poague, of the Stonewall Brigade, especially, were assigned four of the heavy rifled guns, upon the construction of which the Federals had exhausted all their resources of skill and wealth; and this battery continued to hold its hardly earned place as the elite body of the corps.

This pleasing leisure was also employed in a manner yet more congenial to the heart of Jackson, in extraordinary labors for the spiritual good of the men. Not only did the chaplains now redouble their diligence in preaching, and instructing the soldiers from tent to tent; but many eminent ministers availed themselves of the lull in the storm of war, and of the genial weather, to visit the camps, and preach the gospel as missionaries. These were received by General Jackson with affectionate hospitality; and while no military duty was neglected for a moment, to make way for their ministrations, his pious ingenuity found abundant openings for them. It was now that the series of labors, and the ingathering of precious souls began in the Confederate army, which have continued ever since so extraordinary a feature of its character. The most enlightened and apostolic clergymen of the country, forgetting for the time the distinctions of sect, joined in these meetings. Nightly, these novel and sacred scenes might be witnessed; after the drill and the labors of the day [585] were over. From the bosom of some moon-lit grove a hymn was heard, raised by a few voices, the signal for the service; and, at this sound, the multitudinous noises of the camps died away, while the men were seen gathering from every side, until the group from which the hymn had arisen was swelled into a great crowd. The man of God then arose, and began his service by the light of a solitary candle, or a fire of resinous pine-wood, elevated on a rude platform. While his face and the pages of the holy Word were illuminated thus, all else was in solemn shadow; and his eye could distinguish nothing of his audience, save the dusky outline of the multitude seated all around, in a wide circle, upon the dry leaves, or the greensward. But though his eye could not mark the impress of the truth, it was drank in by eager ears; and many was the bearded cheek, which had not been blanched amidst the horrors of Sharpsburg, which was now wet with silent tears. At some of these meetings General Jackson was a constant worshipper, seated modestly in an unnoticed corner amidst the common soldiers, but setting the example of the most devout attention. In his letters to his friends, he related the success of the Word among his men, with ascriptions of warm and adoring gratitude to God. One of these, addressed to Mrs. Jackson, must suffice as an instance:--

Such was the estimate of the worth of the minister's work, by one whose fame was then filling the civilized world. It may be added, once for all, that this religious reformation, which was destined to be spread so widely through the army by General Jackson's efforts, bore the fruits of a true work of God's grace. That there was more apparent bloom than fruit, as in every other ingathering which ever blessed the Church, from the Pentecostal down, is, of course, fully admitted. It is not to be supposed that there were no good people engaged in it, whose mistaken zeal led them to push it on by indiscreet means, and no converts whose temporary warmth was due rather to the gregarious sympathies of the camp, than to the truth and Spirit. But still, there was a glorious reformation in many souls to true holiness, diminishing permanently the wickedness of the camps, turning many finally away from their sins. It was the uniform testimony of even the ungodly, that the commands most largely blessed by this reform became the most efficient in the service of their country; with the best discipline, the fewest stragglers, and the steadiest behavior in battle. It was the general conclusion of the whole people, that the subsequent efficiency [587] of the corps was promoted as much by this work of divine grace as by the professional ability of General Jackson.

It was a little after the date of the letter just quoted, that one of those instances arose in which he disclosed to others his spiritual emotions. The night was damp and rainy, when a brother officer whom he greatly valued visited him on business. After this was despatched, Jackson seemed to have a leisure unwonted for him, and urged his friend to remain, and spend a short time in relaxation. Although the latter did not yet call himself a Christian, indeed, he was one for whose spiritual good the General was greatly concerned. The conversation was soon insensibly turned on the things of Redemption. His friend related how Dr. S.,--the eminent minister mentioned in the last letter,had been understood by him to declare, that the fear of wrath did not enter at all as an element of that godly sorrow for sin, which marks true repentance; but that it was prompted solely by love and gratitude. The General answered, that the doctrine intended by Dr. S. had probably been misapprehended by him. For his part, he supposed that, in the new-born believer, both fear and love actuated his repentance. But as his assurance became more clear of the Redeemer's mercy to his soul, his obedience became less servile, and more affectionate; until, in the most favored saints, perfect love cast out fear. He then declared that he had been, himself, for a long time, a stranger to fear of wrath; because he knew and was assured of the love of Christ to his soul; that he felt not the faintest dread that he should ever fall under the wrath of God, although a great sinner; because he knew that it was forever reconciled by the righteousness of Christ, and that love for God and Christ was now the practical spring of all his penitence. Speaking thus, Jackson arose from his seat, and, with an impressive union of humility and solemn elation, continued in substance thus: “Nothing earthly can mar [588] my happiness. I know that heaven is in store for me; and I should rejoice in the prospect of going there to-morrow. Understand me: I am not sick; I am not sad; God has greatly blessed me; and I have as much to love here as any man, and life is very bright to me. But, still, I am ready to leave it any day, without trepidation or regret, for that heaven which I know awaits me, through the mercy of my Heavenly Father. And I would not agree to the slightest diminution of one shade of my glory there” --[Here he paused, as though to consider what terrestrial measure he might best select to express the largeness of his joys]--“No: not for all the fame which I have acquired, or shall ever win in this world.” With these words he sunk into his chair, and his friend retired-awe-struck, as though he had seen the face of an angel. But he did not fail to notice the revelation made of Jackson's master-passion by nature, in the object he had chosen to express the value of his heavenly inheritance. It was fame! Not wealth, nor domestic joys, nor literature — but well-earned fame. Let the young aspirant consider also, how even this passion, which the world calls the most honorable of all, was chastened and crucified in him by a nobler longing.

It was manifestly about the same time, that the following letter was written to Mrs. Jackson. Mentioning several presents, he says:

On the 18th of October, General Jackson removed his headquarters from Bunker Hill to Martinsburg, to superintend the destruction of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, which was committed to his corps. The importance of this great thoroughfare between Washington and the West has been already described; and it was determined that the enemy should be as thoroughly deprived of its use as possible. General Jackson now applied a system of his own to dismantle it. Besides burning all bridges, and breaking up all culverts, he ripped the iron nails from the cross-ties, using the former as levers, collected the latter into heaps two or three feet high, and laying the bars of iron across the top, set fire to the whole. The heat of such log-heaps in full blaze rendered the iron red-hot, and the weight of the projecting ends warped and bent it into every imaginable shape. But as though this were not enough, the soldiers, seizing the great bars while heated in the middle, bent them around trees, [590] and amused their ingenuity in reducing them to every fantastic use. From the hamlet of Hedgesville, west of Martinsburg, to a point near Harper's Ferry, the track was thus utterly destroyed, for a distance of thirty miles; and after the work was done, Jackson rode deliberately over the whole, to assure himself of its completeness.

At the end of the month, the corps moved toward the Shenandoah river and the Blue Ridge, and encamped upon the road from Charlestown to Berryville. The purpose of this change was to watch McClellan, who had now begun to cross the Potomac below Harper's Ferry. The Government at Washington had indicated their discontent with the sluggish movements of this General in many ways, and had urged him to advance into Virginia, and assail the Confederates again, before they could recruit their strength. But he had contented himself with a few reconnoissances of cavalry, and had refused to move until his vast army received large accessions, and a new outfit of clothing and equipments. At length all his requisitions were met: and with a thoroughly furnished army of one hundred and forty thousand men, he began to cross the Potomac from Berlin into the county of Loudoun, on the 23rd of October. But so vast was the apparatus of this huge host, six days were consumed in transferring it to the south bank of the river. The plan which its leader seemed to propose to himself was to occupy the passes of the Blue Ridge between himself and General Lee, as he proceeded Southward, so as to protect himself from an attack in flank; and by advancing toward the interior of the State, to compel him to leave Maryland free from invasion, in order to place himself between the Federalists and Richmond. In its first results, this strategy was successful; the Confederate army was promptly recalled from the neighborhood of the Potomac. As soon as the direction of McClellan's advance was disclosed, a [591] part of General Longstreet's corps was thrown before him at Uppervillo, and the remainder speedily followed it, and took position in McClellan's front, on the east of Blue Ridge; while the corps of General Jackson was left to guard the Valley. McClellan, after his usual cautious fashion, advanced his outposts as far south as Warrenton, in Fauquier County, while his masses occupied the line of the Manassa's Gap road, and the country thereabouts. On the 5th of November one of his detachments, proceeding westward through Snicker's Gap, attempted to pass the Shenandoah at Castleman's Ferry, in the face of two brigades of A. P. Hill's division. They were chastised by him with a severe repulse, and the loss of two hundred men; and made no further attempts to penetrate the Valley.

General Lee, accompanying the corps of Longstreet and Stuart's cavalry, now took post at Culpepper Court House, and the two adversaries again confronted each other, with the Rappahannock, between them. McClellan was apparently pursuing the same line of operations which the unlucky Pope had found so difficult. If his purpose was to follow the Orange Railroad to Gordonsville, and thence turn eastward to Richmond, it was beset by the grave inconveniences, that in obliquely approaching the Rapid Ann by this line, he exposed his communications to a fatal side-thrust; and that, at Gordonsville, he must pass around an acute angle, which must present his flank most awkwardly to his adversary. If, forsaking the Orange Railroad, he marched directly southeast, the vast dimensions of his army, and the enormous consumption of supplies by it, would render it a difficult problem how it was to be provisioned without other transportation than wagon trains over the country roads of Virginia. If McClellan had expedients for overcoming these difficulties, they remained undisclosed; for about this time the political jealousies between him and his Government [592] became so irrepressible, that he was suddenly relieved of his command, and ordered to retire into private life. His successor was Major-General Burnside, who seems to have been commended to the authorities chiefly by the fact, that the impatient public could say nothing against him, because nothing was known of him.

While the Federalists were advancing into Fauquier, and General Lee was confronting them in Culpepper, it was a subject of anxious discussion between him and General Jackson, what disposition should be now made of his corps. The latter desired to remain with it in the Valley, or at least, to continue to threaten the enemy's right wing by the passes of the Blue Ridge. Reasoning from the axiom, that one ought never to do the thing which his adversary desires him to do, he concluded that the manifest wish of McClellan to draw the Confederates away from the Valley, by his threatened advance into Eastern Virginia, should not be gratified. He believed that if one wing of the army held fast to that country and the Blue Ridge, his advance would be effectually checked; or if it were not, his communications would speedily be exposed to a side blow as disastrous as that which he had dealt to Pope at Manassa's. Moreover, his love for the country, and his knowledge of the inestimable value of its teeming resources, made him reluctant to see it vacated to the enemy. True, the disposition of forces which he advocated seemed to give the enemy the power to place himself between the two parts of the Confederate army. But Jackson's knowledge of the sluggish movements of that unwieldy force, and of its lack of enterprise, with his own vigilance and celerity, removed all fear of being beaten in detail. The Commander-in-Chief acquiesced, for a time, in his suggestions. An expedition to assail the Federal right and rear was proposed; but the lack of shoes and clothing in Jackson's corps prevented its execution. And new [593] movements of Burnside, after a time, required the relinquishment of all the plans which have been detailed.

This General, after gathering the reins of authority into his hands, determined to direct his command to a new base, whence to attack the Confederate capital. The route by Fredericksburg, whence there ran a railroad of sixty miles' length, direct to Richmond, possessed at least the advantage that it had not yet been signalized by any Federal disaster. Burnside determined to adopt this line, making his base of supplies the landing of Acquia Creek, upon the Potomac, where the Fredericksburg Railroad terminated, thirteen miles north of that town. It was an important recommendation of this route to his jealous masters in Washington, that by pursuing it, he kept that city covered during his advance upon the rival metropolis, and composed the fears in the breast of the Government which had so retarded the operations of McClellan on the peninsula. In truth, the reasonings of the latter General in favor of the James river as the true line by which to take Richmond were just. But next to that line, the one selected by Burnside obviously offered the fewest difficulties. It gave him an unobstructed water-carriage for his supplies, more than one-third of the way. It was the most direct route between the two cities; and therefore he uncovered his own line of operations least, as he advanced. It gave him, from the Potomac to Richmond, a continuous line of railroad to transport the apparatus of his army. It was true, that this route brought him upon the Rappahannock where its current was enlarged by the accession of the Rapid Ann; but Burnside might have argued that military experience has proved a river is not usually an effectual obstacle to an attacking army, and that the vast resources of his Government would easily enable him to overcome it. The result, moreover, justified his action, so far as the river was concerned; for he did, in fact, experience little [594] difficulty in the actual passage of the stream. How much influence he may have allowed to the threatening attitude of General Jackson upon the right of his position in Fauquier, cannot be known; but his proposed change of base was manifestly the most ready way to elude that danger. About the middle of November, therefore, he began to transfer his army, by a side march, down the north bank of the Rappahannock, to the heights opposite Fredericksburg. He hoped to arrive there before his designs were known to General Lee, to occupy the town and the crossings of the river without resistance, and to commence the race for Richmond in advance of the Confederates.

But the vigilance of his adversary, and the customary heaviness of the movement of his plethoric army, disappointed his hopes. On the 18th of November, General Stuart, crossing the Rappahannock from Culpepper, made a thorough reconnoissance as far as Warrenton, and learned with certainty that the whole Federal army was moving upon Fredericksburg. When the Federal General Sumner reached Falmouth, on the north side of the Rappahannock, he found a force of Confederates guarding the passage across it; and before he could overpower them, the divisions of McLaws and Ransom appeared. The whole remainder of Longstreet's corps followed from Culpepper soon after, and took up a strong position on the southern bank.

As soon as this movement of Burnside was unmasked, General Lee suggested to General Jackson the propriety of his leaving the Valley of Virginia, to support Longstreet. He therefore complied at once, and beginning his march from Winchester, November 22nd, in eight days transferred his corps with an interval of two days rest, to the vicinity of Fredericksburg. His journey was through the great Valley to New Market, and thence by the Columbia Bridge, Fisher's Gap and Madison Court House, to Guinea's Station upon the railroad, a few miles south of [595] Longstreet's position; where the troops arrived the 1st of December. But on the 21st of November, Sumner had summoned the town to surrender, under a threat of cannonading it the next day. The weather was rainy and tempestuous, and only a few hours of darkness were allowed the inhabitants to remove from their homes. General Lee assured the city authorities that he would pledge himself not to use the place for military purposes; but that he could not permit the enemy to occupy it. Although no garrison was within its precincts at that time, to justify the outrage of a bombardment, yet the Federal Commander refused to retract his threat, and only extended to the people the poor privilege of a prolongation of the time for removal to forty-eight hours. Nearly the whole population of the city now deserted their homes, at the beginning of winter, and with an unexampled patriotism, accepted all the horrors of exile, rather than submit to the yoke of the enemies of their country. The bombardment was, however, deferred.

When General Jackson arrived near Fredericksburg, several Federal gunboats had appeared at the village of Port Royal, upon the Rappahannock, twenty miles below. As the positions upon the southern bank were there less strong, it was surmised that the enemy might design a landing or a crossing. General Jackson was therefore directed to send the division of D. H. Hill to guard that place. When he gave him this order he said to him: “I am opposed to fighting here. We will whip the enemy but gain no fruits of victory. I have advised the line of the North Anna, but have been overruled.” These words were prophetic. The objection which General Jackson stated had also been maturely weighed by the Commander-in-Chief; but it was counterpoised by other considerations, which he did not feel at liberty to disregard. To adopt the North Anna as his line of defence, would have been to surrender to the occupation of the [596] enemy, a breadth of thirty-five miles of territory. The Confedc erate Government was reluctant to submit to the political effect of such a retreat; and the waning resources of the Commonwealth warned them to relinquish no space to the enemy, which might yield important supplies for the sustenance of the army.

General D. H. Hill proceeded to Port Royal on the 3rd of December, constructed a slight entrenchment above that village during the night, and the next day, chose positions for his artillery. Carter's battery of Parrot guns was placed on a commanding hill west of the place, and Hardaway's, with one English Whitworth gun of great power and range, was posted three miles below. On the 5th these two officers opened upon the Federal gunboats with such effect as to compel them promptly to change their position. By retiring behind the village they shielded themselves from the fire of Carter, but were still exposed to that of Hardaway. They now proceeded to vent their spleen in a dastardly outrage, which, were it not overshadowed by so many others more enormous, would fix upon them the detestation of all men. Although the peaceful village was not occupied as a position by any Confederate battery or other force; the ships of war now opened a furious bombardment upon it, without a moment's notice. The little town was battered half into ruins; but although all the females, aged, sick, and children, were caught within it, in unsuspecting security, the superintending mercy of Providence delivered them all from death. The only casualties were the killing of a dog, and the wounding of a poor African slave. But while this dastardly attack was proceeding, Hardaway continued pertinaciously to pound them with his Whitworth shot, until they gave up the contest, and retired with loss down the river, running the gantlet of the guns of Major Pelham's horse artillery, which lined the bank. A few days after, they returned toward Port Royal with five additional ships; but [597] were again driven away by the artillery of Hill, reinforced by Colonel Brown from the reserves.

A few miles above Port Royal an insignificant stream, at a place known as the Hop Yard, enters the Rappahannock. The attention of General D. H. Hill was somehow called to it, as offering an eligible place for the passage of the enemy; and he resolved to examine it thoroughly. He found that the configuration of the country did, indeed, give special advantages to the force attempting to pass from the north side, and moreover, that there were marks not to be mistaken, of its occupation for that purpose by the enemy. When these facts were reported to General Jackson, he immediately appreciated their importance, and sent the division of Early to the place, which began diligently to fortify the southern bank. The reports of the Federal Generals subsequently disclosed the. importance of these precautions. Halleck had himself selected the Hop Yard as the place for crossing, and Burnside had planned a surprise there, which was relinquished when they perceived that the ground was pre-occupied.

Meantime the Federal Government was urging that unhappy commander to force the line of the Rappahannock before further obstacles were accumulated in his front; and he was excusing himself by complaining that his pontoon trains had not been forwarded to him from the upper Potomac. Twenty days were spent in these mutual criminations. Of the merits of the quarrel, it is enough to say, that the delay of the bridge trains probably evinced the incompetency both of himself and Halleck. But the interval was diligently improved by him in perfecting his communications at Acquia Creek, fortifying the heights north of the Rappahannock, and arming them with the most potent equipment of heavy guns ever marshalled in the field by any general. The lavish preparations of his government supplied him with an [598] apparatus, compared with which the gigantic artillery of Napoleon was puny. Besides innumerable field batteries of lighter guns, which were intended to march and fight with his divisions of infantry, one hundred and eighty heavy cannon, some of them throwing shot of a hundred pounds' weight, frowned upon the town and its approaches, from the opposing hills. The “grand army” was now arranged into three great corps, under Sumner, Hooker, and Franklin, which made an aggregate of one hundred and twenty-five thousand men, besides a corps of twenty-five thousand more, under the German Sigel, which performed the duties of a rear-guard.

Upon the 10th of December, Burnside at length received his pontoon trains and he determined at once to prepare for forcing his way in the front of the Confederate army, and beginning his onward march to Richmond. He was confronted, upon the heights before Fredericksburg, by the corps of Longstreet. At Port Royal was the division of D. H. Hill; between him and Longstreet, was the division of Early; and the remainder of Jackson's corps was held in reserve about Guinea's Station, ready to support either point. The cavalry division of Stuart guarded the course of the Rappahannock for many miles above and below; and prosecuted, with their usual audacity, their raids within the enemy's lines. The defensive force may be stated with substantial, although not with exact correctness, at sixtyfive thousand men of all arms. Of these, General Jackson's corps included about twenty-five thousand effective men.

The impressive drama which was now about to occur upon the plains of Fredericksburg, presents to the student of history one of the most brilliant examples of defensive warfare. To comprehend its true merits, he must acquire a distinct conception of the topography of the arena, upon which it was enacted. The general course of the Rappahannock, though sinuous, may be [599] [600] said to be, here, from west to east; and it divides the county of Stafford on the north, from that of Spottsylvania on the south. The town of Fredericksburg is in the latter; and the village of Falmouth, a mile above, is in the former. The tides flow to the foot of the town; so that below, the stream is deep, though narrow; while immediately above, it is shallow and fordable during dry seasons. The country along its banks here has, in a marked degree, those features which characterize the tidal streams of Eastern Virginia. There are three stages, or grades, proceeding from the water, of which the second is more elevated than the first, and the third than the second. The first of these levels, next the water's edge, is the modern alluvium, or low ground proper, rarely marshy, yet subject to the inundations of the great freshets, with a horizontal surface, and a deep, black soil. It is of very variable width, spreading in some places to the extent of a beautiful meadow, and in others, contracted to a narrow strip of land. The traveller moving directly from the river, after passing over this low belt, ascends a short, steep hill, thirty or forty feet high, and then finds himself upon a table land of greater extent, which is of an older alluvial deposit, but nearly horizontal likewise. It is this level, extending to the width of miles, in many places, which constitutes the great grain region of the Rappahannock. Its dry, kindly and fertile soil has long ago tempted the inhabitants to strip it of its forest; and the whole surface was divided into extensive fields, enclosed by wooden fences or hedge-rows, and dotted over with country mansions and the humbler homes of the servants. The streams making their way across the table land from the interior to the Rappahannock, as may easily be surmised, have excavated for themselves deep channels through its alluvial structure; along which they flow sluggishly upon the level of the first bottoms below. Finally, the river, like all other great streams, is inclined [601] to throw the main bulk of its flats wholly on the one side or the other, by running at, or near, the base of the highlands; and at Fredericksburg, nearly all the level lands are on the south side. It is on this second stage or table land, that the town of Fredericksburg is seated; and it stretches along the river.for more than a mile, with a breadth of a half mile backward.

If the traveller would proceed farther from this table land toward the interior, he next ascends the highlands proper, which rise in swelling hills of the altitude of fifty or a hundred feet, nowhere rocky or craggy, but sometimes bold; and pierced here and there by the vales through which the inland rivulets descend to the lower stages. From the top of this range of hills, the interior stretches away into a region of gentle hills and dales, of which the average altitude is far above the table lands. And as the soil of the highlands is thin and gravelly, the larger part of the bordering front of hills was left to the original forest, whence the fuel and timber for the vast farms of the table land were taken. It will now be easily understood how the town of Fredericksburg, with the narrow plain in which it is seated, is commanded both from the hills of Stafford, and from those of Spottsylvania, which are here separated by the distance of a mile. These heights are lofty, and perhaps of equal altitude near the town. Where the main country road going south, issues from the streets, it is overlooked near at hand by a noble hill, known, from the country seat upon its brow, as Marye's Hill. The highway, striking the base of this height, turns aside to the eastward, in order to avoid its acclivity, and thus skirts its base for a few hundred yards, until reaching the course of a sparkling rivulet called the Hazel, it again resumes its southern direction, and finds its way up the vale of that stream into the interior, by a gradual ascent. It will be perceived from this that the road has a tract of a few hundred yards, which runs [602] parallel with the edge of the town. This is bordered on the left, or town-ward side, by a massive stone fence, embanked with earth; and between it and the edge of the suburb, is a narrow and level field. After passing the Hazel, the highlands take a wide sweep to the southeastward (receding from the Rappahannock, until the ample table land acquires a breadth of nearly three miles); and continually declines in elevation and boldness, as it is followed in that direction. At the broadest place, the plain is watered by another rivulet, called Deep Run, whose springs, breaking from the base of the heights, collect into a stream, and make their way along a deep channel, to the Rappahannock, a half mile below the mouth of the Hazel, and a mile below the town. The rim of highland, after encircling the sources of Deep Run, again approaches the river somewhat, continually diminishing its altitude, until, at the distance of four and a half miles east of Fredericksburg, the height gently declines into a series of soft waves of land, which terminate at the valley of the Massaponax. This is a tributary of the Rappahannock, which taking its rise in the interior of Spottsylvania, flows northward with a current of greater pretensions than the Hazel and Deep Run, and enters the river five miles below Fredericksburg. It is itself bordered, for several miles upward, by an expansive valley of broad meadows and gentle slopes, which are, in fact, an extension of the greater table land of the Rappahannock. Immediately east of the Massaponax, the highlands approach the very margin of the river on both sides, and hug it closely for several miles.

A country road, known as the Port-Royal or River Road, issues from the town at its eastern corner, and proceeds down the middle of the great table land, at the distance of a mile from the river, and a mile and a half from the heights, until it crosses the Massaponax, and penetrates the eastern highlands. This [603] road runs, the larger part of its course, between two fences, each of which is set upon an earthen bank of a yard's height, thickly grown with cedars and other hedge-row trees. It therefore offered to the occupants the advantages of a double line of low, but very substantial field-works; for the embankments, consolidated by time, and interlaced with the roots of trees, offered a perfect defence against rifle balls, and no mean protection against heavier projectiles. This whole lane of four and a half miles' length, was commanded by a multitude of Federal guns of long range, upon the Stafford heights. The railroad to Richmond, also emerging from the eastern end of the town, passed through the plain upon an embankment a couple of feet high, parallel to the river road, and between it and the hills, until approaching the Massaponax, it turned southward with a wide and sweeping curve, seeking to make its way, by the valley of that stream, to the interior. It is just where the heights finally sink into the wide valley of that creek, that the railroad crosses an old country thoroughfare, known as the mine road; and here was seated a little way-side station, called Hamilton's Crossing. The plain of Fredericksburg, which was destined to be the great battlefield, may be roughly compared to the half of a vast ellipsis, divided by its longer axis, with the west end containing the town, contracted to a narrow apex, and the eastern expanded into an ample section of a circle.

The reader is requested to master this somewhat particular description, because it is necessary to the correct understanding of transactions much misunderstood. The zeal of the Federals, of all mortals most passionately thirsting for that reputation for military prowess to which they are so little entitled, has led them with one voice to excuse their disaster, after it occurred, by attributing it to the excellence of the Confederate position, and the natural difficulties of the crossing. Justice both to the muchabused [604] Burnside, and to the Confederate army, requires that the topography be correctly conceived. It will then be seen, that while the position of General Lee was good as a whole, and on his left strong, it gave him no advantage whatever upon his right (save a slight superiority of elevation for his batteries), which was not matched by at least equal advantages in the position of the enemy. The ground which Jackson so successfully held against the double numbers of Franklin and Hooker in the coming battle, was no stronger than that which he wrested from Shields at Port Republic, and not near so strong as that which he and Longstreet stormed at the Chickahominy, with inferior forces. When the battle of Fredericksburg was fought, General Jackson had not a yard of entrenchment in his front; indeed his corps only came upon their ground during the night, and the early morning preceding the struggle. The elaborate lines which the military tourist saw afterward, were all the work of subsequent weeks, provided by General Lee against the possibility of future attacks. On the left, the battle-line of Longstreet was strengthened, at several places, by light earthworks, or barricades of timber, and abattis; while the heavy field-guns upon Marye's Heights, and thence toward the west were protected by slight lunettes or épaulements. It should also be remembered, that the position of General Lee gave no effectual advantage toward the resistance of the passage of the river by Burnside, and his quiet establishment on the southern bank, in a situation perfectly tenable and secure. The configuration of the Stafford Heights and of the river flats and bluffs, the superiority of the Federal numbers, and the power of their countless batteries, made him master of those points. It was therefore with perfect truth that he claimed, in his despatches of the 12th of December, that the difficulties of the Rappahannock were surmounted, and that nothing remained between him and the march to Richmond [605] except the equal grapple with the army of Lee upon a fair and open battle-field. It was only after that grapple had occurred, and the heroism of the Confederate soldiery, with the masterly skill of their leaders, had made it a frightful disaster, that these facts were diligently obscured. The river bank in the possession of the Federalists did not, indeed, present that concave curve which the military authorities recommend as favorable to the success of the assailants seeking to pass a stream in the face of an enemy. But it showed, in every other respect, all the requisites which they ask for a successful crossing; and the peculiar form of the opposite flats made the absence of this curvature wholly unimportant to Burnside. These truths will manifest themselves without discussion, as the narrative proceeds.

Before the break of day, on the 11th of December, the signal guns of the Confederates gave note that Burnside was moving, and the whole army stood to its weapons. The guardianship of the river bank had been committed to Barksdale's Mississippi brigade, from McLaws's division. One regiment was at the mouth of Deep Run, and the remainder, assisted by the 8tl Florida, was in the town; two of the regiments being posted in the cellars of houses overlooking the water, and in trenches and other hiding-places, to resist the construction of bridges. At Deep Run there was no protection from the overpowering fire of the numerous batteries on the Stafford Heights, and of the large bodies of infantry which lined the opposing bank. After a struggle, protracted, beyond all expectation, to the middle of the day, this detachment was compelled to retire; and about one o'clock, P. M., the Federalists completed a pontoon bridge, and immediately began the passage of a heavy column of infantry and artillery. Upon the low and narrow bench of the first bottom, and beneath the steep bluff which separates it from the second level, they found a secure place to land and extend their [606] lines. Unless the Confederates could advance across the wide plain, to the very brink of that bluff, which was rendered impossible by the frowning batteries of the opposing heights, the enemy was as completely shielded from their fire as though behind the walls of a great castle. Having gained this lodgement, the Federalists busied themselves in laying down other bridges, and passing over additional troops. But at Fredericksburg they found sterner work. The riflemen of Barksdale, availing themselves of every covert, poured so deadly a fire upon the working parties and their guards, that they were again and again driven back with great slaughter, in their attempts to gain the southern bank. Nine times did the thronging multitudes encourage each other to return to the task. The floating bridge projected itself nine times from the northern shore, covered with a busy swarm of men bearing timbers; when the Mississippians, awaiting their approach within their deadly aim, opened upon them stinging volleys which strewed the bridge and the water with corpses. Until one o'clock, P. M., this contest continued, and no progress was made toward winning the southern bank. Burnside then opened upon the town every piece of artillery which could be brought to bear upon it. One hundred and eighty cannon began to belch their thunders upon the devoted city. To the spectators upon the opposing hill it seemed wrapped in a whirlwind of smoke and flame; while from the bosom of the gloom the crash of falling buildings, the explosion of shells, the hissing of the fires, and the yells of the combatants arose in frightful chorus, as from a pandemonium. Yet, amidst this terrific tempest, the little brigade of Barksdale clung to the bank with invincible tenacity; and it was only after three hours more that they stubbornly retired a couple of squares, before a heavy detachment of infantry landed from boats under the protection of the cannonade. But here they again resumed the contest, and, fighting [607] from street to street, held the enemy at bay until far into the night. When they were told that they had now accomplished all that was desired, and commanded to withdraw, they said that their position was tenable enough still, and entreated to be allowed to remain and fight the enemy. He had now completed two or three bridges, by which heavy columns of infantry were pouring into the town. It was no part of General Lee's plan to contest the occupation longer; for his position was chosen, not to prevent the crossing of the river, but the advance from it. He therefore withdrew the regiments of Barksdale, during the early. part of the night, to his lines about Marye's Hill. The desired time for preparing a reception for the enemy had been gained.

During all the next day, the landscape was obscured by a dense fog, beneath which as a mask the Federalists carried on their preparations for attack. Whenever this curtain was lifted up momentarily, the ravines leading from the Stafford Heights to the river bank, were seen black with the vast masses of Federal infantry pressing toward the bridges, and their lines were perceived upon the plain advanced as far as the river road. The Confederate artillerists now and then seized these glimpses, to direct a cannon shot where the throngs were thickest, never failing to elicit an angry reply from the opposing heights. But otherwise, the whole day passed without hostile collision. The two divisions of General Jackson near Guinea's Station, were brought forward to strengthen the right; and as it was now beyond a doubt that Fredericksburg was to be the place of the great collision, messengers were sent to Port Royal for the other divisions. The summons reached General D. H. Hill a little before sunset on the 12th. His troops were then eighteen miles from the post they were designed to occupy upon the battle-field; but such was the promptitude of their action, by dawn on the [608] next morning they were in their places, and ready to meet the enemy. The division of Early, which was somewhat nearer at hand, preceded them in their arrival upon the field.

The morning of Saturday, December 13th, now arose, like its predecessor, calm and foggy. The city and the extended plain were wrapped in the impenetrable mantle of mist, until ten o'clock A. M.; but on both sides, every sound which arose from the obscurity gave token of grim preparation. The line of General Lee was stretched for five and a half miles, from the heights overlooking Falmouth, along the edge of the highlands, to Hamilton's Crossing, near the Massaponax. Upon the crests of the hills were placed his numerous batteries; while Marye's Hill, as the post of honor, was assigned to the Louisiana battalion of Colonel Walton. The corps of Longstreet held the left, and that of Jackson the right. Next the river, upon the extreme left, was the division of Major-General Anderson, extending to the neighborhood of Marye's Hill. Then came that of McLaws in the front line, supported by that of Ransom, in reserve. To the brigade of General T. R. Cobb, of Georgia, from McLaws's division, was assigned the post of advanced guard, along the road and stone wall which has been described as skirting the base of that hill. Upon another, still more commanding height, in its rear, were planted other powerful batteries, designed to sweep the Federalists from its crest, should they succeed in gaining it. Next to McLaws came the division of Pickett, occupying the edge of the highlands opposite to the widest part of the plain; and next to him the division of Hood. On the right the country was less elevated; it offered every way fewer difficulties to the enemy; and it was flanked by the wide and smooth valley of the Massaponax,which was so favorable to the operations of his vast masses. Here, therefore, General Jackson strengthened himself with a triple line of battle, to compensate for the weakness [609] of his ground. His front line was formed of two regiments of the brigade of Field, from the division of A. P. Hill, with the brigades of Archer, Lane and Pender. These stretched in the order named, from Hamilton's Crossing to the right of Hood. But they did not form a continuous line; for the brigade of Lane in the centre was advanced two hundred yards to the front, to occupy a tongue of woodland which here projected itself far into the plain. This patch of forest was low and marshy; and behind it, the ridge sunk almost into the same level; so that no position for artillery could be obtained upon Jackson's centre. Behind the interval thus left between the brigades of Archer and Lane, was placed that of Gregg; and behind the space which separated the brigades of Lane and Pender, was that of Thomas. Thus the whole front was composed of the division of A. P. Hill. A second line was composed of the two divisions of Taliaferro and Early, the former behind Pender and Thomas, and the latter behind Gregg and Archer. The division of D. H. Hill was held as a reserve in the third line. All these troops were posted in the woods, which covered the base and the gentle acclivities of the hills, so that they were not disclosed to the view of the enemy. They formed a line of battle a mile and a half long. On General Jackson's right was Stuart with two brigades of cavalry, and his famous horse artillery, under the boy hero, Pelham, thrown forward toward the enemy's left flank in the plain. In front of Archer, near Hamilton's Crossing, the range of hills which, behind Pender, had sunk almost into the plain, rises again to the altitude of forty feet; with the open field extending to its summit. Here General Jackson placed fourteen picked guns from the artillery of A. P. Hill, under the command of Colonel Lindsay Walker. On the left of his line were posted thirty-three guns, from the batteries of Early and Taliaferro, twelve of them advanced into the plain beyond the [610] railroad track, and all on level ground; for the place offered no superior position for them. On the right, twelve more guns were also advanced to assist the movements of Stuart, and to cross their fire with those of Colonel Walker. And Captain Hardaway from the division of D. H. Hill, was sent with his long Whitworth rifle, to the Highlands east of the Massaponax; whence he enfiladed the Federal line of battle as it advanced from the river road.

Having ordered these dispositions, General Jackson now rode along his whole front, to assure himself of their completeness, accompanied by several general officers and a brilliant Staff. As he appeared this morning upon his favorite battle steed, clad in a new and elegant suit of uniform, the gift of his friend, Stuart, and the old drab fatigue cap, which had so long been to his followers as glorious a guide to victory as the white plume of Harry of Navarre, replaced by the hat of a LieutenantGen-eral, resplendent with gold braid, he was scarcely recognized by his veterans. They saw not in this gallant cavalier, so instinct in his gait with martial elation, the sunburned “old Stonewall,” to whom their eyes were accustomed upon the field of battle. As he passed along his lines, his suite was made the target of the Federal sharp-shooters. When he reached the tongue of woodland occupied by the brigade of Lane, he said: “The enemy will attack here;” a prediction which a few hours fully verified. Thence he proceeded to the station of the Commander-in-Chief, upon a commanding hill near the Hazel overlooking the whole plain, to receive his last suggestions. It was now past nine o'clock, and the sun, mounting up the eastern sky with almost a summer power, was rapidly exhaling the mist. As the white folds dissolved and rolled away, disclosing the whole plain to view, such a spectacle met the eyes of the Generals as the pomps of earth can seldom rival. Marshalled upon the vast [611] arena beneath them, stood the hundred and twenty-five thousand foes, with countless batteries of field guns blackening the ground. Long triple lines of infantry crossed the field from right to left, and hid their western extreme in the streets of the little city; while down the valleys descending from the Stafford heights to the bridges, were pouring, in vast avalanches of men, the huge reserves. For once, war unmasked its terrible proportions to the view, with a distinctness hitherto unknown in the forest-clad landscapes of America; and the plain of Fredericksburg presented a panorama that was dreadful in its grandeur. To the Confederate soldiers, the multitudinous hosts of their enemies appeared as though all the families of men had been assembled there, for the great assize of the Last Day; but confident in their leaders, they beheld their numbers with steady courage. Not a cheek was blanched, nor a heart appalled. Lee stood upon his chosen hill of observation, inspiring every spectator by his calm heroism, with his two great Lieutenants beside him, and reviewed every quarter of the field with his glass. It was then that Longstreet, to whose sturdy breast the approach of battle seemed to bring gaiety, said to Jackson: “General, do not all these multitudes of Federals frighten you?” He replied; “We shall see very soon, whether I shall not frighten them.” Such was the jest in which the stern joy of battle in their spirits found utterance, while other hearts stood still with awe. They then separated to seek their several posts, and as the last remnants of the mist rolled away, the battle began, with a general cannonade. Three hundred guns now burst forth from the opposing heights; hill answered to hill with their thunders, while the battle smoke rolling sullenly down their sides, again enveloped the plain in a more dreadful pall than the morning fogs; and through the gloom, the fiery projectiles flew shrieking across in stunning confusion. Under the cover of this tempest, [612] Burnside advanced his columns to the attack, at once, upon the right and upon the left.

In the plain before him General Jackson saw the wing of Franklin, supported by a part of the grand division of Hooker, drawn out in three vast lines of battle, which he estimated at fifty-five thousand men. They were supported by numerous batteries, which advanced with them upon the plain. But as they passed the line of the river road, Pelham dashed forward into the open fields with two chosen guns of his horse-artillery, and unlimbering upon their left flank, began to rake their massive line with a rapid and damaging fire. At this audacious diversion the Federalists paused, threw a division of infantry into crotchet at right angles to their main line, so as to confront Pelham, and directed upon him the whole fire of four batteries, besides the distant heavy guns upon the Stafford Heights. But for a whole hour the two guns maintained the unequal duel, shifting their position upon the plain as fast as the enemy obtained their range accurately, disturbing the aim of their cannoneers by an occasional shot of deadly accuracy, and still pouring a rapid fire into the infantry. It was not until Pelham was recalled by positive orders, that he would surrender his hazardous position; and yet he brought off his command without serious loss. Such was the prelude to the tragedy upon Jackson's side; and this splendid example, doubtless, did much to inspire the rest of the artillery with high determination.

The Federalists, having been relieved of this antagonist, now advanced in earnest, feeling the whole forest, which enveloped Jackson's position, with a shower of cannon-shots. He commanded his batteries to make no response. Apparently satisfied that the woods were not occupied by any heavy force, they now moved forward with confidence, but still covering their front with a storm of projectiles. When their lines of infantry had [613] approached within eight hundred yards of Jackson's position, they at last awoke the response. The guns of Colonel Walker, upon the front of Archer, were thrust forward, and opened furiously upon the Federal infantry, firing to their front and left, while Pelham, supported by the twelve guns of Jackson in front of his extreme right, again scourged them with a cross fire. The Federals paused, wavered, while visible gaps were made in their ranks by every discharge, and then broke and retreated to the river road. For two hours the struggle now degenerated into a desultory skirmish of sharpshooters. While this lull in the tempest continued, General Jackson rode toward his extreme right, and dismounting, advanced on foot far into the plain, followed by no escort save a single aid. This was Lieutenant James Power Smith, a young man of that class of which the Confederate army contained so many honorable members, who, though educated and well-connected, had served long and faithfully as a private in the Poague battery. Jackson having noted his devotion and intelligence, with his wonted sagacity, selected him from the ranks, and promoted him to be his aide-de-camp,--a favor which, as will appear in the sequel, was requited by young Smith with a fidelity which deserves to link his name in enduring bonds with the memory of his patron. The General, followed by this zealous attendant, now walked far out into the fields, to observe the dispositions of the enemy, when a sharp-shooter, suddenly arising out of the tall weeds, at two hundred yards' distance, levelled his rifle, and fired at him. The bullet hissed between the heads of the General and his aide, who were standing about two paces asunder. Thereupon he turned to him with a sunny smile upon his face, and said, “Mr Smith, had you not better go to the rear? they may shoot you!” The audacity of the sharp-shooter seemed to strike him as a pleasant jest; but, insensible to fear for himself, his caution only concerned itself [614] for those committed to his care. After he had deliberately satisfied his curiosity, he returned to his lines, to await another attack, which he knew was at hand.

Having remained passive until past noon, the Federalists now moved their left again. Three lines of battle advanced to the charge, preceded by clouds of skirmishers, and strengthened by ten batteries of field-guns upon the flanks. Again they approached under a furious cannonade, to which the batteries of Jackson made no response until their infantry was within pointblank range, when they replied with equal violence. But the Federal lines now advanced with determination, and, as General Jackson foresaw, directed their attack to the projecting point of woods occupied by Lane's brigade. They hoped to find here a lodgement, and a protection from the Confederate artillery; for, when they came to close quarters, the oblique fire of the batteries on the right and left was necessarily suspended, to avoid overwhelming friend with foe, and the place occupied by Lane offered no position for cannon. Yet his sturdy infantry stood their ground for a time against triple odds, until the thronging multitudes of enemies insinuated themselves into the gap between his right and the left of Archer, deployed rapidly in the woods, and attacked his flank and rear. Some of his men wheeled, and made front against the new advance of the Federalists upon their side; a part of his line was broken and overwhelmed in the tangled woods, and the remainder retired upon its supports, fighting stubbornly; while the twelve guns which had been advanced upon his left, across the railroad track, were hurriedly withdrawn to avoid capture, suffering not a little from the Federal sharp-shooters. The left of Archer's brigade met a like fate with Lane's. Finding themselves taken in reverse, they broke and fled before overpowering numbers; thus widening the great breach in the front line, through which the Federal columns [615] poured into the woods. But Archer still held fast to the right of his position with two or three regiments, with a stubborn tenacity which contributed much to save the day; and attempted, with another regiment, to form a new front against the enemy's flank.

But Jackson had provided many additional resources against this casualty. The triumphant irruption of the Federalists was first checked by the brigades of Thomas and Gregg, which covered the intervals of the front line. As the throng of enemies spread themselves from the breach in divergent columns, the one bearing most toward the Confederate right found itself suddenly confronted, at close quarters, by Gregg. His foremost regiment, mistaking them for friends, received a sudden volley, and was thrown into confusion. As their lion-hearted General, Gregg, rushed forward to reinstate his battle, he was shot down with a mortal wound. But Colonel Hamilton speedily rallied a part of his brigade, and made head against the enemy until other succors could arrive. Another torrent of Federalists, directing themselves along Lane's rear, and toward the Confederate left, was met by Thomas, and their efforts were partially contained. The battle had now passed within the range of the artillery, which suspended its fire; but the struggle raged in a confused manner within the woods, and the fragments of the line of Hill and of his enemies were mixed in inextricable confusion. It was at this critical moment that General Jackson ordered up his second line. But the Generals commanding it, anticipating his wishes with intelligent zeal, were about to rush into the wavering conflict, when they received his instructions. General Early, whose division covered all the right of A. P. Hill's broken line, threw the Georgia brigade of Lawton, commanded by Colonel Atkinson, directly forward; and then moved the brigade of Walker by its left flank, at a double-quick, until it covered the [616] yawning chasm upon Atkinson's left. The two now dashed for ward upon the confused masses of the enemy, with such a yell as only the Confederate soldiers know how to give. Walker connected his left with the right of Thomas, of Hill's division, who was still showing an unbroken front; and the three brigades swept the intruders in a moment from the woods, and pursued them, with heavy carnage, across the railroad track, and far into the fields beyond. Here, indeed, the enthusiasm of the Georgians led them too far; for, rushing several hundred yards in advance of the railroad, they exposed their right to a whole division of Federal infantry, which fired into their flank, aid forced them back to that embankment, capturing among their wounded the commanding Colonel and-his Adjutant.

But no sooner had General Early assisted in restoring the wavering fortunes of the centre, than he was entreated for succors for the fragment of the line of Archer, which was staggering under the unequal pressure. He therefore advanced the brigade of Trimble, under Colonel Hoke, supported by Hays, upon the extreme right, relieved Archer, and driving the enemy across the railroad here also, established his men along that line. As soon as the enemy's infantry was sufficiently disengaged from the woods on their retreat, the gallant Colonel Walker opened his guns upon them again, and before they reached the shelter of the river road, inflicted a severe punishment. While these events occurred on Jackson's right, the division of Taliaferro also advanced with the greatest enthusiasm, to support the front line upon his left. But so speedily was the irruption of the enemy repulsed, nothing remained for them to do, save that the 2nd Virginia regiment, of the Stonewall Brigade, assisted in driving out the Federalists who had threatened the right of Thomas.

The division of General Hood, also, upon General Jackson's [617] left, instructed by Longstreet to lend a generous aid to their neighbors, had assisted with two or three regiments, to repulse a threatening attack there. A large detachment of the enemy advancing up the channel of Deep Run, shielded from view, suddenly emerged in line of battle, and confronted the left of Pender's brigade, and the numerous batteries which he supported. One of his regiments, assisted by those of Hood, immediately attacked them, and drove them back with great spirit. Especially did the 57th and 54th North Carolina, two new regiments of conscripts, which had never been under fire before, cover themselves with glory. They pursued the broken enemy, the 57th in front, across the railroad, and for a mile into the plain, although scourged by a flank fire from the channel of the creek; and it was not until repeated messengers had been sent to repress their ardor, that they were recalled. The gallant Hood said, that he verily thought the mad fellows would go to the Rappahannock in spite of him and the enemy together. And as they returned, some were seen weeping with vexation, because they were dragged from the bleeding haunches of the foe, and exclaiming: “It is' because he has not confidence in Carolinians. If we had been some of his Texans, he would have let us go on” But the men of Pender displayed equal merit, in enduring an ordeal of a different nature. Their chief part was to sustain the numerous batteries with which General Jackson had guarded his left upon the open plain. Lying behind these guns, insulted by a cloud of skirmishers, and receiving a large part of the projectiles aimed at the artillery, they patiently held their ground, unrelieved by the solace of active resistance, until the day was won.

A new front line was now formed by the Confederates, composed of portions of the divisions of A. P. Hill and Early, with the Stonewall Brigade, under General Paxton, along the railroad [618] embankment in front of their former position. It began near Hamilton's Crossing on the extreme right, and extending along the wide curve with which that thoroughfare sweeps into the plain, confronted the enemy all the way to the position of General Hood. The division of D. H. Hill, whose services had not been needed to complete the enemy's repulse, was now advanced to the second line; while the shattered portions of A. P. Hill's division were drawn to the third. The Federalists did not seriously renew their attack upon General Jackson during the day; but kept a spiteful cannonade, under which he suffered some loss. In this battle, Franklin had almost equal advantages of ground, and double numbers. But such was the skill of Jackson and his assistants, and the superior prowess of the Confederate soldiery, he was beaten, and driven hopelessly back to his starting place, before more than half of his antagonists force had been displayed. He left about five hundred prisoners, besides many wounded men, and five thousand muskets in Jackson's grasp, as trophies of his victory.

While this battle was raging with General Jackson's corps, events of equal magnitude were occurring upon the left, in front of Fredericksburg, which are detailed with less fulness, only because the immediate subject of this narrative was unconnected with them. Here Burnside, with an almost insane policy, selected Marye's Hill as the point of pertinacious attack; a position which, in the hands of Confederate soldiers, was impregnable; and which, if captured, would have been found commanded in turn by other positions of greater strength. But, endeavoring to silence the batteries of Colonel Walton upon its crest, by the tremendous fire of his heavy guns upon the Stafford Heights, he hurled brigade after brigade of Sumner's wing against it, throughout the day, with no other result than the pitiable slaughter of his men. Six times his fresh reserves were [619] advanced to the attack. But Walton, disregarding the hurricane of shells from the opposing hills, reserved his fire for the dense lines of infantry; and as soon as they emerged from the town, and formed for the charge, shattered them with well directed, plunging volleys. The advanced line of Cobb, behind the stone fence at the base of the hill, supported by Ransom upon the face of the declivity, awaited the Federals whenever they advanced, with withering discharges of musketry. The narrow field before them was literally encumbered with corpses; the gallant Cobb, statesman and orator, as well as soldier, was borne from his post, mortally wounded, assigning it to Kershaw; but still the night closed upon the carnage, and the Confederates had not been dislodged from a single foot of the outworks of their position. The depressions of ground along the Hazel, in which the routed columns of the Federalists sought refuge from the scathing fires of Marye's Hill, were raked by the more distant batteries near General Lee's position upon the centre; and the frightened wretches found no refuge, save behind the dwellings of the town. There, also, they were only secure, because the Commander-in-Chief spared the city from bombardment, in mercy to a few hundred of the inhabitants, who, he knew, had clung to their homes throughout these horrors. In a word, the Confederates at length had here, a position which was really strong, and which they had adequate forces to defend. It was such a position as they had been accustomed to wrest from Federalists in previous battles. The consequence was, that the attempt to wrest it from them never approximated the first appearance of success, and resulted only in a frightful loss.

On the right, the afternoon was wearing away without event, save that the contest of artillery was still actively sustained between Stuart and Colonel Walker, supported by some of the guns of Colonel Brown, and the Federalists. General Jackson [620] desired them to attack him again in his position; but when he perceived that they had learned too much wisdom by their chastisement, he was desirous that the important juncture should not pass, without at least an attempt to turn their repulse into a defeat. He longed to try, whether by one grand advance, disregarding the fire from the Stafford Hills, their shattered masses might not be routed from their hold along the river road, forced back upon the deep river, mowed down at the narrow approaches to their bridges, and hurled into the water. He thirsted for at least one victory, where the blood of his faithful men, and his own cares and toils, should be rewarded by grand results, like those of an Austerlitz or a Waterloo. But he knew something of the double embankments of the river road, before him, and of the double numbers of the enemy's men and guns. He knew that while the Federal was no match in prowess for the Confederate soldier, yet he never permitted any advantage to fail him, which could be gained by adroit cunning or mechanical industry. He was well aware that it was no easy task for the inferior force to inflict an utter overthrow upon the superior, sustained by such resources, however the latter might be repelled, by a higher courage. As the sun declined toward the west, he was seen sitting upon his horse a long time, with his watch in his hand, considering the effect of the cannonade with which Stuart was still plying the enemy's left, and counting the minutes until the sun should touch the horizon. After anxious hesitation, his resolve was formed; he determined to make the essay, postponing it until the approach of night, in order that, if it were successful, the death grapple with the Federal infantry might be shielded from the fire of their protecting artillery by the darkness, and might be enhanced in its confusion and horrors; or, if it were unsuccessful, the same friendly veil might assist him in drawing off his forces without [621] serious disaster. He therefore issued orders, that every gun, of whatever calibre or range, which was not disabled, should be advanced to the front; that, at sunset, they should move across the plain together, and open upon the enemy; that all the infantry should follow, in lines of battle, and that as soon as the Federal front showed signs of wavering under the cannonade, the whole should charge with fixed bayonets, and sweep the invaders into the river. The attempt was hurriedly made to effect these dispositions; a number of fresh batteries were advanced and opened upon the enemy; and the first line, which the General had committed to the charge of Early, was just springing — to its work, when he recalled his orders. He perceived that the concert between his different batteries of artillery was too imperfect to promise him success; that his subordinates proceeded to the enterprise with doubtful determination; and that the enemy covered his whole front with so terrible a fire from his countless artillery, that it threatened too great a loss of patriot blood. He therefore, unwillingly relinquished the endeavor, and made his dispositions for the night, assigning the front to Early, and ordering all the troops to be relieved for a short time, by detachments, that they might replenish their ammunition for the morrow. With this exception the whole army lay upon their weapons during the night, in the positions they had held during the day.

The unfulfilled plan of General Jackson has not been related in order to impress the imagination of the reader with a picture which was, perhaps, impossible to be realized, of the horrors of Boteler's Ford, re-enacted on a grander scale, amidst the accessories of darkness and a stupendous confusion; of murderous lines of Confederate bayonets rushing through the gloom, revealed to the affrighted invaders by the angry glare of the cannon alone; of huddled masses of fugitives, mowed down by shot [622] and thrust of invisible hands, and engulphed in the black waters; while Jackson and his fierce subordinates urged on the carnival of death. The purpose is to prove, by a great and notable instance, that General Jackson's determination had none of that headstrong imprudence which has sometimes been imputed to him. He was capable of grand resolves; no commander ever engaged his adversary with more of “the unconquerable will, and purpose never to submit or yield” than he; but none was ever more careful of the blood of his men, or tempered his daring with greater wisdom.

Thus ended the great battle of Fredericksburg, in which the Federalists confessed a loss of twelve thousand men killed and wounded, nine thousand small arms, and about a thousand prisoners. In repelling the attacks of their vast army, General Lee had employed less than twenty-five thousand men, and had experienced a loss of four thousand two hundred. Of these nearly twenty-nine hundred were killed and wounded in the corps of General Jackson; and there were, in addition, five hundred and twenty-six officers and men captured, chiefly from the division of A. P. Hill. That division also bore the heavier part of the loss in killed and wounded: a price which the brave are accustomed to pay for the post of honor. The batteries which were long engaged suffered much in this action, and especially those of Colonel Lindsay Walker. Placed in a prominent position, from which there was no retreat, and made the target for a continual fire for many hours, they were often struck, and lost many men and horses.

After all the necessary dispositions had been made for the night, General Jackson retired to his tent to seek a few hours' repose. There his friend, Colonel Boteler, awaited him, to whom he offered a share of his pallet; but long after the other had lain down, he continued to write and send despatches. At [623] length, near midnight, he lay down beside him, without removing any of his clothing, and slept for two or three hours; when he again arose, lighted his candle, and resumed his writing. But, observing that the rays fell full in the face of his friend, whom he supposed to be still asleep, he immediately procured a book, which he so adjusted upon his table as to screen him from the light, that he might not disturb his slumbers. About four o'clock in the morning, he called to his faithful Jim for his horse; and, after a friendly altercation with him, concerning his desire to ride the same one which had borne him through the battle of the previous day, in which Jim came off victorious, he rode away with a single aide. He had mounted thus early in order to redeem an hour before the day dawned, to pay a visit to the dying soldier, General Maxey Gregg. This heroic man had fallen the day before, shot through the body in the irruption of the enemy through the line of A. P. Hill, and now lay in a neighboring dwelling, drawing near to his last hour; but still as calm as upon the field of battle, and as ready to render up his life a sacrifice for his country. General Jackson spent a few solemn moments by his couch, and bade adieu to him with tender sympathy. He then returned to the front, to meet the first dawn of day among his men, and to assure himself that they were prepared for the expected renewal of the assault.

General Lee, on his part, had spent the night in diligent preparations for such an event. The enemy had been so easily repulsed by a fraction of the Confederate army, and still possessed so enormous a superiority of numbers, that he could not believe Burnside would accept a final defeat on those terms. He therefore supposed that the attempt of Saturday was but the prelude to a more strenuous attack to be made on the Sabbath. He earnestly desired that the assault should be renewed; because the strength of his position assured him that it would only result [624] in the further destruction of the enemy. His troops were therefore all prepared with supplies of ammunition for another day of yet more tremendous battle; and the weaker points of his line were strengthened with works hastily thrown up during the night. The morning disclosed the Federalists still drawn up upon the plain, in full array, and showing a steady front; but the day wore away without any demonstration, save a continual skirmish of the sharp-shooters and artillery. In truth, Burnside purposed a renewal of the attack; but his three Lieutenants, who seem to have assumed a practical independence of his will, remonstrated so boldly, and gave such representations of the demoralization of their troops, that he was compelled to relinquish his design. The next subject for his consideration therefore was, in what way he might best extricate himself from his perilous position. This was a problem which was not easy of solution; for, to retreat across his narrow floating bridges, in the face of a watchful and victorious foe, was to invite destruction. He therefore spent the day strengthening his position, especially before the front of the town, with hastily-dug trenches, and. kept his outposts pressed close up to those of General Lee, as though preparing for further aggressive movements.

During the night of the 14th of December, General Jackson held his troops in the same lines, except that the division of D. H. Hill was placed in the front, and that of Early was relieved by retiring to a less exposed place. During Monday, the 15th, a flag of truce was sent, requesting a few hours' truce between the Confederate right wing and the Federal left, in order that'the latter might relieve their wounded, many of whom had now been lying upon the freezing ground two days and two nights. The note containing this request was signed by a General of subordinate rank. At Sharpsburg, some of the Confederate Generals had granted a temporary truce upon a similar [625] application, which had been afterwards disclaimed by McClellan. General Jackson therefore replied to this, that when authenticated by the General commanding the Federal army, the application would receive an answer. After a time, it was returned with the authority of Burnside, when the truce was promptly granted. In his front, grim-visaged war now smoothed its horrors for a few hours; and while the hospital attendants were busy in removing the dead and wounded, officers and men from the adverse ranks mingled together in familiar intercourse.

The second day after the battle was now ended. The Confederates were eager in their hopes that the enemy would attack again on the morrow, when an opportunity would be again found to avenge, upon the invaders of their homes, the barbarities which had marked the war. Such was She enthusiasm which reigned among them, the division of D. H. Hill, which should, in turn, have been relieved from the front on the 15th, sent a written request to General Jackson, to be allowed to remain there another night, in the hope that they might have the honor of receiving the enemy's first attack the next morning. Their request was granted; but with the morning came a grievous disappointment. The whole opposing army was gone, with all its appurtenances, and had removed its bridges, and resumed its post upon the Stafford heights. The weather had come to their assistance, int the shape of a storm of rain, accompanied with a tempestuous wind from the south, which, driving from the Confederates toward the enemy, had effectually stifled the sound of every note of preparation for the march. Under cover of this wind and the Egyptian darkness, they had been busy all night, withdrawing their army and artillery over a number of bridges, while the numerous sentries close to the Confederate front kept up a bold show to the last. After all the rest had retired, these out-posts also were called in, their officers passing from man to [626] man, and giving the order to fall back in a whisper. With such industry and adroitness was the retreat conducted, all the vast multitude, with its countless carriages, was withdrawn in one night, in the midst of intense darkness, and without the aid of even a lamp; for they feared to draw on themselves the fire of the Confederate cannon. When some of the citizens, who had remained shut up in their houses during the whole struggle, came with candles to their doors, to learn the cause of the strange, dull buzz which filled the air, they were startled to find the streets packed with dense columns of men, whose faces were all turned toward the river, and who instantly greeted their appearance with the stern whisper, “Put out that light! Put out that light!” Some of the officers also sprung from the ranks, snatched the lights from their hands, extinguished them, and thrust the bearers back within doors. The movement was all accomplished before the Confederate pickets learned anything. When the dull and dreary dawn began to steal over the ground, they perceived that the sentries who had confronted them were either gone or were motionless; and upon approaching the latter, they found that they were dead corpses, stiff and stark, which the Federals had propped up against stones or posts, placing muskets in their hands!

On re-entering the afflicted city, the Confederates discovered also, that the enemy had employed the leisure of the two days after the battle, in sacking its dwellings from one end to the other. The only houses which escaped were those which, being occupied by wounded men, or by the quarters of general officers, were guarded by their sentries. Not only was every species of food and other portable property, which a soldier could desire, carried away, but the most ingenious and laborious destruction was wrought upon that which they did not need. Costly furniture and pianos were hewn to pieces with axes, the wardrobes [627] of ladies torn into shreds, mirrors precipitated upon the pavements, and the morocco-bound books of gentlemen's libraries carried in hampers to the river, and tumbled into the slime of the tides. But otherwise, the general aspect of the buildings gave singular proof of the difficulty of actually destroying a city by a bombardment. After all the tempest of projectiles by which it seemed the doomed city must be levelled with the ground, only a few houses were burned, and a few seriously broken down. In the others, the only signs of bombardment were a few small holes perforated in the walls and roofs by the shot, and a number of places, where glass and plastering had been broken by the explosions; while many buildings had almost miraculously escaped.

In this retreat, the Federalists had every circumstance to favor the secrecy of their movements; yet their success casts a reflection upon the watchfulness of the Confederates. It was true that the darkness, the rain, and the tempestuous wind, were sufficient to hide all the movements of the fugitives from the sentries; but surely, on all that extended front, there ought to have been some scouts adventurous and shrewd enough to penetrate the enemy's lines, by some mode, and gather some data which would be decisive of their purpose to fight or flee. The Confederate commander was much disappointed by the result. Another imperfect victory had been added to the list of his exploits, in which the glory of a masterly strategy and heroic courage at the beginning, was overclouded by a partial forfeiture of the anticipated fruits of victory. His beaten enemy had again extricated himself from a situation, which promised a complete triumph and a speedy peace to the Confederacy. Doubtless General Lee admitted in his own breast, that had he foreseen this escape of Burnside, he ought to have taken the aggressive against him during the two days of inaction, in some [628] way. But what that way should have been, it was still not so easy to determine. His advantage over Burnside in position and facility of attack, was after all more seeming than real. In front of the Confederate right, the Federalists held fast to the two embankments of the river road, which they made almost impregnable with countless batteries, and double lines of infantry; and where they were protected by the fire of their guns of long range from the north bank. If General Jackson would reach these lines, he must leave his position in the wooded hills, and advance into the plain, where every advantage passed from his side to that of his enemy. At Fredericksburg, the more contracted space brought either party which took the aggressive immediately under a murderous fire from the opposing heights. If the Confederates advanced, they seemed to incur the same disadvantages which the Federalists had found so disastrous at Marye's Hill.

But in one particular, General Jackson differed from his associates, in his estimate of the situation. He did not consider the battle of the 13th of December as a mere prelude to a greater struggle. He appreciated the full influence of the events of that day upon the army of Burnside, and was convinced that it was at the end of that day a beaten army, and would attempt nothing more on that ground. He did not expect a renewal of their assaults the next morning, although his vigilance prompted to take every precaution against it. He saw clearly that it was for the Confederates to take the initiative next, or else the affair would continue incomplete. In this, he showed his customary sagacity, and that almost infallible insight into his adversary's condition and temper, which had guided him in previous campaigns. But his habitual modesty prevented his obtruding his opinions; and there is no certain evidence what plan of action he would have recommended. [629]

The handling of Captain Hardaway's Whitworth rifle during the 14th, upon the highlands east of the Massaponax, gave one indication, which deserved to be followed up. Mounting a strawrick which stood upon a bold hill there, in range with the distant line of the river road, he stationed his gun beside it; and glass in hand, directed a slow and accurate fire upon the enemy's position. They could make no effective reply; and with his one piece, he so enfiladed and raked that road as to compel them to remove their batteries to other ground. One of his shells was supposed to have slain the Federal General Bayard, near the centre of the Federal army, and three miles distant. Now, had a strong detachment of Jackson's guns of longest range been likewise posted in the Highlands, during the 14th, their fire might so far have counterbalanced that of the Federal artillery, as to enable him, with the remainder of his corps, to overwhelm their left, without ruinous loss to himself, by a front and flank attack combined. But the most obvious expedient for completing the discomfiture of Burnside's army, was to concentrate powerful masses of artillery on all the hills commanding the city itself, and disregarding the reply from the Stafford Heights, to overwhelm the whole locality with a sustained cannonade. The drift of the Federal troops was continually toward the streets of the town, after the battle of Saturday; there were their most numerous bridges; and thither the stragglers rushed for spoils. The streets and open spaces were doubtless so crowded with men during the whole occupation, that such a bombardment must have inflicted a bloody loss; and the approaches to all the bridges near the town being thus made impracticable, the sense of its insecurity might have plunged the whole army into panic. Two motives held back the hands of the Confederates from this obvious experiment; the expectation of having a more urgent use for the ammunition, [630] to fight another general action in their chosen position; and compassion for two or three hundred citizens of the gallant town, who were supposed to be still clinging to their ruined homes.

The failure of this grand attempt of Burnside plunged the Federal Government and people into mortification and rage. For once, the disappointment was too bitter to be concealed; and their anguish rendered them temporarily honest enough to forego their customary boastings. The butchery of their men, and the profound discouragement of the survivors, were fully avowed. The Federal ministry compelled poor Burnside to make himself the scape-goat for the fault, by assuming, in a published order, the whole responsibility of the movement. The blatant press now denounced their late favorite with an injustice equal to their former senseless adulation. And a Congressional Committee of inquiry visited the army, and gathered the evidence for completing his disgrace. He was, after a little, removed from his command, and succeeded by his insubordinate and boastful Lieutenant, Hooker. His army was quietly withdrawn a few miles from the river, and cantoned in winter-quarters in the counties of Stafford and King George.

It is believed that the reader, in reviewing the affair of Fredericksburg, will concur in the assertion with which the narrative began: that Burnside's plan was not ill-conceived. With the means which his Government placed at his disposal, the attempt to cross the Rappahannock at Fredericksburg, in the face of Lee's army, was feasible; and since Burnside's masters dictated to him the necessity of marching on Richmond by some route, the essay which he chose, was proper for him to make. The only real obstacle was the Confederate army; but that must be met somewhere; and his Government and people were unanimous in asserting that he both could and must overthrow it in some way. [631] The conception of Burnside, then, was good. His first fault was, that he did not estimate with practical wisdom the uncertainties and bureau impotency of the administration; so as to make sure of all the apparatus necessary for a prompt movement, such as pontoon trains, by his own personal superintendence. He began to move from Warrenton to his new base on the 13th of November. Two marches should have brought him to Fredericksburg. The last of Longstreet's corps did not arrive until the 21st. With all his preparations duly anticipated, and with reasonably prompt movements, he should have crossed the river in force, and been master of the southern bank, before the Confederates were in a condition to meet him. But the very odds which they found themselves compelled to bring against the Confederates, in order to cope with them, always rendered their army an unwieldy monster, too cumbrous for any one mind to comprehend or handle with precision.

After the opportunity for a sudden surprise was thus lost, Burnside proceeded with skill and judgment in the disposition which he made of his superior artillery, and in the measures by which he forced the passage of the river. But then his blunders began again. Of these the greatest was the direct attempt to storm Marye's Hill, which was the very last point to which his efforts should have been directed. An attack upon the extreme of the Confederate left, or upon their centre,--anything would have been less reprehensible. But his opportunity was, in fact, only upon the right; and all his real weight should have been thrown against Jackson. If he had moved promptly under the dense fog of the 12th of December, while as yet neither Early nor D. H. Hill were in position, he might have carried, by h41 infantry, positions which would have transferred the decisive battle to the interior of Spottsylvania, or to the North Anna. Or else, if he had employed that day in bridging the Massaponax [632] near its mouth, and in opening ways for his vast artillery force near the eastern highlands; if he had made all his operations nearer Fredericksburg, on the 13th, a feint, and instead of allowing a large part of Hooker's grand division to hang as a useless reserve about the Stafford heights until the day was practically lost, had pressed forward the whole of it to support Franklin, and had thus moved in force upon both sides of the Massaponax, he might have reasonably promised himself a successful issue. It was manifest that the railroad from Fredericksburg to Richmond must be the essential part of General Lee's line of operations. But the direction of that thoroughfare down the valley of the Rappahannock, indicated that Burnside should advance only by his left; besides that, the country on his left flank was every way the more favorable to him. There is no boast in saying, that if it had been Jackson, with the Confederate army, who had seized the northern edge of the plateau of Fredericksburg, and Burnside who stood on the defensive upon the Spottsylvania hills, the former would have been as sure of occupying enough of the hills of the Massaponax to turn the position of the latter successfully, as the sun of the 13th rose upon the two armies.

It was manifest that the retreat of Burnside was the end of the campaign for the winter. The army of General Lee therefore proceeded to construct its winter-quarters in the wooden country behind the Rappahannock, the corps of General Jackson stretching from the neighborhood of Guinea's Station toward Port Royal. Very soon the men were comfortably housed in huts of their own construction, and settled down into the monotonous routine of the cantonment. General Jackson, after a few days' hesitation, established his Headquarters at Moss Neck, the hospitable mansion of Mr. Corbin, midway between Fredericksburg and Port Royal, and near the centre of his troops. Declining the offer of rooms in the commodious dwelling, lest he [633] should unavoidably trespass upon the convenience of its inmates, he accepted tile use of a sporting-lodge at the edge of the lawn for his lodgings. In the upper room of this cottage his pallet was spread; and the lower, still ornamented with the prints and trophies of the chase appropriate to its former uses, was occupied as his office. A large tent, erected near by, supplied the place of a dining-room for his mess. With these humble arrangements he addressed himself diligently to the improvement of his command, and the preparation of his official reports, to which the bustle of the extraordinary campaign just closed had forbidden his giving attention before. While the troops were steadily engaged in the construction of their winter-quarters, of roads to the stations whence they drew their supplies through the railroad, and of an elaborate line of entrenchments, which covered the whole country from Fredericksburg to Port Royal, he set himself busily to bring up this arrear of office-work. In the composition of the reports of his battles his reverence for truth and justice was conspicuous. The facts were laboriously examined by him; and then every sentence of his narrative was reviewed and scanned with most anxious care, that all might be true to the reality. The language of exaggeration was jealously avoided, nor did he descend to rhetorical portraiture: all was the severe simplicity of history. Yet these reports are models of perspicuity, of transparent plainness, and of true graphic power; and the literary man of true taste will esteem them as excellent specimens of narrative. This labor was continued, at intervals, throughout the winter; and was just completed when the advance of Hooker, in the following spring, summoned him to that crowning exploit, of which his death left the narration in other hands.

His attention was now addressed to an evil which had always been grievous in the Confederate armies,--absence from the [634] ranks without leave. Employing his friend, the Hon. Mr. Boteler, as his advocate in Congress, he urgently called the attention of the Committee on Military Affairs to this abuse. He declared that if it could be corrected even approximately, and the larger part of the absentees could be recalled to the ranks, the army would be so increased that, with the Divine blessing, one more campaign would sweep the enemy from the soil of the Confederate States. One of his brigades reported twelve hundred absentees I He proposed a novel plan, in which he expressed great confidence, for abating the nuisance. This was, to offer a pecuniary reward for the apprehension and delivery of all men reported as absent without leave, to be paid at first by the Government, but afterwards re-imbursed from the pay of the delinquent. To carry out this conception, he proposed that it should be embodied substantially in the following form:--

“Suppose, for instance; that a brigade-commander makes an arrangement with persons not liable to military duty, to arrest and deliver his absentees; and that he requires each companycommander, as soon as he knows that one of his men is absent without leave, to send up to brigade-headquarters a certificate of the fact; and the brigade-commander sends the certificate to one of the persons with whom he has previously agreed to arrest and bring back his absentees; and that whenever the delinquent and certificate shall be delivered to the commanding officer of a military post or camp, such commanding officer gives a receipt for the same; and upon the presentation of such receipt to the Quartermaster of the post or camp, he pays the reward,--say, fifteen dollars. In order to indemnify the Government, let the commanding officer of the post or camp not only send to the company-commander the man, but also a notification that a receipt has been given for his delivery, in order that the company-commander may enter [635] the reward opposite the man's name on the muster and pay-roll, so as to have it stopped from his pay.”

This proposal was never submitted to the test of experiment. General Jackson at least endeavored to set a wholesome example of the duty of adherence to the service. He had never had a day of furlough. When invited by a friend to allow himself a little respite for a visit at his hpuse, where he might meet his wife and the infant daughter which he had never seen, he replied expressing the delight which such a vacation would give him; but firmly declining the proposal. A characteristic letter to Mrs. Jackson may be introduced here, illustrating this matter.

The new year brought him the sad news of the re-occupation of Winchester by the Federal army. His friends there were now subjected to the tyranny and outrages of the Federal General Milroy. Under his rule, the most vexatious and cruel restrictions were placed upon the people; and the plunder of their dwellings was shamelessly transferred to the private baggage of the Commander. Nothing which could, characterize the baseness of a petty despot, was lacking to the history of this man; and when, after the fall of General Jackson, Winchester was recaptured by his corps under General Ewell, Milroy crowned his infamy by running away from his command through by-roads, leaving them without a leader in the clutches of the avenging patriots. The story of the wrongs of the people now stirred the depths of Jackson's heart. His estimate of the value of the district to the Confederacy was revived by his grief and indignation, and he exerted all his influence with the Commander-in-Chief, to have an army sent for its deliverance. His constant judgment was still, that a force stationed in the lower Valley, and subsisted from the resources of the country, would render a service more efficient than the same numbers could render elsewhere, by preserving the riches of the country to the Confederacy, and by making a threatening diversion, which would embarrass any invasion of northern Virginia. He declared that the country would still sustain twenty thousand men, who should be sent there under an energetic leader, and he proposed General Early for the post. But General Lee did not deem that he had men to spare for the detachment; although the difficulty of provisioning his army in Spottsylvania did induce him, later in the season, [637] to send General Longstreet, with a part of his corps, to southeastern Virginia; where they were detained until after the battle of Chancellorsville, without other result than some successful foraging.

While General Jackson was himself the commander in the Valley District, his modesty and disinterestedness had prevented his asking for larger powers, although he had felt, in the campaign of 1862, the cruel inconvenience of his subordination to a distant commander, who was necessarily ignorant of much which should guide his action there. But now, in asking that another should command there, he urged; that the country should be elevated to an independent Military Department, with its own General, who should receive his orders directly from the supreme power. He strenuously declared that he did not desire to be again detached for that service, but every way preferred a subordinate command, near General Lee's person.

Indeed, it was manifest that his happiness was greatly increased by the removal of the load of separate responsibility, and administrative cares, which his present position gained for him. His companions in arms noted in him a considerable and pleasing change. The brow of care was more frequently relaxed; his warm social impulses were more freely indulged; and his meals, which had been usually despatched in haste and silence, became now seasons of cheerful relaxation, in which he was a quiet and unobtrusive, but joyous participant. Especially did he unbend, when visited after the hours of business, by his valued comrade in arms, General Stuart. In patriotism, in zeal for duty, in daring courage, and in military enterprise, these two men were kindred and sympathetic spirits; but in temperament, Stuart's exuberant cheerfulness and humor seemed to be the happy relief, as they were the opposites to Jackaon's serious and diffident temper. To Jackson himself, it was a pleasure to have [638] his sobriety thawed by the gay laugh and jest of the great cavalier; while his occasional visits to the mess were the signals of high fun to the young men of the Staff. While Stuart poured out his “quips and cranks,” not seldom at Jackson's expense, the latter sat by, sometimes unprepared with any repartee, sometimes blushing, but always enjoying the jest with a quiet and sunny laugh. The ornaments which the former proprietor of Moss Neck had left upon the walls of the General's quarters, gave Stuart many a topic for badinage. Affecting to believe that they were of General Jackson's selection, he pointed now to the portrait of some famous racer, and now to the print of some dog, celebrated for his hunting feats, as queer revelations of the private tastes of the great Presbyterian. He, with a quiet smile, only replied, that perhaps he had, in his youth, had more to do with race-horses than his friends suspected. He referred to his school-boy days at the forest home of his uncle, Cummings Jackson. It was in the midst of such a scene as this, one day, that dinner was announced; and the two Generals passed to the mess-table. It so happened that Jackson had just received, as a present from a patriotic lady, some butter, upon the adornment of which the fair donor had exhausted her housewife's skill, and that the print impressed upon its surface was a gallant cock. The servants, in honor of General Stuart's presence, had chosen this to grace the centre of the board. As his eye fell upon it, he paused, and with mock gravity, pointed to it, saying : “See there, gentlemen If there is not the crowning evidence of our host's sporting tastes. He even puts his favorite game-cock upon his butter” The dinner of course began with inextinguishable laughter, in which General Jackson joined with as much enjoyment as any.

His fame had now become world-wide; and while he attracted the enthusiastic admiration of his countrymen, strangers from [639] Europe made pilgrimages to the army to gain a view of the great soldier. They found him, not the bizarre and austere hero he had been described by popular fancy, but the modest, courteous gentleman, who offered the scanty hospitality of his quarters, and cared for their comfort with an almost feminine tenderness. His domestic tastes soon began to seek their solace among the children of the family nearby; and he selected one, a sweet girl of six years, Jane Corbin, as his especial favorite. He requested of her mother that she should visit him every afternoon, after the labors of the day were finished; and he always provided himself with some present, suitable for her child's taste, which he laid away in his drawer: an apple, an orange, a bundle of candy, or a gay print. Sometimes the interview was passed with his little friend sitting upon his knee, engaged in eager converse; while at others, the noises which proceeded from the office showed that they were indulging in a good, hearty romp together. One evening, when she came, he had no gift for her. At the close of their play, his eye fell upon a new-cap, which Mrs. Jackson had lately sent him, which was far plainer than that appropriate to a Lieutenant-General: but which still was encircled with one band of broad gold braid. Taking his penknife, he ripped this off, and saying to the child, “This shall be your coronet,” fastened it with his own hand around her fair locks; and then stood contemplating her with delight. A letter to his wife contains the following reference to it:

I became so much ashamed of the broad gold lace that was on the cap you sent me, as to induce me to take it off. I like simplicity.

This gift, the reader will say, Jane Corbin doubtless preserved with jealous care, to be the most cherished ornament of her womanhood. Alas! no. The sweet child was destined to precede her hero-friend to that world where they both wear a purer crown; and the sad mother, now also a [640] soldier's widow, guards it as the memorial of her bereavement. The very day General Jackson left Moss Neck to prepare for the spring campaign, little Jane was seized with that fearful scourge of the innocents, scarlet fever, and expired after a sickness of a day. The General felt her loss with a pungent grief; but the sterner cares of the army forbade his expending time in the indulgence of sorrow. He left his quarters for the last time, cumbered with the thousand wants of his great command, while the child lay dying. His sympathy with the bereaved parents was also quickened by his own parental anxieties. It was about this time that his letters brought him news that his own infant daughter, whose face he had never seen, was ill with a threatening disease. He stated the accounts of its symptoms to his friend, Dr. McGuire, in whose medical wisdom he so confided, and asked his advice, that he might write it to his wife. As he closed his inquiries, he said, with a voice quivering with emotion, “I do wish that dear child, if it is God's will, to be spared to us.” This prayer was answered; and the witnessing of its smiles was the last earthly joy which was assigned to him, as he finished his course.

The winter at Moss Neck was also marked by a farther increase of General Jackson's spirituality and Christian activity. Like the planet approaching its central sun, his soul moved with accelerated speed toward the Sun of righteousness. As he drew nearer to the centre of his divine attraction, his spiritual joy became yet more abundant. While his modesty was undiminished, his plans of exertion for the Church of God became more bold and comprehensive. His-enjoyment of the Sabbath Day became higher than ever; and every source of happiness was traced up more gratefully to the heavenly Giver. A few extracts from his letters to his wife are introduced here, evincing the glowing piety of his affections:-- [641]

Our ever gracious heavenly Father is exceedingly kind to me, and strikingly manifests it by the kindness with which He disposes people to treat me. (Then mentioning a number of presents.) And so God, my exceeding great Joy, is continually showering His blessings upon me, an unworthy creature.

I hope to have the privilege of joining in prayer for peace at the time you name, and hope that all our Christian people will; but peace should not be the chief object of prayer in our country. It should aim more specially at imploring God's forgiveness of our sins, and praying that He will make our people a holy people. If we are but his, all things shall work together for the good of our country, and no good thing will He withhold from it. ... If I know my unworthy self, my desire is to live entirely and unreservedly to God's glory. Pray that I may so live.

January 17th, 1863. “I derive an additional pleasure in reading a letter, resulting from a conviction that it has not been travelling on the Sabbath. How delightful will be our heavenly home, where everything is sanctified!”

January 22nd. “I regret to see our Winchester friends again in the hands of the enemy. I trust that, in answer to prayer, our country will soon be blessed with peace. If we were only that obedient people that we should be, I should, with increased confidence, look for a speedy termination of hostilities. Let us pray more, and live more to the glory of God.”

“Our heavenly Father is continually blessing me with presents. He withholds no good thing from me. I desire to be more thankful, and trust that through His blessing I shall grow in grace.”

February 3d. “I trust, that in answer to the prayers of God's people, He will soon give us peace. I haven't seen my wife for nearly a year, and my home for nearly two years; and I never have seen my sweet little daughter.” ... “My old brigade has built a log church; as yet I have not been in it. I [642] am much interested in reading Hunter's ‘Life of Moses.’ It is a delightful book, and I feel more improved in reading it than by an ordinary sermon. I am thankful to say that my Sabbaths are passed more in meditation than formerly. Time thus spent is genuine enjoyment.”

Writing of some presents from London, he says: “Our ever kind heavenly Father gives me friends among strangers. He is the source of every blessing, and I desire to be more grateful to Him.”

“ To-morrow is the Sabbath. My Sabbaths are looked forward to with pleasure. I don't know that I ever enjoyed Sabbaths as I do this winter. I do hope, trust, and pray, that our people will religiously observe the 27th day of next month as a day of humiliation, prayer, and fasting, as the President has designated in his proclamation.”

General Jackson, hoping, in common with many of his fellowcitizens, that the victories which God had vouchsafed to the Confederate arms in the year 1862, would convince the Federal people of the wickedness and unreasonable nature of their war, indulged some expectation that peace was not far off. It was his earnest desire, that when the people of the Confederate States then proceeded to adjust the working of their institutions, they should recognize the rights of God more distinctly, and that the Christian Church should put forth more saving power in society. One subject of his pious solicitude was, the laws of Congress which required the carrying and opening of the mails on the Sabbath; thus, not only permitting, but exacting, of a class of the citizens, the profaning of the day by secular labor. He had ever been accustomed to cherish a peculiar reverence for the Sabbath Day; and hearing that the propriety of this anti-Christian legislation was discussed in Congress, he exerted every lawful influence to bring about its repeal. To his friend, Hon. Mr. Boteler, he wrote as follows:-- [643]

[644]

Similar letters were also written to others, engaging their assistance to further the repeal of the law. To his friend, Colonel Preston, of Lexington, an elder of his church, he wrote to the same effect, seeking to enlist his pen; and afterward to secure, through him, the weight of the General Assemby of the Presbyterian Church, at its approaching meeting. To Colonel Preston he wrote thus:--

“I greatly desire to see peace,--blessed peace. And I am persuaded, that if God's people throughout our Confederacy will earnestly and perseveringly unite in-imploring His interposition for peace, we may expect it. Let our Government acknowledge the God of the Bible as its God, and we may expect soon to be a happy and independent people. It appears to me that extremes are to be avoided; and it also appears to me that the old United States occupied an extreme position in the means it took to prevent the union of Church and State. We call ourselves a Christian people; and it seems to me that our Government may be of the same character, without connecting itself with an established Church. It does appear to me that as our President, our Congress, and our people have thanked God for victories, and prayed to Him for additional ones, and He has answered such prayers, and gives us a Government, it is gross ingratitude not to acknowledge Him in the gift. Let the framework of our Government show that we are not ungrateful to Him.”

But the great work which most engrossed his heart was the spiritual improvement of the army, and especially of his cops. His soul had rejoiced, with unspeakable gladness, at the incipient showers of Divine grace which began to descend during the autumn. He had from the first lamented the destitutions of the army, where more than half the regiments were without chaplains, and the inefficiency of those who were present. He saw them laboring without plan and concert, and therefore without [645] efficiency. He saw them leaving their charges in the midst of hardships and dangers, upon unnecessary grounds; thus unconsciously fostering the feeling of the unbelieving many, that the spiritual officer was less essential to the regiment than the secular; and so, inviting indifference to their labors when they were present. He was accustomed to say, that if an ecclesiastical organization and control for clergymen had been found necessary in civil life, they should equally be applied to these military pastors; and, again, that it was as reasonable that they should be held to their duties by a due subordination, as surgeons or captains. It had long been his desire to have some impulse communicated to their labors; and he now made the following suggestions to the Rev. Dr. White:--

On the first of March, Rev. Mr. Lacy, a minister of the Presbyterian church, came, on General Jackson's invitation, to his Headquarters, to begin the species of labors described in the above letter. The Government, after a time, commissioned him as an army chaplain, without assigning him to a particular regiment; an exceptional act of courtesy accorded to General Jackson's high character and express request. In his letter to his other friends, he had modestly expressed his inexperience of ecclesiastical affairs, and his intention to commit the details of the plan of evangelical labors in the army to the advice of the clergyman, after Mr. Lacy had examined his ground. But the scheme adopted was that which the General had entertained in his own mind in the beginning of the campaign of 1862, and which, indeed, he had then attempted to effect. The exacting nature of the campaign, and the failure to enjoy at that time the assistance upon which he relied for its execution, had caused its postponement. But it was his design, which was now in substance resumed. His objects were three: to supply regiments destitute of chaplains with a partial substitute in the shape of the itinerant labors of efficient ministers; to supply a channel of intercourse between the army and the bodies of clergy of different denominations, through which the latter might learn the wants of the former, and to give to the labors of the chaplains and other ministers in the army, the unity and impulse of an ecclesiastical organization within their own peculiar field. His chaplain was intended by him to be an exemplar, who, he hoped, would be followed by many others from among the most efficient preachers of all churches, until they should be brought into vital sympathy with the army. [649]

One of the measures adopted was the preaching of the gospel at the Headquarters of General Jackson, and under his immediate countenance, every Sabbath, while the troops were in their camps. For this end, a place in the open field was prepared, near Hamilton's crossing, (to which General Jackson removed his quarters soon after,) with rude seats and a temporary pulpit, where public worship was held in the open air. The example of so famous a warrior, always potent among soldiers when sustained by official rank, the curiosity to see him and the galaxy of celebrities who came to worship with him, the eloquence of the preachers, and the purer motives which the great religious awakening now began to propagate far and wide, soon drew a vast congregation to this spot on the Sabbath days. From hundreds it grew to thousands, until the assemblage surrounded the preacher in a compact mass, as far as his voice could be distinctly heard. Here, on a brights Sabbath in the spring, might be seen the stately head of the Commander-in-Chief, with a crowd of Generals, whose names had been borne by fame across the ocean, and of legislators and statesmen, bowed along with the multitude of private soldiers, in divine worship; while the solemn and tender wave of sacred emotion subdued the great and the unknown alike before it. At these scenes, which were so directly produced by his instrumentality, General Jackson was the most unobtrusive assistant. Seated in some retired spot amidst the private soldiers, he listened to the worship and the preaching with an edifying attention, and watched the power of the truth upon the great congregation, with a glow of elevated and tender delight. Never, since the days when Whitefield preached to the mingled crowd of peers and beggars in Moorfields, has the sky looked down upon a more imposing worship.

Another enterprise which marked the evangelical labors of [650] this winter, was the building of temporary chapels by the men for their own worship. Two or three contiguous regiments usually concurred in the work. .Tall trees were cut down, and brought to the spot by the teams of the Quartermasters, and built into walls of logs. Chimneys were built of the same rude material, and plastered with clay, whence the huge fires, and the torches of resinous pine, diffused a ruddy glow of warmth and light. The structure was roofed with clapboards, and seated with rude benches formed from the split bodies of trees. The Stonewall Brigade was the first to begin this work, to General Jackson's great delight. No sooner had they completed their own huts, than they set to work, and by a multitude of willing hands, completed their church in a few days. The next Sabbath it was formally dedicated to the worship of God; and during the winter, was constantly occupied in turn by the chaplains of the several regiments. During the week, frequent meetings for prayer, and bible classes, were held here by torchlight, and the men were encouraged to expend their leisure in the study of the scriptures, and in sacred music, instead of the degrading amusements of the card-table. As this chapel was near the quarters of General Jackson, he often came to worship in it with his favorite brigade. Instead of affecting the chief seat in the synagogue, he delighted to sit among the rough, weather-beaten privates, and lay aside all official dignity to accompany them to the throne of grace on the common footing of worshippers. Their reverence for his person sometimes led them to leave a respectful distance between themselves and the seat he occupied; but he would never consent that any space should be thus lost, where so many were crowding to hear the word. As he saw them seeking seats elsewhere, he was accustomed to rise, and invite them by gesture to the vacancies near him; and was never so well satisfied as when he had an [651] unkempt soldier touching his elbow on either hand, and all the room about him compactly filled. Then he was ready to address himself with his usual fixed attention to the services.

The most important measure which he introduced was the weekly chaplains' meeting. This was a temporary association of all the chaplains and evangelists of his corps, who, on meeting, appointed one of their own number to preside as a chairman or moderator, and another as their secretary, and after joining in public worship, proceeded to consult upon the spiritual interests of their charges, to arrange and concert their labors, and to devise means for supplying the destitutions of the army. These counsels were a true evangelical union. By a common and silent consent, which bears high testimony to the cultivation and honor of these laborious men, all subjects of sectarian debate, were effectually excluded, and their deliberations were confined to the interests of our common Christianity. But it was also a high evidence of the general soundness of religious opinion in the Confederate States, that there was not a single regiment in the army, which showed a disposition to introduce a minister who did not belong to an evangelical and orthodox communion, as their chaplain, except one or two priests of the Romish Church. On the other hand, the office in the Federal army was as frequently filled by Universalists, and other erratic heretics, or by laymen who never preached, as by regular ministers of the gospel.

General Jackson displayed his delicate sense of propriety by not attending these weekly synods of his chaplains statedly himself. But he watched them with lively interest. As soon as his own chaplain returned from them, he was accustomed to call him, and say: “Now come and report.” He inquired into all that was said and done, and all the measures proposed, for evangelizing his command. When he was told of the fraternal [652] love which reigned among the chaplains, of the devout spirit manifested in their worship, and of the news of the ingathering of souls which they brought from their several charges, his eyes were often filled with happy tears, and he blessed God for the grace. The stated meetings of the chaplains were the means of awakening them to a greatly increased zeal and fidelity, as well as for adding system and concert to their labors. So that this service, which, while adorned by the fidelity of a number of truly apostolic men, had yet fallen, in general, into no little disfavor, was now thoroughly renovated. Thus the energy of General Jackson's will, though so modestly exerted, made itself felt among his-chaplains, just as among his staff and field officers, in communicating efficiency and vigor to all their performance of duty. It was remarked of him, that while no General officer had so unpretending a Staff, none other was so efficient as his. This was due not so much to the character of the men who constituted it, as to the force of his own example and energy, in inspiring the spirit of endeavor, among all who were subject to his authority.

The weekly meetings of the chaplains effected more good than he had hoped from them; for he had warned others not to anticipate too much. Hence, when he found that his plans were bearing so much fruit, he was filled with delight. One of the benefits of the movement was the bringing of the ministers in the army into closer connexion with his person. His own chaplain was a bond of union also between himself and the others, through which they were encouraged to visit his quarters more unreservedly, and to know and love him, not as a commander only, but also as a Christian. To every worthy preacher of the gospel his manner was full of warmth and tenderness, showing that he esteemed them very highly in love for their work's sake. Everything was done with a thoughtful affection, to facilitate their labors, and [653] provide for their comforts. His contributions from his private purse were also large, to provide them with means for supplying their charges with Bibles and religious reading. The Government had never made any provision for the support of the chaplains in their work, other than a very inadequate salary. The General now applied to the Military Committee of Congress, to bring in a law enabling Quartermasters to provide chaplains, like other officers, with tents, fuel, and forage for horses. This just measure was indeed neglected amidst the hurry of the closing session, but was finally adopted by a subsequent Congress.

General Jackson, in his intercourse with his chaplains, often inculcated their obligation “to endure hardness, as good soldiers of Jesus Christ,” to live with their regiments, and acquire their confidence by sharing their exposures, and to cleave to their work amidst all the pains and crosses which the common soldiers were compelled by the law of their country to endure. He said that a chaplain should not think of resigning his post for any less cause than would justify a field-officcr in laying down his commission; and that they should no more think than he, of leaving his regiment without a regular furlough, founded upon just cause. To do so, he argued, taught the men by a practical lesson, that the soul was less important than the body, and that secular duties were more urgent than the business of redemption.

When with chaplains whom he esteemed like-minded, General Jackson was very sure to turn all conversation speedily into a spiritual channel. With intimate Christian friends, the things of God were almost his exclusive topics in private. His favorite subjects now were, the importance of an unshaken faith; of casting all our care upon God in the diligent performance of duty; and of the evidences of the Divine faithfulness in the course of Providence and redemption. He spoke emphatically of the duty of [654] conforming our wills to God's, and of a thoroughly cheerful acquiescence whenever His will was manifested. He was often delighted to speculate upon the modes in which the Divine will might be safely ascertained. His favorite maxim was: “Duty is ours: consequences are God's.” He spoke much also of the blessedness of a full and hearty obedience, in its effects upon the Christian's own happiness. He often declared that it was his first desire to command a “converted army.” This, he believed, enjoying the spiritual favor of God upon their individual souls, engaged in a just cause, and undertaking every enterprise with prayer, must meet with success; and prove, in the end, invincible. He spoke frequently also of the connexion between national obedience and public prosperity; declaring that it is holiness which exalteth a people; and showing the supreme importance of the Government's at least refraining from placing itself, in any way, in opposition to God's laws and institutions. Hence his zeal for the outward and spiritual observance of the Sabbath, which has been noted.

One more favorite project remains to be mentioned, in which about this time, he sought to interest those who met him. This was the establishment of a Christian Daily Newspaper, which should honor God by refraining from all Sabbath work. He argued that their issue of Monday should contain nothing printed after Saturday evening; and that Christians should be willing to receive their news later by one day, once during the week, in order to honor God's law. If this delay should diminish the circulation of such a journal, and make it less remunerative than others; he declared that he was willing to repay a part of this loss out of his own means.

As soon as his quarters were established at Hamilton's Crossing, he began the custom of regular domestic worship in his mess, each morning. These services were willingly attended by [655] all his staff, out of respect for his Christian character, or from their own interest in them. He, who was of all men least obtrusive in his religion, carefully forbore from commanding their attendance, although his beaming face indicated plainly enough the pleasure he felt in seeing them present. Whenever his chaplain was not there, he always conducted these services himself, with his customary unction and humility. On Wednesday and Sunday nights, there was also a prayer meeting observed at his quarters, where he was always a worshipper, and led the devotions of his brethren, when desired to do so by a minister. A few of the young men upon his Staff had cultivated the delightful art of sacred music. On the afternoon of the Sabbaths, when the necessary business, which he always reduced within the narrowest limits, was despatched, it was his favorite occupation to have singing; and frequently, as the little choir was concluding, he said; “Now let us have the hymn;”

How happy are they
ho their Saviour obey.

On every intelligent Christian who approached him at this time, he made the impression of the most eminent sanctity. They all left him with this testimony: that he was the holiest man they had ever seen.

The following extracts from letters to Mrs. Jackson may be introduced here.

The effort thus begun in General Jackson's corps, was imitated in the others. The movement was not limited to the army of Virginia: but was also propagated in the South and West. Soon the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church, and the other ecclesiastical authorities, encouraged by the advice which the friends of General Jackson were permitted to quote from him, began to take action on behalf of the army; and a number of the most distinguished ministers were sent to the different corps to labor with the chaplains as itinerants, and to communicate the wants of the army to the churches. The speedy fall of the originator of the work rather gave new impetus to it, than retarded it; and the result was, that general revival of religion in the Confederate armies, which has been even more astonishing to the world, than the herculean exertions of the Confederate States. A wide-spread reform of morals was wrought, which was obvious to every spectator, in the repression of profanity and drunkenness, the increase of order and discipline, and the good [657] conduct of the troops in battle. It was just those commands in which this work of grace was most powerful, that became the most trustworthy in the post of danger. The brigade of Barksdale, for instance, which had held its ground in Fredericksburg with almost incredible resolution under the great bombardment, was equally noted for its religious zeal. Returning to their post of honor in the city, they occupied one of the deserted churches as their chapel, and maintained a constant series of nightly meetings, attended by numerous conversions, for many weeks. In short, the conversions in the various Confederate armies within the ensuing year, were counted, by the most sober estimate, at twelve thousand men. The strange spectacle was now presented, of a people among whom the active religious life seemed to be transferred from the churches at home — the customary seats of piety — to the army; which, among other nations, has always been dreaded as the school of vice and infidelity. Thus, the grief and fears of the good, lest this gigantic war should arrest the religious training of the whole youth of the land, cut off the supply of young preachers for its pulpits, and rear up for the country a generation of men profane and unchristian, were happily consoled; they accepted this new marvel, of an army made the home and source of the religious life of a nation, with grateful joy, as another evidence of the favor of God to the afflicted people.

The reader has seen an allusion of General Jackson's letter, to the bright hopes which he entertained of a prosperous campaign. By his diligence during the winter, his corps had been brought to such numbers and efficiency as it had never reached before. It now contained more than thirty thousand fighting men; and it was animated by a towering spirit of determination and confidence. It was soon after his removal to Hamilton's Crossing, that a member of his Staff, alluding to the [658] reported vast preparations of the enemy, described to him the temper of his own men, and their eagerness for the coming collision. As he listened, the fire of battle kindled more and more in his face, until he sprung from his seat, and exclaimed: “I wish the enemy would come on!” Then raising his eyes reverently, he added: “My trust is in God.” Thus his spirit was girding itself for the coming struggle, with faith and prayer. The collision which was approaching promised indeed to be one which might well have made the heart stand still with awe. Hooker was again recruiting his monstrous army to its former numbers, and was preparing every means for a new advance on Richmond. The precursor of the new campaign was an irruption of three thousand Federal cavalry across Kelly's Ford into the county of Culpepper. The design of their General, Averill, was to reach the Central Railroad, ascertain something of the positions and numbers of the Confederates, and break up their line of supplies toward Gordonsville. But General Stuart met him near Kelly's Ford with eight hundred men of the brigade of FitzHugh Lee, and after a stubbornly-contested combat drove him back across the Rappahannock.

The season of quiet was happily closed for General Jackson by a visit from his wife and daughter. Having secured lodgings for them at the neighboring country-seat of a gentleman, near Hamilton's Crossing, he yielded at length to Mrs. Jackson's solicitations, and to his own affection, and about the middle of April met them at the railroad station. The arrival of the mailtrain from Richmond was the signal, every day, for the assemblage of a great crowd of officers and soldiers off duty, around the place. In the midst of these the General came forward to the doors of the cars, to receive his expected treasures.

“The infant, refreshed by long slumber, had just awakened, and looked up at him with a countenance very fresh and bright. [659] His first care, after the accustomed salutation, was to get the mother and child safely through the crowd and rain into the carriage which was to convey them to their temporary home. Arrived there, he divested himself of his wet overcoat, and taking his baby into his arms, caressed it with tender delight, exclaiming upon its beauty and size. Henceforth, his chief pleasure was in caressing her, and he was several times seen, while she was sleeping, kneeling long over her cradle, watching her with a face beaming with admiration and happiness.”

This visit was a source of unalloyed delight to him. His first care was to make arrangements for the baptism of the child; for the uncertainties of the day warned him that both the parents might not speedily meet again to concur in the sacred rite. He therefore caused his chaplain to administer baptism to it at the quarters of Mrs. Jackson, among a small circle of their personal friends. Such was his devotion to duty, that the attractions of his family made slight change in his busy habits; and his time was employed as strictly as ever, in the care of his command. After the labors of the day were completed, he was accustomed to leave his tent, and dine, with one or two comrades, with Mrs. Jackson, spending his evenings with her, chiefly in joyous romps with little Julia. She, on her part, immediately formed the closest intimacy with her new admirer, and learned to prefer his caresses to all others. [660]