Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 19.
Reverend J. William Jones, Ed.

[313] only, and that it was agreed that no arms should be touched. The Confederate scanned the Federal major from head to foot, moved a little to one side, and started on. The Federal officer rode in front of him again, and demanded this time more peremptorily that he should put down the gun. The Confederate looked at him as if inspecting him, and without speaking marched on. For a third time the major got in front of the soldier and threateningly demanded that he should put the gun down. The old Confederate looked at him very hard, examined him minutely and quietly, and then said: That's a monstrous fine pa'r of boots you got on; if you don't look out I'll git'em befo “ night.” I don't think the Confederate's brain had ever comprehended or entertained the major's demand. His mind was occupied entirely in coveting his neighbor's clothes.

When I told General Jackson of this incident he laughed very heartily.

The major I refer to, turned around to me after the Confederate moved off with his new gun, and said: “ It's a hard case to be fighting men who want your clothes. Yesterday when I was in the column that made the attack, all along the line could hear the Confederate soldiers crying, ‘Come out of them boots; get out of that hatwe want them clothes,’ and I find to-day the dead that I have removed stripped of everything they had.”

Talking about Jackson's propensity to sleep, I remember after the battles of the Seven Days Fight Around Richmond one Sunday we went to Dr. Hoge's church. He went to sleep soon after the service began and slept through the greater part of it. A man who can go to sleep under Dr. Hoge's preaching can go to sleep anywhere on the face of this earth. When the service was over the people climbed over the backs of the pews to get near him, and the aisles became crowded and General Jackson embarrassed. Presently he turned to me and said: “Doctor, didn't you say the horses were ready?” and I said, “Yes, sir,” and we bolted out of church.

Many a night I have kept him on his horse by holding on to his coat-tail. He always promised to do as much for me when he had finished his nap. He meant to do it I am sure, but my turn never came.

It was told that at a council of war held by Lee, Longstreet and Jackson, that the last named went fast to sleep, and when roused and dimly conscious that his opinion was asked he cried out: “Drive them into the river.”