Chapter 18: spring of 1863.Revivals, deep and genuine, prevailed in nearly every brigade of the army for weeks before the battle of Chancellorsville. In Barksdale's brigade, just before the fight, the number of conversions had reached two hundred, and when the heavy columns of Hooker began their movements the revival was spreading in greatest power. From their religious services the soldiers went forth to meet the foe; they hurled him back with dreadful loss, and again returned to hear the gospel from their ministers, and to hold their prayer-meetings. The Rev. W. H. Potter, of Georgia, who spent several weeks in the army, including the week of marches and battles, reported the work of grace to be progressing in a wonderful manner. Even the week's fighting did not interrupt it, but on the next Sabbath the regular services were held, and the revival went on with power. The movements of General Hooker were made with the hope of deceiving General Lee, but he was met and foiled at every point. On the 28th of April he crossed three army corps over the river, about twenty miles above Fredericksburg. His crossing was met and opposed. On the same night three corps were crossed several miles below that place under cover of a heavy fog. These were held at bay by our fortified positions, while General Lee repelled the attack on his left wing. Afterwards, General Hooker made pretence of withdrawing his forces below the town, and sending them to aid his right wing; and, while General Lee was fully engaged in the wilderness near Chancellorsville, he suddenly assaulted and carried Marye's Heights, the strongest  Confederate position near the town. On the 2d and 3d of May, General Lee drove the enemy from all his positions on our left, and immediately returning to his own right, re-took our lost positions and drove the Federals to the shelter of heavy batteries on the north bank of the river. On returning again to the left, he found that General Hooker had abandoned his entrenchments and re-crossed the river. The following are General Lee's official dispatches to President Davis:
The dark cloud that overhung this “great victory” was the death of Gen. Jackson. The sad story is here given as it was reported immediately after the battle, and is, no doubt, ill the main correct. By one of his rapid flank movements he had gained the rear of Hooker's army, impetuously assaulted his strong positions, driven him out of them, and, but for the approach of night, would have made the retreat an utter rout. Having placed his men in position ready for any movement that the critical occasion might require, he rode forward with several of his staff about 8 o'clock on Saturday evening, the 2d of May, to reconnoitre the Federal lines in front in the deep forest. Soon coming on the enemy's advancing line of skirmishers, they turned and rode rapidly back towards their own men, who, mistaking the party for Federal cavalry, stooped and delivered a deadly fire at the distance of twenty paces. “So sudden and stunning was this volley,” says Dr.  Dabney in his “life of Jackson,” and so near at hand, that every horse which was not shot down recoiled from it in panic, and turned to rush back, bearing their riders toward the approaching enemy. Several fell dead upon the spot, among them the courageous Captain Boswell; and more wounded. Among the latter was Gen. Jackson. His right hand was penetrated by a ball, his left fore-arm lacerated by another, and the same limb broken a little below the shoulder by a third, which not only crushed the bone, but severed the main artery. His horse also dashed, panic-stricken, toward the enemy, carrying him beneath the boughs of a tree, which inflicted severe blows, lacerated his face, and almost dragged him from the saddle. His bridle hand was now powerless, but seizing the reins with the right hand, notwithstanding its wound, he arrested his career and brought the animal back toward his own lines. He was followed by his faithful attendant, Captain Wilbourne, and his faithful assistant, Wynn, who overtook him as he passed again in the turnpike near the spot where he had received the fatal shots. ... Here General Jackson drew up his horse and sat for an instant gazing toward his own men, as if in astonishment at their cruel mistake, and in doubt whether he should again venture to approach them. To the anxious inquiries of Captain Wilbourne, he replied that he believed his arm was broken, and requested him to assist him from his horse and examine whether the wounds were bleeding dangerously. But before he could dismount he sunk fainting into their arms, so completely prostrate that they were compelled to disengage his feet from the stirrups.
They now bore him aside a few yards into the woods north of the turnpike, to shield him from the expected advance of the Federalists; and while Wynn was sent for an ambulance and surgeon, Wilbourne proceeded, supporting his head upon his bosom, to strip his mangled arm and bind up his wound. The warm blood was flowing  in a stream down his wrist; his clothing impeded all access to its source, and nothing was at hand more efficient than a pen-knife to remove the obstructions. But at this terrible moment he saw General Hill, with the remnant of his staff, approaching, and called to him for assistance. He, with his volunteer aide, Major Leigh, dismounted, and, taking the body of the General into his arms, succeeded in reaching the wound, and staunching the blood with a handkerchief. The swelling of the lacerated flesh had already performed this office in part. His two aides, Lieutenants Smith and Morrison, arrived at this moment, the former having been left at the rear to execute some orders, and the latter having just saved himself, at the expense of a stunning fall, by leaping from his horse as he was carrying him into the lines of the enemy. ... It was at this moment that two Federal skirmishers approached within a few feet of the spot where he lay, with their muskets cocked. They little knew what a prize was within their grasp; and when, at the command of General Hill, two orderlies arose from the kneeling group and demanded their surrender, they seemed amazed at their nearness to their enemies, and yielded their arms without resistance. Lieutenant Morrison, suspecting from their approach that the Federalists must be near at hand, stepped out into the road to examine, and by the light of the moon saw a field-piece pointed toward him, apparently not more than a hundred yards distant. ... Returning hurriedly, he announced that the enemy were planting artillery in the road, and that the General must be immediately removed. ... No ambulance or litter was at hand, although Captain Wilbourne had also been sent to seek them; and the necessity of an immediate removal suggested that they should bear the General away in their arms. To this he replied that if they would assist him to rise he could walk to the rear; and he was accordingly raised to his feet, and, leaning upon  the shoulders of Major Leigh and Lieutenant Smith, went slowly out into the highway and toward his troops. The party was now met by a litter, which some one had sent from the rear; and the General was placed upon it and borne along by two soldiers and Lieutenants Smith and Morrison. As they were placing him upon it, the enemy fired a volley of canister-shot up the road, which passed over their heads. But they had proceeded only a few steps before the discharge was repeated with a more accurate aim. One of the soldiers bearing the litter was struck down, severely wounded; and had not Major Leigh, who was walking beside it, broken his fall, the General would have been precipitated to the ground. He was placed again upon the earth; and the causeway was now swept by a hurricane of projectiles of every species, before which it seemed that no living thing could survive. The bearers of the litter, and all the attendants, excepting Major Leigh and the General's two aides, left him, and fled into the woods on either hand, to escape the fatal tempest; while the sufferer lay along the road, with his feet to the foe, exposed to all its fury. It was now that his three faithful attendants displayed a heroic fidelity which deserves to go down with the immortal name of Jackson to future ages. Disdaining to save their lives by deserting their chief, they lay down beside him in the causeway, and sought to protect him as far as possible with their bodies. On one side was Major Leigh, and on the other Lieutenant Smith. Gen. Jackson struggled violently to rise, as though to endeavor to leave the road; but Smith threw his arm over him, and with friendly force held him to the earth, saying, “ Sir, you must lie still; it will cost you your life to rise.” He speedily acquiesced, and lay quiet; but not one of the four hoped to escape alive. Yet, almost by miracle, they were unharmed; and, after a few moments, the Federalists, having cleared the road of all except this  little party, ceased to fire along it, and directed their aim to another quarter.They took advantage of the lull in the Federal fire, and, with their sad burden, moved carefully along the ditch at the margin of the road. Troops were hurrying to the front, and fearing that the wounded General would be recognized by his men, the party moved farther into the thicket. They soon met General Pender, who recognized Jackson, and expressed his deep sympathy for the sufferer, and added, “My men are thrown into such confusion by this fire that I fear I shall not be able to hold my ground.” Jackson replied instantly in a feeble voice, but with his well-known decision, “General Pender, you must keep your men together, and hold your ground.” This was the last order of Jackson. The party made their way through the tangled brushwood and thickets as well as they could towards the rear. The fire of the enemy re-opened, and in hurrying on the clothes of the wounded man were torn, and even his face lacerated by the stiff twigs and branches. Unfortunately one of the litter-bearers fell, and the General was thrown upon the ground and painfully bruised. He lay upon his mangled arm, from which the blood began to flow freely. When his men lifted him up a groan broke from him — the only complaint in all the terrible scene. Lieutenant Smith, fearing he would die on the spot, said, “General, are you much hurt?” To which he replied, “No, Mr. Smith; don't trouble yourself about me.” After bearing him half a mile farther, most of the way under a shower of shot and shell, they reached an ambulance, in which his chief of artillery, Col. Crutchfield, lay wounded. Dr. McGuire, Jackson's chief surgeon, soon joined them, and proceeded at once to examine the General's wounds. He found him almost pulseless, but the copious bleeding had ceased. Stimulants were freely used; under their influence he revived, and the party moved on to the field hospital near Wilderness Run. To  the anxious questions of his surgeon, the General said that he now felt better, but that several times as they came out of the battle he had felt as though he were about to die. The heroic calmness of Jackson was well displayed when he was struck down by the cruel volley from his own men. To the quick, anxious questions of his friends he replied with great composure, “I believe my arm is broken,” and “It gives me severe pain.” When asked to have his right hand bound up, he said, “No, never mind; it is a trifle.” And yet this right hand that had so often pointed out the path of victory to his men was almost shattered to pieces-two bones of it were broken and a bullet had almost gone through the palm. Without a particle of passion, he said, “All my wounds are by my own men,” and said they were all received at the same moment. He was extremely anxious that his soldiers should not know that he was wounded. He said, “Tell them simply that you have a wounded Confederate officer.” He would have his own name concealed, but no untruth told. As he was led along many of the men asked, “Whom have you there?” and some tried to see his face; Captain Wilbourne kept them off; but one or two of his veterans caught a glimpse of his face, and exclaimed, “Great God! It is General Jackson.” The sad news spread rapidly along the lines; but the men believed his wounds to be slight, and their sorrow only increased their courage. At midnight, in the field hospital, a consultation of surgeons was held, composed of Drs. McGuire, Coleman, Black, and Wall. Long and anxiously they watched the pulse for evidences of reaction; at length it came, and with it hope. The examination showed the necessity for immediate amputation of the left arm. Dr. McGuire explained this to him. and the General replied, “Doctor, do for me whatever you think best; I am resigned to whatever is necessary.” He was placed under  the influence of chloroform, and the mangled arm cut off by Dr. McGuire, and the ball extracted from the right hand. The General seemed insensible to pain, and said dreamily, “Dr. McGuire, I am lying very comfortably.” He then sunk into a quiet sleep, and in half an hour was awaked to receive nourishment. He awoke promptly when called, and took a cup of coffee with relish, saying it was good and refreshing. This was the first nourishment he had taken since Friday evening, and it was now Saturday midnight. When he fell, and his field-glass and haversack were removed, the latter contained no rations, but only a few official papers and two gospel tracts. After taking coffee he conversed freely with the friends around him, and asked particularly whether he had said anything when under the influence of chloroform, and added: “I have always thought it wrong to administer chloroform in cases where there is a probability of immediate death. But it was, I think, the most delightful physical sensation I ever enjoyed. I had enough consciousness to know what was doing; and at one time I thought I heard the most delightful music that ever greeted my ears. I believe it was the sawing of the bone. But I should dislike above all things to enter eternity in such a condition.” His attendants now urged him to suspend conversation and to seek repose in sleep. He ceased talking, and soon fell into a deep and quiet sleep, which lasted until 9 o'clock in the morning. The manner and language of General Lee when he received the news of the wounding of Jackson were characteristic of that great and good man. Captains Hotchkiss and Wilbourne were sent to inform him of the result of the brilliant flank movement and of the fall of Jackson. They found the General lying upon the ground under a thick pine tree. It was before daybreak, but he at once asked them for the news of the battle. They described the battle, and informed him that Jackson was seriously wounded. The General was  greatly moved at this, and after a pause, in which he seemed to be struggling with his emotions, said: “Ah! any victory is dearly bought which deprives us of the services of Jackson, even for a short time.” He then dictated the following note to Jackson:
Our readers know the result of the great battle of Chancellorsville-so nobly begun by Jackson, and so bravely won by the Confederate army. Leaving the field of blood, let us go to the bedside of the wounded General. When he awoke from his long and quiet sleep on Sabbath morning, the sounds of a furious cannonade assured him that the battle was raging, but his pulse did not quicken nor his soul grow restless. When Rev. Mr. Lacy, his chaplain, entered the tent where he lay, he exclaimed: “Oh, General! What a calamity!” Jackson thanked him with his usual courtesy, and added, with an unusual freedom: “You see me severely wounded, but not depressed; not unhappy. I believe it has been done according to God's holy will, and I acquiesce entirely in it. You may think it strange, but you never saw me more perfectly contented than I am to-day; for I am sure that my Heavenly Father designs this affliction for my good. I am perfectly satisfied, that either in this life, or in that which is to come, I shall discover that what is now regarded as a calamity is a blessing. And if it appears a great calamity (as it surely will be a great inconvenience to be deprived of my arm), it will  result in a great blessing. I can wait until God, in his own time, shall make known to me the object he has in thus afflicting me. But why should I not rather rejoice in it as a blessing, and not look on it as a calamity at all? If it were in my power to replace my arm, I would not dare to do it unless I could know it was the will of my Heavenly Father.” He referred to his feelings at the time of his fall, and said he was in possession of perfect peace while expecting death. “It has been,” he said, “a precious experience to me that I was brought face to face with death and found all was well. I then learned an important lesson, that one who has been the subject of converting grace, and is the child of God, can, in the midst of the severest sufferings, fix the thoughts upon God and heavenly things, and derive great comfort and peace; but, that one who had never made his peace with God would be unable to control his mind, under such sufferings, so as to understand properly the way of salvation and repent and believe on Christ. I felt that if I had neglected the salvation of my soul before, it would have been too late then.” Dr. Dabney says these are nearly the exact words used by General Jackson. They made a deep impression on the mind of the minister to whom they were addressed, and he speedily committed them to writing. After this conversation, the General, at the request of his physician, remained quiet for several hours. About midday Captain Douglass came from the field with news of the victory. He communicated to Lieutenant Smith such facts as he thought would interest the General. To the narrative, as repeated to him by Lieutenant Smith, Jackson listened with fixed attention. The part taken in the fight by his old Stonewall Brigade deeply affected him. In the very crisis of the battle General Stuart rode up to them, and, pointing to the work he wished them to do, gave the order: “Charge, and remember Jackson!” They sprang forward at the word,. drove before them three  times their own number, and decided the day. The General listened eagerly, and, trying to repress his tears, said: “It was just like them to do so; just like them. They are a noble body of men.” Smith said: “They have indeed behaved splendidly; but you can easily suppose, General, that it was not without a loss of many valuable men.” Jackson asked quickly: “Have you heard of any one that is killed?” “Yes, sir,” said Smith; “I am very sorry to say they have lost their commander.” He exclaimed: “Paxton? Paxton?” Smith-“Yes, sir; he has fallen.” He said no more; but turned his face to the wall, and seemed to be laboring to suppress his emotion. Some moments after this, Smith remarked that Rev. Mr. Lacy had talked with General Paxton about his religious interests, and believed him to be a converted man. To this Jackson replied: “That's good; that's good.” It is stated by Dr. Dabney, from whose Life of Jackson we are indebted for most of the facts connected with these sad scenes, that after Paxton had placed his brigade in position he spent the few moments that were left him in reading his New Testament, and when ordered forward, he replaced the book in his pocket and exhorted his men to do their duty and to entrust their safety into the hands of the Almighty. The General now directed Lieutenant Smith to write a note which he dictated to General Lee, giving an account of his wounds and congratulating the Commander-in-Chief on the great victory which God had given to his army. To this note General Lee sent the noble reply already given. When the note was read to him he said: “General Lee is very kind; but he should give the glory to God.” In speaking some time after this of the battle, he said: “Our movement yesterday was a great success; I think, the most successful military movement of my life. But I expect to receive far more credit for it than I deserve. Most men will think that I  had planned it all from the first; but it was not so — I simply took advantage of circumstances as they were presented to me in the providence of God. I feel that his hand led me. Let us give him all the glory.” General Lee, thinking the Wilderness exposed to the incursions of the Federal cavalry, sent word that Jackson should be removed as soon as possible to Guinea's Station. On Monday he seemed so much better that Dr. McGuire determined to begin the journey. The road was cleared of obstructions by engineers so as to avoid jolting of the ambulance. The General was bright and cheerful during the twenty-five miles' travel, and just at nightfall the party reached the house of Mr. Chandler, near the station. Hie was placed in bed, and, after taking supper, spent a quiet night. During the journey he spoke freely of the war, and made kind and special reference to the Stonewall Brigade. In reference to a purpose of that noble band to petition the Government to allow them to assume this title as their own, he said: “They are a noble body of patriots; when this war is ended, the survivors will be proud to say, ‘I was a member of the old Stonewall Brigade.’ The Government ought certainly to accede to their request, and authorize them to assume this title; for it was fairly earned.” He then added that “the name Stonewall ought to be attached wholly to the men of the brigade, and not to him; for it was their steadfast heroism which had earned it at first Manassas.” In reply to a question as to the wisdom of General Hooker's plan of battle, he said: “It was, in the main, a good conception, an excellent plan; but he should not have sent away his cavalry.; that was his great blunder. It was that which enabled me to turn him, without his being aware of it, and to take him by his rear.” After a day or two the bright hopes of his recovery began to fade. His pain and restlessness increased. Opiates were administered to quiet his nerves and to induce  sleep. Under their influence his sleep was disturbed by dreams. He was told on Tuesday that Hooker was entrenched near Chancellorsville. He exclaimed: “That is bad-very bad.” Falling asleep soon after, he called out: “Major Pendleton, send in and see if there is not higher ground back of Chancellorsville.” He was again in the smoke and shock of battle. On Thursday Mrs. Jackson reached him, from Richmond. She was deterred from coming earlier by the Federal cavalry which infested the line of the railroad. When she arrived the General was worse, and the physicians were doing all in their power to arrest pneumonia, which had been developed the day before in an alarming form. Rev. Mr. Lacy went to the army to bring the General's family physician, Dr. Morrison. and, while seeking, called on General Lee and informed him of the dangerous condition of his great Lieutenant. The great commander expressed his hope that God would not take Jackson from him at such a time, and added: “Give him my affectionate regards, and tell him to make haste and get well, and come back to me as soon as he can. He has lost his left arm-but I have lost my right arm.” When Jackson was informed that his wife and infant child had arrived, he expressed great pleasure. As Mrs. Jackson came in she saw a sad change in her noble husband. “His features,” says Dr. Dabney, “were shrunken by the prostration of his energies, and were marked by two or three angry scars, where they had been torn as his horse rushed through the brushwood. His cheeks burned with a swarthy and almost livid flush. Yet his face beamed with joy when, awakening from his disturbed slumber, he saw her near him. When he noted the shade of woful apprehension which passed over her face, he said tenderly: ‘Now, Anna, cheer up, and don't wear a long face; you know I love a bright face in a sick room.’ With a spirit as truly courageous as that of her warrior husband she commanded her grief, and addressed  herself cheerfully to the ministry of love. Many a tear was poured out over her unconscious suckling; yet she returned to his sick-room always with a serene countenance; and continued to be, until the clouds of death descended upon his vision, what he had delighted to call her in the hours of prosperity, his ‘Sunshine.’ He now added, with reference to his impaired hearing, that he wished her to speak distinctly while in his room, because he wanted to hear every word she said.” From this time he began to grow rapidly worse, and it became apparent to all that the life of the hero was near its close. When he was spoken to by any one he knew, he roused himself; but generally he lay with closed eyes engaged in silent prayer. On Thursday night Dr. Morrison aroused him to take some medicine, saying: “Will you take this, General?” He looked at him steadily, and said: “Do your duty,” and again repeated: “Do your duty.” His thoughts in delirium wandered off to the field of battle, and he fancied his legions following him to victory. At one time he said, with his quick, sharp battle-tone: “A. P. Hill, prepare for action!” and, with the welfare of his soldiers still in mind, he said several times: “Tell Major Hawks to send forward provisions for the troops.” Friday morning Dr. Morrison expressed to him his fear of a fatal issue of his case. He dissented, and said in these precise words, as Dr. Dabney tells us: “I am not afraid to die; I am willing to abide by the will of my Heavenly Father. But I do not believe that I shall die at this time; I am persuaded the Almighty has yet a work for me to perform.” He asked that Dr. McGuire should be called in, and his case be referred to him. He agreed with Dr. Morrison in opinion. But Jackson was still steadfast in the belief that he would recover. As late as Saturday night, when Dr. Morrison again expressed his fears, he dissented, saying: “I  don't think so; I think I shall be better by morning.” In the midst of his severe sufferings his wife proposed to interest him, and, if possible, to soothe his pains, by reading from the Psalms; he at first said he was in too much pain to attend to them, but a moment after added: “Yes, we must never refuse that; get the Bible and read them.” On Saturday evening he desired to see his chaplain, and inquired of him whether he was engaged in efforts to secure the proper observance of Sabbath in camp-a subject in which he had long been deeply interested. On being assured that he was, he seemed pleased, and conversed at some length on the proper observance of the holy day. As the night came on and deepened, he suffered more intense pain, and called upon his wife to sing some Psalms. She, with the assistance of his friends grouped around his bed, sung several of his favorite pieces. He spent a restless night, tossing in pain upon his bed, and all the relief he felt was from sponging his brow with cold water. Sunday, May 10th, was ushered in — the last day of Jackson's earthly life. He had often said he would prefer to die on the Sabbath. His wish was to be fulfilled. His end seemed so near that Dr. Morrison felt it due to inform Mrs. Jackson of his condition. Mrs. Jackson, knowing that he had often said he would wish to be notified of his approaching end, determined to break the sad tidings to him. He was lying almost in a state of stupor; and, when aroused by his wife, seemed scarcely to comprehend the nature of her announcement. She said several times: “Do you know the doctors say you must very soon be in heaven? Do you not feel willing to acquiesce in God's allotment if he wills you to go today?” He looked up into her face and said: “I prefer it.” Then he repeated, with emphasis: “I prefer it.” She said: “Well, before this day closes you will be with  the blessed Saviour in his glory.” He replied distinctly and deliberately: “I will be an infinite gainer to be translated.” When Colonel Pendleton entered the room the dying General greeted him with his usual courtesy, and asked who was preaching at headquarters. When told that the chaplain was performing that duty he seemed pleased. Mrs. Jackson asked him if he felt the Saviour present with him. To this he answered, “Yes.” She asked him if it was his wish that she and her little daughter should live with her father, Dr. Morrison. He said, “Yes, you have a kind and good father; but no one is so kind and good as your Heavenly Father.” She then asked him where he would prefer to be buried. To this he gave no reply, but when she suggested Lexington he said, “Yes, in Lexington.” His little infant girl was now brought into the room; as soon as he saw her he smiled, and, motioning toward her, said, “Little darling!” She was placed on the bed near him, and he tried to caress her with his wounded hand. He continued to toy with her until he sunk into unconsciousness and the cloud of death settled down upon him. He fell into an unquiet sleep, in which the attendants noticed his efforts to speak; at length he said, “Let us pass over the river and rest under the shade of the trees.” These were the last words of Jackson. His wife, now overcome with grief, bowed down over him; her tears fell fast on his face, and, kissing the cold lips, she exclaimed, “Oh, Doctor, cannot you do something more?” Her voice recalled him to consciousness once more. He opened his eyes, gazed upon her with a look of intelligence and love, and then closed them forever. A few more labored breathings, and the hero was dead. Dr. Dabney relates a touching tribute to Jackson. A little daughter of Mrs. Chandler, whose heart the General had won in former visits to the family, had followed her  mother about the house and noticed that she often wiped the tears from her eyes. At length she asked, “Mamma, will General Jackson die?” She was told that the doctors said they could not save him, and he was going to die. Fixing her eyes on her mother with a most earnest look, she said, “Oh, I wish God would let me die for him, for if I did you would cry for me; but if he dies all the people in the country will cry.” On this Sabbath, while the life of the hero was closing, the usual services were held at the quarters of the staff of his corps. A great congregation assembled. General Lee, and a brilliant array of his most famous officers, came to join in public worship. As the Commander-in-Chief saw General Jackson's chaplain approaching, he met him and anxiously inquired after his wounded friend. He was told there was little or no hope. With great feeling General Lee replied, “Surely General Jackson must recover. God will not take him from us, now that we need him so much. Surely he will be spared to us, in answer to the many prayers which are offered for him.” He added afterwards, “When you return I trust you will find him better. When a suitable occasion offers give him my love, and tell him I wrestled in prayer for him last night as I never prayed, I believe, for myself.” The great man then turned away to hide his emotion. The most fervent prayers were offered by the vast congregation for the recovery of the beloved General, but when Rev. Mr. Lacy returned he found he had passed over the river. The sad event was flashed all over the country, and strong men wept like children as they read the mournful tidings. The body of the hero was borne to Richmond, and placed in the hall of the lower house of Congress in the State Capitol, where thousands gazed on the placid features of the warrior. On Thursday after his death the funeral cortege reached Lexington, and all that was mortal of Jackson was laid to rest in  the beautiful valley in which he had gained so many victories. Our space will not allow us to dwell on the peculiar traits of this singularly great man. One or two illustrative incidents we will give. The following anecdote was given by Rev. Dr. Lacy, in his lecture before the old command of the hero, on the Reminiscences of Jackson:
... I had often heard of that indescribable change of manner and appearance which came over Jackson when the war-bugle summoned him. I therefore watched him well. Soon couriers were seen dashing in every direction to summons out the army. That usual stooping, meek, thoughtful man was no longer before me, but a warrior, his eyes flashing, and through them his great military genius beaming; his form appeared to dilate, he appeared to comprehend all, and soon he was ready; the servant led his horse to the tent, the General went inside. I thought I would speak to him before he went forth. As I approached, the faithful old servant motioned me to stop, be silent — the General was at prayer. I waited sometime; at length the tent was drawn aside, and Jackson stepped forth. Never shall I forget the serene brightness that glowed upon his face. He only remarked, as he bade me good-bye, that “all appears well.” He had held communion with his God, and went forth to victory. This was but an index to his every-day life. During our stay in winter-quarters, from my own tent I could look directly upon his. The table upon which he set his candle was on the opposite side from me, and each night, at his usual bedtime, if I looked, I could see the shadow of that truly great and good man cast upon the wall of the tent as he was bowed in prayer.In a funeral discourse commemorative of Jackson by Rev. Dr. Dabney, the following incident is given:
On the momentous morning of Friday, June 27th, 1862, as the different corps of the patriot army were  moving to their respective posts, to fill parts in the mighty combination of their chief, after Jackson had held his final interview with him; and resumed his march for his position at Cold Harbor, his command was misled, by a misconception of his guides, and seemed about to mingle with and confuse another part of our forces. More than an hour of seemingly precious time was expended in rectifying this mistake; while the booming of cannon in the front told us that the struggle had begun, and made our breasts thrill with an agony of suspense, lest the irreparable hour should be lost by our delay; for we had still many miles to march. When this anxious fear was suggested privately to Jackson, he answered, with a calm and assured countenance, “No; let us trust that the providence of our God will so overrule it that no mischief shall result.” And, verily, no mischief did result. Providence brought us precisely into conjunction with the bodies with which we were to co-operate; the battle was joined at the right juncture; and by the time the stars appeared, the right wing of the enemy, with which he was appointed to deal, was hurled in utter rout across the river. More than once, when sent to bring one of his old fighting brigades into action, I had noticed him sitting motionless upon his horse, with his right hand uplifted, while the war-worn column poured on in stern silence close by his side. At first it did not appear whether it was mere abstraction of thought or a posture to relieve his fatigue. But at Port Republic, I saw it again; and watching him more narrowly, was convinced by his closed eyes and moving lips that he was wrestling in silent prayer. I thought that I could surmise what was then passing through his fervent soul; the sovereignty of that Providence which worketh all things after the counsel of his own will, and giveth the battle not to the strong nor the race to the swift; his own fearful responsibility, and need of that counsel and sound wisdom which God alone  can give; the crisis of his beloved country, and the balance trembling between defeat and victory; the precious lives of his veterans, which the inexorable necessities of war compelled him to jeopardize; the immortal souls passing to their account, perhaps unprepared; the widowhood and orphanage which might result from the orders he had just been compelled to issue. And as his beloved men swept by him to the front, into the storm of shot, doubtless his great heart, as tender as it was resolute, yearned over them in unutterable longings and intercessions, thatThe following beautiful tribute to General Jackson was published in the New York Citizen, and is said to be from the pen of a distinguished officer of the United States Navy:the Almighty would cover them with his feathers, and that his truth might be their shield and buckler. Surely, the moral grandeur of this scene was akin to that when Moses stood upon the Mount of God and lifted up his hands while Israel prevailed against Amelek! And what soldier would not desire to have the shield of such prayers under which to fight? Were they not a more powerful element of success than the artillery or the bayonets of the Stonewall Brigade?
The announcement to the army of the death of Jackson by General Lee contains a fitting tribute by one who, beyond all others, knew his value as a soldier. In tears the veterans read these words from their great leader: