officers were the very kind that must be killed. Shoot the brave officers and the cowards will run away and take the men with them.

His temper, though capable of being stirred to profoundest depths, was singularly even. When most provoked he showed no great excitement. When the Secretary of War treated him so discourteously that Jackson resigned his commission, he showed little resentment or indignation. He was the only man in the army who was not mad and excited. Two days after Malvern Hill, when his staff did not get up in the morning as soon as he had ordered them, he quietly ordered his servant, Jim, to pour the coffee into the road, to put the mess-chest back into the wagon and to send the wagon off with the train, and Jim did it; but he showed no temper, and several days after, when I described the ludicrous indignation of one of his staff at missing his breakfast that day, he laughed heartily over the incident, for he often showed a keen sense of humor; and when he laughed (as I often saw him do) he did it with his whole heart. He would catch one knee with both hands, lift it up, throw his body back, open his mouth wide, and his whole face and form would be convulsed with mirth-but there was no sound.

His consideration for his men was very great, and he often visited the hospital with me and spoke some words of encouragement to his wounded soldiers. The day after the fight at Kernstown, as we were preparing to move further up the Valley, as the enemy was threatening to attack us, I said to him, "I have not been able to move all our wounded." He replied, "Very well, I will stay here until you do move them." I have seen him stop while his army was on the march to help a poor simple woman find her son, when she only knew that this son was in "Jackson's company." He first found out the name of her county, then the companies from that county, and by sending couriers to each company he at last found the boy and brought him to his mother. And I can never forget his kindness and gentleness to me when I was in great sorrow and trouble. He came to my tent and spent hours with me, comforting me in his simple, kindly, Christian

way, showing a depth of friendship and affection which can never be forgotten. There is no measuring the intensity with which the very soul of Jackson burned in battle. Out of it he was very gentle. Indeed, as I look back on the two years that I was daily, indeed hourly, with him, his gentleness as a man, his great kindness, his tenderness to those in trouble or affliction-the tenderness indeed of a woman-impress me more than his wonderful prowess as a great warrior.

A short time before the battle of Second Manassas, there came from Lexington to join the "Liberty Hall" Volunteers a fine lad, whose parents lived there and were dear friends of General Jackson. The General asked him to stay at his headquarters before joining his company, and he slept and messed with us. We all became much attached to the young fellow, and Jackson, in his gentle, winning way, did his best to make him feel at home and at his ease, the lad's manners were so gentle, kindly and diffident, and his beardless, blue-eyed, boyish face was so manly and handsome. Just before the battle he reported for duty with his company. The night of the day of the great battle I was telling the General of the wounded as we stood over a fire where Jim, his servant, was making some coffee. I mentioned many of the wounded and their condition, and presently, calling by name the lad we all loved told him he was mortally wounded. Jim-faithful, brave, big-hearted Jim, God bless his memory !rolled on the ground, groaning in his agony of grief; but the General's face was a study. The muscles were twitching convulsively and his eyes were all aglow. He gripped me by the shoulder till it hurt me, and in a fierce, threatening manner, asked why I left the boy. In a few seconds he recovered himself, turned and walked off into the woods alone. He soon came back, however, and I continued my report of the wounded and the dead. We were still sitting by the fire drinking the coffee out of our tin cups when I said, "We have won this battle by the hardest kind of fighting." He answered me very gently and softly, “No, no; we have won it by the blessing of Almighty God."

When General Gregg, of South Carolina, was wounded at Fredericksburg, an interesting incident occurred. General Jackson had had a misunderstanding with Gregg, the nature of which I do not know recall. The night after this gallant gentleman and splendid soldier, was mortally wounded, I told General Jackson, as I generally did of friends or prominent men who had been killed and wounded. General Gregg was one of the most courteous and gallant gentlemen I had ever known. He exposed himself that day in a way that seemed unnecessary, so much so, indeed, that Colonel Pendleton, of Jackson's Staff, rode up to him, and, knowing he was quite deaf, shouted to him that the Yankees were shooting at him. "Yes, sir; thank you," he replied, "they have been doing so all day." When I told General Jackson that Gregg was badly wounded, he said, "I wish you would go back and see him; I want you to see him." I demurred a little, saying it had not been very long since I had seen him, and that there was nothing more to be done for him. He said, "I wish you to go back and see him, and tell him I sent you." So I rode back to the Yerby House, saw General Gregg, and gave him the message. When I left his bedside and had gotten into the hall of the house I met General Jackson, who must have ridden close behind me, to have arrived there so soon. He stopped me, asked about General Gregg and went into the room to see him. No one else was in the room, and what passed between the two officers will never be known. I waited for him and rode back to camp with him. Not a word was spoken on that ride by either of us. After we reached the camp occurred the brief conversation I have quoted as to the horrors of war.

A very remarkable illustration of Jackson's religious liberality was shown just before the battle of Chancellorsville. We had been ordered to send to the rear all surplus baggage, and-to illustrate how rigidly this was done only one tent, and that a small one, was allowed for the headquarters of the corps. It was intended to make the campaign of 1863 a very active one. "We must make this campaign," said Jackson, "an exceedingly active one. Only thus can a weaker country cope with a stronger. It

must make up in activity what it lacks in strength, and a defensive campaign can only be made successful by taking the aggressive at the proper time. Don't wait for the adversary to become fully prepared, but strike him the first blow." When all the tents, among other surplus baggage, were taken away, a Roman Catholic priest, of one of the Louisiana regiments, sent in his resignation because he could not perform the duties of his office without the privacy of a tent. Jackson asked me about Father I told him he was one of the most useful men in time of battle that we had; that I would miss his services very much. He ordered that this Roman Catholic priest should retain his tent, and he was the only man in the corps who had that privilege.

We now approach the close of Jackson's career. Wonderful career! Wonderful in many respects, and to some minds more wonderful in that it took him only two years to make his place in history. Cæsar spent eight years in his first series of victories, and some two years more in filling out the measure of his great reputation. Napoleon, teaching the lesson of indifference to danger to the boys he gathered around him after the fatal Russian campaign, said, “The cannon balls have been flying around our legs for twenty years." Hannibal's career occupied about fifteen years. No other great commander in the world's history has in so short a time won so great a fame as Jackson. Two years, crowded with weighty deeds, now drawn to a close, and Chancellorsville witnesses, perhaps, the most important single incident of his life as a soldier. The whole story has been too often told. Hooker, in command of what was called by the North "the finest army on the planet," crossed the Rappahannock and marched to Chancellorsville. He had 123,000 soldiers; Lee less than 58,000. Notwithstanding this Hooker was frightened by his own temerity in coming within striking distance of Lee and Jackson, and he at once set his whole army to work to throw up intrenchments and make abattis of the most formidable character. Lee and Jackson had to meet the present difficulty without the aid of a large portion

of their army, which was absent with Longsteet. Lee and Jackson! How well I remember their meeting before this battle and their confiding conference! How these two men loved and trusted each other! Where in all history shall we find a parallel to their mutual faith and love and confidence? I can find none. Said Jackson, "Lee is a phenomenon. I would follow him blind-fold." And Lee said to an aide-de-camp of Jackson's, who reported that Hooker had crossed the river, "Go back and tell General Jackson that he knows as well as I what to do." After they arrived in front of Hooker our movements are described in a hitherto unpublished letter of General Lee's. That great commander, after saying that he decided not to attack in front, writes as follows: "I stated to General Jackson, we must attack on our left as soon as practicable," and he adds, "In consequence of a report from General Fitz. Lee, describing the position of the Federal army, and the roads which he held with his cavalry leading to its rear, General Jackson-after some inquiry concerning the roads leading to the Furnace-undertook to throw his command entirely in Hooker's rear, which he accomplished with equal skill and boldness." General Jackson believed the fighting qualities of the Army of Northern Virginia equal to the task of ending the war. During the winter preceding Chancellorsville, in the course of a conversation at Moss Neck, he said: "We must do more than defeat their armies; we must destroy them." He went into this campaign filled with this stern purpose; ready to stretch to the utmost every energy of his genius and push to its limit all his faith in his men in order to destroy a great army of the enemy. I know this was his purpose, for after the battle, when still well enough to talk, he told me that he had intended, after breaking into Hooker's rear, to take and fortify a suitable positon, cutting him off from the river and so hold him, until, between himself and General Lee, the great Federal host should be broken to pieces. He had no fear. It was then that I heard him say, "We sometimes fail to drive them from position; they always fail to drive us."