PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS OF "STONEWALL” JOHN G. GITTINGS. JACKSON. MAJOR JOHN G. GITTINGS. Late Adjutant 31st Virginia Infantry and Major Confederate Cavalry. M AJOR Thomas Jonathan Jackson was a professor at the Virginia Military Institute, at Lexington, Virginia, when the writer, a cadet, first met him in the year 1852. A relative of Jackson and coming from his native town, the writer bore a letter of introduction to him, which letter, however, was not presented, for this young recruit, a boy of sixteen, had met with such a warm reception from the older cadets on his arrival, and was, withal, so depressed by the rigid discipline of the school, that he feared to face this professor, whom he looked upon even then as a hero, one who had received the "baptism of fire" in Mexico, and was "the only officer promoted the only officer promoted twice in one day"-as he had been informed by the village chronicler, who thus dilated on the achievements of Jackson in the war against the Mexicans. One evening the sergeant of the guard came with the order that I should report to the quarters of Major Jackson without delay. On receiving this order, my first thought was that I had violated some one of the innumerable mili tary rules and was about to be called to an account therefor; so it was with some trepidation that I went to the major's quarters. However, he met me with a smile and greeting that somewhat relieved my anxiety, but it did not put me entirely at ease, as I still felt some awe in the presence of this military officer in full uniform, whom I had been told was a stern and rigid disciplinarian. The major took my cap, placed it carefully on the table, then made me take the best chair in the room, after which he took a seat himself and, with apparently a labored effort, tried to make things pleasant. Though entertaining, he appeared ill at ease, and this, I noticed afterward, was characteristic of him when conversing in the presence of strangers. This was my first interview with "Stonewall" Jackson. He was then about twentyeight years of age, six feet tall, with gray-blue eyes, a well-chiseled Roman nose, and a very fair and ruddy countenance. He wore side whiskers, and one noting his very fair complexion and reserved manner might have mistaken him for an Englishman, but here the resemblance ceased, for in thought and expression this quiet, unaffected man was all American. As I sat in his presence and observed his diffidence, this thought passed through my mind: Can this modest man be the one who fought so bravely in Mexico and who stood by his cannon after all his men had been killed or driven away? It was not until my second year at the Military Academy that I came to recite in the classes taught by Major Jackson; but in the meanwhile I was under his instruction at artillery practice, which consisted principally, as far as the "plebes" were concerned, in drawing the pieces and caissons. This was for the first year only; the second year the new cadets were promoted to the position of cannoneers. At the artillery practice we soon learned that Major Jackson was a very strict and exacting officer. He expected every man to do his duty -and every horse, too. One day on the parade ground a fellow "plebe" managed, in some way, to draw out a linchpin from a wheel of the 66 and, as the fates would have it, rolled directly toward Old Jack," who was looking in an opposite direction. He turned his head in time to see its approach, and although it passed within a few inches of his person, he did not budge from his tracks. A cadet remarked: "He would not have moved if it had been a cannon-ball going right through him!" But we soon observed that his gaze was fixed intently on our battery in a way that made us feel very uncomfortable, and in a brief space we were placed under arrestofficers, cannoneers, horses, and all; and as a result this breach of discipline was settled in a way that did not invite any repetition of the offence. Professor Jackson was an able instructor of artillery tactics, but in the regular collegiate course he did not appear to have any he was always a conscientious, laborious instructor. It was the custom at the Military School to fire salutes of artillery on the Fourth of July and Washington's birthday. In honor of such occasions Major Jackson would always don his best uniform and wear his finest sword, a very handsome one, which the cadets said had been presented to him by the ladies of New Orleans at the close of the Mexican War. In the gray dawn of the morning he would come marching on the parade-ground, with his fine sabre tucked well up under his left arm. He had the long stride peculiar to the dismounted cavalryman, and on such occasions his manner would be brisk, if not cheery, for he took special pride in these celebrations and was very punctilious in all their observances. Major Jackson married a daughter of Doctor Junkin, president of Washington College, during the second year of my stay at Lexington. He then took up his residence in the town. Before his removal from the barracks, however, an incident occurred which will go to show the estimate in which he was held, even by the most intractable characters. A number of cadets who were about to be dismissed, through incompetency in their studies or for excess of demeritmarks, while on a Christmas frolic made a raid on the professors' rooms in the barracks and literally despoiled them. Major Jackson's room alone was left intact. It is difficult to determine why these young vandals should have respected his quarters when they seemed to respect nothing special genius for teaching; yet HOUSE WHERE STONEWALL" JACKSON WAS BORN.-CLARKSBURG. W. VA. BULL RUN-GENERAL JACKSON'S POSITION, NORTH OF WARRENTON PIKE. else. Some suggested that, as cadets, they respected his military fame won in the battles of Mexico. It is a notable fact that even at that time the cadets had an abiding faith in Jackson as a military man, and perhaps very few of them were ever afterwards much surprised at his great achievements in war. embarrassment, but such was his regard for truth that he would not depart from it, even in jest, without immediately correcting his state He was one of the most scrupulously truthful men that ever lived, and even carried his exactitude of expression and performance to extremes in small matters. On one occasion he borrowed the key of a library of one of the literary societies, and promised the secretary to return it within an hour. However, becoming absorbed in his book, he put the key into his pocket and did not think of it again until he had reached his boarding-place in the town, nearly a mile away. Then, although a hard storm had sprung up in the meantime, he turned about and marched all the way back through the rain to deliver the key as he had promised, though he knew the library would not be used, and the key would not be needed on that day. In conversation, if he ever happened to make an ironical remark, even if it were so plainly ironical that none could misapprehend it, yet would he invariably qualify his expression by saying: "Not meaning exactly what I say." This peculiarity of speech became almost a byword with the cadets, and subjected him to much ment. He belonged to a literary society in Lexington which embraced in its membership many men of learning and ability. It was the custom of the society to hold a series of public lectures during the winter season. This was one of the few entertainments the cadets were permitted to attend, and when Major Jackson's turn came to lecture there was considerable interest evinced by them in anticipating the subject of his lecture and the manner in which he would acquit himself. When he appeared on the lecture-platform he was embarrassed, it is true, and his lecture lacked in oratorical effect; yet it was said at the time to have been one of the best of the whole course, and was very entertaining. The subject of his discourse was "Acoustics," and he discussed very effectively all that was then known about the properties of sound. He said it was "an undeveloped science," and that no doubt in the near future progress would be made in it, and discoveries, especially in the "transmission of sound." This prediction has since been verified in the perfecting of the telephone. It must be admitted that Major Jackson was regarded by the cadets and others as an eccentric man. His health had been impaired by his "STONEWALL" JACKSON-1862. service in Mexico, and he always seemed to be more or less sensitive and ill at ease in his intercourse with strangers. Speaking from a social standpoint, no man ever had a more delicate regard for the feelings of others than he, and nothing would embarrass him more than any contretemps that might occur to cause pain or distress of mind to others. Hence he was truly a polite man, and while his manner was often constrained, and even awkward, yet he would usually make a favorable impression, through his evident desire to please. However, before he became famous in war he was generally underrated by his casual acquaintances, for in such society he was a taciturn man, and would listen in silence, while others discoursed at length upon subjects in which he was himself well versed. He would thus create a false impression of his own acquirements, which were very considerable outside of collegiate learning, and embraced a wide knowledge of men and things. About the second year of my stay at the Virginia Military Institute, Major Jackson was suffering from weak eyes, and he would not read by artificial light. So, when near one of the examinations, our class had prevailed on him to give us a review of a difficult study, he was compelled to hear us after dark, the only time he had to spare for the purpose. We used to meet in the "section room," in the dark. Professor Jackson sat in front of us on his platform and, with closed eyes, questioned us over many pages of a complicated study. This work required a strong effort of memory and concentration of thought, and no doubt it was just such exercise that fitted him for his duties in the field-in holding in his mental grasp the countless details that perplex the mind of a commander of armies. It was one of the marked characteristics of Major Jackson that he always inspired confidence in those who knew him intimately. The cadets believed in him as a religious man, although he would sit placidly and sleep through a greater part of the long and tedious sermons of the Presbyterian divine, in whose church he was an elder! They knew that he slept because of physical weakness, and that insincerity was not a part of his nature. Governor Letcher, who had been familiar with him for a number of years, appointed him to a colonelcy at the beginning of the war, and he never had a doubt of Jackson's capacity to fill any rank in the army, however great. Major Jackson had the great misfortune to lose his wife the second year of his marriage. The Rev. Dr. White, an aged minister of the Presbyterian church, officiated at the funeral, to which the cadets marched as a guard of honor. After the services were over at the grave, and the attendants had all left the grounds except the cadets, who were forming their ranks at a distance, it was noticed that Jackson was standing alone, with uncovered head, by the open grave, as one distraught. The venerable minister, who was a lame man, was compelled to hobble all the way back from the gate, and lead him away, as he would heed none other. It is not the purpose of this narrative to record General Jackson's military achievements, but to recount briefly a few personal incidents. of which the writer was an eye-witness and from which he formed impressions of this grand historic character. Soon after the outbreak of war, the writer was ordered to Harper's Ferry to see General Jackson on military business, and appeared at his office about daybreak on a morning in May. This was his regular office hour for receiving the reports of his subordinate officers; and after hearing the reports of the officer of the day, officer of the guard, scouts, and others, he would despatch business in a very prompt and energetic way. He knew exactly what ought to be done, and how it should be done. There was no wavering in opinion, no doubts or misgivings; his orders were clear and decisive. It occurred to me at the time that Jackson was much more in his element here as an army officer than when in the professor's chair at Lexington. It seemed that the sights and sounds of war had aroused his energies; his manner had become brusque and imperative; his face was bronzed from exposure; his beard was now of no formal style, but was worn unshorn. As the war progressed and his fame grew apace, whenever he would appear riding along the lines of infantry, on his chestnut-sorrel horse, clad in his old, faded uniform, the loud cheers of his soldiers would follow him for miles along the dusty roads. He was a good rider, but not a very graceful one, except on the occasions mentioned, when the soldiers were cheering They paid little heed to any other officer or soldier of the passing column. The old man "only wanted to see Jackson once before he died," and the young ladies were "just crazy to see him!" Soon thereafter, a post-quartermaster rode by; his bright uniform presented a striking contrast to the dust-begrimed regimentals of the officers of the column; and the young ladies were sure this fine-looking soldier must be the great "Stonewall," the hero of their imaginations. Finally, when General Jackson did appear on the scene, it was difficult to make these ladies believe that the travel-stained horseman, with his faded cap drawn low over his sunburned, bearded HOUSE IN WHICH GENERAL JACKSON DIED-GUINEA STATION, VIRGINIA. him; then he would straighten himself in the saddle, and ride erect, with uncovered head and at a rapid pace, as if to escape this ovation of his troops. On one occasion during the Valley campaign, as our troops debouched from a narrow crossroad into the turnpike, we saw a carriage drawn up by the wayside, in which were seated an elderly gentleman and three young ladies. As we rode by the old gentleman halted us and inquired anxiously for General Jackson. It at first occurred to us that he had news of importance to communicate to the general, but the young ladies soon made it apparent that their only object in being there was to look upon this now famous officer, whom they had never seen. face, was the famous "Stonewall" whose name had wrought so great a spell in that valley. On the day of Malvern Hill I saw "Stonewall" Jackson in the thick of the fight and under circumstances that moved the very depths of his nature. The sun was sinking toward the western sky when our wearied troops emerged from the pine woods, which were being torn and riven by shot and shell. We stood there obscured from our formidable adversary only by the black cloud of sulphurous smoke that overhung the bloody field like a pall shrouding the windrows of the slain. McClellan's grand army, 90,000 strong, confronted us on those heights, which bristled with 300 field-pieces and great siegeguns, reinforced by the monster cannon of the |