Jackson unashamedly gave credit to God
By Mike Haynes
Professor
Thomas Jackson was an odd man. If, in a social setting, a person used the
figure of speech, “you know,” he would interrupt the speaker to point out that
he didn’t know.
If someone
said they wished the rain would stop, he would reply, “Yes, if the Maker of the
weather thinks it best.”
While
teaching what we would call physics today, he rarely explained concepts to his
Virginia Military Institute students in the 1850s but simply repeated the words
of the textbook, which he had memorized.
Jackson’s
students would walk behind him, mimicking his gait, and draw pictures of his
large boots on the blackboard. He was more effective outdoors teaching
artillery, but cadets still imitated his high-pitched voice and removed
linchpins from a cannon so its wheels would fall off.
Through it
all, the peculiar professor stayed stiff and dignified.
His students
probably didn’t realize that their teacher had shown bravery and decisiveness as
an artillery captain in the Mexican War in the 1840s. But Confederate leaders
remembered when the Civil War began in 1861.
Author S.C.
“Sam” Gwynne examined this soldier-turned-professor-turned-general in his 2014
biography, “Rebel Yell,” the story of the man who became known as Stonewall
Jackson and was admired not only by everyone in the South, but by many in the
North.
Gwynne has
spoken in the Texas Panhandle about his award-winning book, “Empire of the
Summer Moon,” a chronicle of Quanah Parker and the Comanche tribe. In Pampa in
2015, my wife had Gwynne sign a copy of “Rebel Yell” for me. I finally got
around to reading it.
As Jackson’s weather comment hints, he was a
devout Christian who Gwynne says might have become a Presbyterian minister if
his speaking ability hadn’t been so dismal. But while on the VMI faculty and
during his two years as a military commander, his faith was obvious.
Jackson’s skill
in maneuvering troops quickly brought promotions as he helped defend his native
Virginia from what most Southerners perceived as the Northern invaders. He
pushed his infantry to move so fast that they often outflanked the enemy and
showed up to surprise opposing generals.
And always,
Jackson shunned credit, which he unashamedly gave to God. In an era when
President Lincoln claimed divine favor for the Union, Jackson did the same for
the Confederacy. This report to Robert E. Lee before an 1862 battle is typical:
“Through God’s blessing, the
advance, which commenced this evening, has been successful thus far, and I look
to Him for complete success to-morrow.” The next day, Jackson’s forces took
Harper’s Ferry.
With several battlefield victories,
the “Stonewall” nickname became common in northern and southern newspapers. Jackson
avoided reading his accolades. In a letter to his wife, Anna, he wrote:
“Don’t trouble yourself about
representations that are made of your husband. These things are earthly and
transitory. There are real and glorious blessings, I trust, in reserve for us
beyond this life.
“It is best for us to keep our eyes
fixed upon the throne of God and the realities of a more glorious existence
beyond the verge of time.”
He told his brother-in-law, “The
manner in which the press, the army and the people seem to lean upon certain
persons is positively frightful. They are forgetting God in the instruments He
has chosen. It fills me with alarm.” To his pastor, he wrote, “if we fail to
trust in God & give him all the glory, our cause is ruined.”
Several times, Jackson was seen on
the battlefield praying astride his horse, Little Sorrel, or standing near his
troops. His head would bow, and his right hand would rise into the air.
During long periods in camp, he
arranged for chaplains or visiting ministers to preach to the soldiers, often
at his own expense. He and Lee visited church services when possible, but the
shy Jackson found that his fame made that troubling. At the end of a service in
Richmond, the congregation realized Stonewall was in attendance. Amid
excitement, many rushed Jackson’s pew, and his officers had to help him escape
the attention.
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| This stained-glass window honoring Thomas J. “Stonewall” Jackson was installed in Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church in Roanoke, Virginia, in 1905 by the Rev. L.L. Downing, whose parents had attended a Sunday school for enslaved black residents of Lexington, Virginia, established by Jackson. |
Before one military decision, another general commented, “Don’t you know
why Old Jack would not decide at once? He is going to pray over it first!”
Of course, today it isn’t socially
or politically OK to say good things about anyone associated with the
Confederacy. Jackson did own six slaves, and he fought for the side that
defended slavery. Some may not forgive that.
He also, in 1855, had financed a
Sunday school for African Americans, which was against the law. Local leaders
confronted him about it, but Jackson was adamant that the school continue. His
wife said, “His interest in that race was simply because they had souls to
save.”
Up to 100 slaves attended the
Lexington Colored Sabbath School. In 1905, the Rev. L.L. Downing had a stained-glass
window honoring Jackson installed in a black church in Roanoke, Virginia, because
Jackson had taught Downing’s enslaved parents to read, write and love the Bible.
Stonewall Jackson’s brilliant war
career was short. In 1863, he was shot by friendly fire, had his arm amputated
and died of pneumonia at age 39. His personal servant, Jim Lewis, was
devastated, as was much of the South. Author Gwynne said his funeral was the
largest public display of grief in U.S. history to that point.
Thomas Jackson’s last words were
reported as “Let us cross over the river and rest under the shade of the
trees.”
