"...Under the Shade of the Trees"

By Sam Burnham

The title "General" has a way of stirring up extravagant mental images. Paintings of Napoleon, garments flowing in the breeze as he points the way to glory. George Washington remaining dignified, even in the humility of his Valley Forge prayer. Eisenhower, reviewing the troops as the prepared for D-Day.

And then there's General Jackson.

His mama named him Thomas Jonathan but destiny named him "Stonewall". Dressed in his tattered blue US issue jacket and sitting on a horse that most agreed was at least a bit too small, he was hardly the visual stirred by his title.. His VMI cadets believed him to be eccentric, if not insane. This was due to quirky behavior such as his belief that black pepper caused him to suffer leg pain. He also thought one arm to be longer than the other and held "the longer one" above his head to balance his circulation. There are modern mental health professionals that hypothesize that Jackson suffered from Aspergers Syndrome.

Despite his ailments and peculiarities he was riding an impressive string of victories when he was cut down by friendly fire while returning to camp from a scouting excursion. It seems his trademark blue coat might have been his undoing. Many historians, including myself, believe this to be the turning point in the war. The North couldn't stop him and the South was never the same without him.

But besides the war, besides the general, Jackson was a man. His love for his wife is evident in letters that survive to this day. His young daughter likely held few, if any, memories of her father,having losst him so young. He was revered by the slaves and free blacks that he dedicated his talent and his treasure to educate. His men grew to love him and he achieved legend status even before his death.

He was a man of devout faith and devotion to his home state who loved his family and led his armies well.

On May 10, 1863, after suffering pneumonia following his wounding, he made the suggestion "Let us cross over the river, and rest under the shade of the trees." And then he did exactly that.

Lieutenant General Thomas Jonathan "Stonewall" Jackson, forever 39 years-old, might not have held the same image as a painting of Napoleon but no one can deny he left an indelible mark on the South. His legend still stands like a stone wall , devouring lemons and holding that long arm high, keeping his circulation even while he himself pumps the life blood of Dixie.

Thomas Jonathan "Stonewall" Jackson,

January 21, 1824 - May 10, 1863