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Henderson, G. F. R., 1854-1903

"Stonewall Jackson and the American Civil War"

No one did, however, so,
although a somewhat bashful and weak-kneed youngster, I plucked up
courage enough to venture to remark that those big guns over the
river had been knocking us about pretty considerably during the day.
He quickly turned his head, and I knew in an instant who it was
before me. The clear-cut, chiselled features; the thin, compressed
and determined lips; the calm, steadfast eye; the countenance to
command respect, and in time of war to give the soldier that
confidence he so much craves from a superior officer, were all there.
He turned his head quickly, and looking me all over, rode up the line
and away as quickly and silently as he came, his little courier hard
upon his heels; and this was my first sight of Stonewall Jackson."
From his own lines Jackson passed along the front, drawing the fire
of the Federal skirmishers, who were creeping forward, and proceeded
to the centre of the position, where, on the eminence which has since
borne the name of Lee's Hill, the Commander-in-Chief, surrounded by
his generals, was giving his last instructions. It was past nine
o'clock. The sun, shining out with almost September warmth, was
drawing up the mist which hid the opposing armies; and as the dense
white folds dissolved and rolled sway, the Confederates saw the broad
plain beneath them dark with more than 80,000 foes.


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