g succession among
the pines, the quiet figure riding slowly to and fro on the crest
above them; they had heard the stern command, "Wait till they come
within fifty yards and then give them the bayonet," and they had
followed him far in that victorious rush into the receding ranks of
their astonished foe.

Little wonder that these enthusiastic youths, new to the soldier's
trade, should have been captivated by a nature so strong and
fearless. The Stonewall Brigade had made Jackson a hero, and he had
won more from them than their admiration. His incessant watchfulness
for their comfort and well-being; the patient care with which he
instructed them; his courtesy to the youngest private; the tact and
thoughtfulness he showed in all his relations with them, had won
their affection. His very peculiarities endeared him to them. Old
Jack or Stonewall were his nicknames in the lines of his own command,
and stories went round the camp fire of how he had been seen walking
in the woods round Centreville absorbed in prayer, or lifting his
left hand with that peculiar gesture which the men believed was an
appeal to Heaven, but which, in reality, was made to relieve the pain
of his wounded finger. But while they discussed his oddities, not a
man in the brigade but acknowledged his ability, and when the time
came not a man but regretted his departure.

His farewell to his troops was a striking scene. The forest, already
donning its gorgeous autumnal robes, shut in the grassy clearing
where the troops were drawn up. There stood the grey columns of the
five regiments, with the colours, already tattered, waving in the
mild November air. The general rode up, their own general, and not a
sound was heard. Motionless and silent they stood, a veritable stone
wall, whilst his eye ran along the ranks and scanned the familiar
faces. "I am not here to make a speech," he said, "but simply to say
farewell. I first met you at Harper's Ferry, at the commencement of
the war, and I cannot take leave of you without giving expression to
my admiration of your conduct from that day to this, whether on the
march, in the bivouac, or on the bloody plains of Manassas, where you
gained the well-deserved reputation of having decided the fate of
battle.

"Throughout the broad extent of country through which you have
marched, by your respect for the rights and property of citizens, you
have shown that you are soldiers not only to defend, but able and
willing b