Search a topic in recent Roanoke history

history@roanoke.com

NED HARRISON specializes in military history. He writes about the Civil War and the involvement of Virginia and Roanoke people in it. If you know the stories of ancestors who were part of the war years, either as soldiers or on the home front, you can write Harrison in care of The News & Record, P. O. Box 20848, Greensboro, N.C. 27420.

The end of 'Stonewall' Jackson

By NED HARRISON

Jackson's death devastated both Gen. Robert E. Lee and the Confederate war effort.

May 1863 saw the high-water mark of the Confederacy, and it was to last for two months. It began with Gen. Robert E. Lee's brilliant victory at Chancellorsville (May 1-5) and ended with the twin defeats at Gettysburg (July 1-3) and at Vicksburg a day later. The war would continue for another two years, but at the end of those two months in 1863, the South no longer had the manpower to win. And between those two peaks must be added possibly an even bigger loss: the death of Gen. Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson from battle wounds followed by pneumonia. "For myself, I felt that our last hope was gone, and it was now only a question of time," said Gen. Josiah Gorgas. "Yesterday, [the Confederacy] rode on the pinnacle of success. Today absolute ruin seems our portion. The Confederacy totters to destruction."

Jackson's death shook the Confederacy to its roots. Nicknamed "Stonewall" for his fortitude at First Manassas on July 21, 1861, he was from then on a symbol of the best in Southern leadership: daring, determined and professional.

Jackson was in the middle of all the fighting at Chancellorsville on the afternoon of May 2, 1863, shouting exultantly to his men, "Press forward. Press right ahead," to encourage them in pursuit of retreating Union soldiers.

When a young officer complained, "They are running too fast for us, we can't keep up," Jackson coldly replied, "They never run too fast for me, sir. Press them, press them."

The moon was full that night, huge through the drifting smoke of battle. Jackson, scouting terrain for attack and pursuit the next day, had ridden forward with a few of his staff. As they rode back, they aroused Confederate pickets who had just repelled a Northern cavalry attack. The pickets opened fire.

"Cease firing, you are firing into your own men," shouted one of Jackson's party. But the officer in charge of the pickets feared a Federal trick: "It's a lie," he shouted. "Pour it into them, boys." And the whole line opened fire. Jackson was wounded twice in the left arm and once in the right hand. He was taken to the rear, and the arm was amputated at the aid station at Wilderness Tavern.

A stunned Lee bemoaned the loss: "He has lost his left arm, but I have lost my right."

Jackson appeared to make a rapid recovery. "I am wounded, but not depressed," he said with good spirit. By May 7, his condition had changed. He was restless, fevered, in pain. Lee said, "God will not take him from us, now that we need him so much." But Jackson's condition worsened, and at times in his delirium, he called out orders to officers on the battlefield. On Sunday, May 10, 1863, doctors told Jackson's wife that the general would not last the day.

When she told him, he said, "It is all right. It is the Lord's Day. My wish is fulfilled. I have always desired to die on Sunday."

The last words he uttered were, "Let us cross the river, and rest in the shade of the trees."

Virginia and the Civil War

Paul H. Cronk of Roanoke sent a long report written by one of his ancestors who was at the Battle of Gettysburg in July 1863. Judith C. Coffman of Salem sent a copy of a report "from my great-great-uncle, Frank Stoke, to his brother." As I read the Coffman letter, I realized that I had read this Stoke report before -- and sure enough, the Cronk and the Coffman reports were the same.

As best they can tell, Paul Cronk and Judith Coffman are third cousins. But the report from their common ancestor is the sort of thing that makes historians drool. It is dated Oct. 26, 1863. Stoke had fought for the Union during the battle, then returned to Gettysburg to tend the wounded who still filled a "hospital ... composed of large tents which cover 80 acres of ground. It is laid off in streets ... which give it the appearance of a city."

His letter continues: "When we first came here, there were 5,000 sick and wounded ... and as high as 17 die each day. It is heart-rending to pass through streets and hear the cries of agony that burden the air ... Those who die in the hospital are buried in a field south of the hospital ... The dead are laid in rows with a rough board placed at the head of each man - they are nearly all Confederates."

Stoke was an eyewitness of the battle. He describes the results of the shooting by thousands of combatants: " ... on the ground occupied by the left wing of our army ... the timber is dead from the effects of the minie-balls. It is impossible to count the balls in any one tree, they seem to be shot into the trees in clusters like wine grapes.

"About 300 yards [away] is a small stream of water called Rock Creek ... the Rebels lost 2,300 men on less than 2 acres of ground. They are buried in holes capable of holding from 25 to 100 men."

And so we return to a place that still haunts this nation. Gettysburg is part of who we are. About 160,000 men fought over those three days. At least 50,000 -- an appalling 31 percent -- were casualties.

My thanks to Paul H. Cronk and Judith C. Coffman for sharing this special bit of Americana with us.