the cause of the liveliest joy in this army as well as in the country.”
There was no doubt now as to Jackson’s standing as a soldier, and he was
admired and loved by his men. This confidence in him is expressed by a
song written by one of his soldiers, which carried them many times into
victory.
He’s in the saddle now! Fall in!
Steady, the whole Brigade!
Hill’s at the Ford, cut off!—we’ll win
His way out, ball and blade!
What matter if our shoes are worn?
What matter if our feet are torn?
Quick step, we’re with him before morn!
That’s Stonewall Jackson’s way.
On June 23, General Lee called to his headquarters for consultation,
Generals A. P. Hill, D. H. Hill and Longstreet of the army before
Richmond. Jackson was there, after fifty miles of continuous riding
during the night. Lee told them of his plan to attack the Federal right
wing, and left the details to them. At the end of the discussion
Longstreet said to Jackson: “As you have the longest march to make and
are likely to meet opposition, you had better fix the time for the
attack to begin.”
Said Jackson: “Daylight of the 26th.”
Longstreet said: “You will encounter Federal cavalry, and roads blocked
by felled timber, if nothing more formidable. Ought you not to give
yourself more time?”
“No, daylight of the 26th,” and Jackson returned to his men. Blunders
and mistakes delayed Jackson.
In two days he was at Ashland. He spent the nights following moving
about his men, giving orders and praying for his success. Daylight of
the 26th did not find him moving, and it was seven o’clock before his
army got under way. The generals waited for him, and finally A. P. Hill
opened his batteries on Mechanicsville “to hurry Stonewall Jackson on.”
The Confederates made an attack on the enemy at Beaver Dam Creek; “but
there was no Jackson to turn the Federal right.” The Confederates
retreated with terrible loss. Night saw Jackson’s approach. At daybreak
the enemy, learning of this, retreated down the Chickahominy toward
Gaines Mill and Cold Harbor. Jackson was after them. The firing of the
heavy guns told him that the fight was getting hotter. Jackson had gone
out of his way, and it was feared that Hill’s command would be shattered
before he could arrive, because Longstreet was held back to join with
Jackson in the attack. Lee sent word to Longstreet that, unless he could
move forward, the day would be lost. At this moment, two of Jackson’s
brigades joined Longstreet. Jackson’s men did not seem to find their
places. They were disorganized. Jackson, calling Captain Pendleton to
him, said: “Go to the line and see all the commanders. Tell them this
thing has hung in suspense too long. Sweep the field with the bayonet.”
McClellan, considering himself defeated, marched southeastward toward
the James River, under the protection of gunboats. A. P. Hill and
Longstreet were sent to head him off. Jackson was to attack the Federal
rear. Hill and Longstreet attacked McClellan at Frayzer’s Farm, but
Jackson was a day behind the battle, and when he reached White Oak
Swamp, the roads were blocked, bridges were burned, and the guns of the
enemy were trained upon the fords. He withdrew, and McClellan retreated
again when the Frayzer’s Farm battle was over.
Meantime people were asking: “What was the matter with Jackson?” His
actions puzzled them. His delays had been costly to the Confederacy. He
seemed to be not the same fighter of old. But, as General D. H. Hill
said, “Jackson’s genius never shone when he was under the command of
another.” He seemed then to be shrouded or paralyzed. The fact was that
he was tired and worn out by the wet swamps; the fever and forced
marches. Lee’s plans having miscarried, he was now forced to attack
McClellan on Malvern Hill. His loss was terrible. When the Federal
general withdrew, they were a little easier at the Confederate capitol.
Pope was now in command of the Federal Army of Virginia. It was one of
the finest armies that ever faced a foe. Lee sent Jackson to fence with
him. Jackson immediately called for reinforcements and rested his horses
and men while awaiting a reply. In August, A. P. Hill came to his aid.
Pope was now on the Rappahannock. When Jackson moved to attack him,
Banks met him with all his strength in the Battle of Cedar Mountain,
August 9. Banks seemed to be winning the battle, for the Confederate
centre was broken, but Jackson’s supports turned the balance the other
way. Jackson wrote to Lee: “On the evening of the 9th inst. God blessed
our armies with another victory.” General Lee now joined Jackson at
Gordonsville. The Federal Army was at Culpepper Court House. Pope took
shelter across the river, and Lee conceived a plan to drive him out.
Stonewall Jackson was selected for this work. On the 25th he began the
move “in his old-time mystery” across the Rappahannock and marched away
from the Federals, turning at right angles in the morning toward the
line of the Federal communication with Washington. He passed
Thoroughfare Gap, and fell on the enemy’s depot of supplies at Manassas
Junction. One of Pope’s despatches, captured the next day, disclosed his
plan to concentrate his forces at Manassas. Acting upon this, Jackson
advanced and met the enemy on the old field of Bull Run. Jackson held
his position in this bloody fight, and when the enemy fell back at
midnight, he was content not to follow him.
Both sides were ready at dawn of day. Longstreet just reached the field
as Pope with his whole army ploughed the Confederate lines. Lee, now
Jackson’s superior, helped win another victory for the South.
The great leader of the Confederate army evidently understood General
Jackson. He gave him something to accomplish, then let him alone. He had
now something of importance in his mind. It was the capture of Harper’s
Ferry. Lee was going to invade the North. The army crossed the Potomac
and entered Frederick City. Stonewall Jackson was riding ahead. They
occupied the city for several days. Meanwhile the Federal forces were
gathering around Washington. The garrison at Harper’s Ferry did not move
and Lee on September 10 sent Jackson to assault it. Four days later the
white flag was raised over it. The men were taken prisoners, and their
arms, ammunition, and supplies came to Jackson’s men. Immediately, he
joined Lee at Sharpsburg; he was wanted, for McClellan was at Antietam
Creek.
[Illustration:
MOST REVEREND JOHN M. FARLEY, D. D., LL. D.,
Archbishop of New York.
]
At midnight of the 16th a part of Jackson’s men again became engaged;
and when “at the dawn of the 17th, Hooker made his terrible attack on
the left of the Confederate battle line, Stonewall Jackson stood in the
way.”
The morning sun of this day looked down on a sight that was awful beyond
conception. In the corn field at the Dunker Church the men fought and
fell, cut down like the corn, in the order in which they were standing.
“It was never my fortune to witness a more dismal battlefield,” Hooker
wrote. “Terrible carnage,” said Jackson, and as he watched the deadly
fire, planned a new attack.
He immediately formed his cavalry to turn the Federal right. “Move your
divisions to the front, and attack the enemy as soon as you hear
Stuart’s guns,” he said. “We’ll drive McClellan into the Potomac.” But
Stuart’s guns were not heard, for the enemy was already on the river.
The Federals next pressed A. P. Hill’s division; but he was helped in
holding possession by the arrival of the remainder of the troops from
Harper’s Ferry. Lee crossed the Potomac, and the final victory was with
McClellan. The forces remained for three months in camp.
Jackson was made a lieutenant-general in October of this year. Lee now
said of him: “Such an executive officer the sun never shone on. I have
but to show him my design, and I know if it can be done, it will be
done.”
In December, when Burnside moved toward Richmond, Lee went out to meet
him. In the battle of Fredericksburg, Jackson commanded the Confederate
right, and resisted every attack. Longstreet held the left in this last
victory for the South, in this campaign.
Jackson’s wife and his child came to visit him at Hamilton’s Crossing.
To Mrs. Jackson he felt disposed to talk of the war. “We must make this
campaign an exceedingly active one,” he said. “Only thus can a weaker
country cope with a stronger. It must make up in activity what it lacks
in strength.”
On April 29, a messenger drew rein at his door. “General Early’s
adjutant wishes to see General Jackson.” Jackson looked out and said:
“That looks as if Hooker were crossing.” He was right. When Jackson’s
aide notified Lee, the latter remarked: “Say to your good general that
he knows what to do. I will join him at the front.” Jackson threw his
army against the enemy, who fell back on Chancellorsville.
The war department at Washington had made up its mind that the only
thing to be done was to march steadily on to Richmond. Hooker faced the
Confederates, determined to smash through their divisions. Lines of
telegraph were at his service, signal stations and captive balloons were
ready for his use. In the green fields behind him was “the finest army
on this planet,” as he himself said. There was no sleep in the
Confederate camp on the night of the first of May. Lee and Jackson
discussed plans of a circuit around Hooker’s right and an attack on his
rear.
“General Jackson,” said Lee, “what do you propose to do?”
“Go around here.” Jackson’s finger moved on the map before them.
“What do you propose to make this movement with?”
“With my whole corps.”
“What will you leave me?” Lee asked.
“The divisions of Anderson and McLaws,” answered Jackson. Lee paused and
then said: “Well, go on.”
Jackson saluted, saying: “My troops will move at once, sir.”
Everything was ready, every order was given, when Jackson looked at his
watch. It was six o’clock in the evening,—“You may go forward, sir.”
This whole Southern force moved like an avalanche on the unsuspecting
Federals, who received a deadly fire from behind.
They ran before the advancing foe. Here and there they took a stand to
resist the attack, then on again. Jackson followed them with his
pounding artillery. “Press right ahead, press them, press them,” cried
Jackson, as he rode by his men.
“You should not expose yourself so much,” said a staff officer as he
grabbed his rein.
“There is no danger, sir,” he replied; “the enemy is routed. Go back and
tell General Hill to press on.” But Hooker appeared before the right of
his men, ordered a stand to be taken, and Jackson was obliged to stop
and collect his scattered troops.
But half a mile now divided the Confederate and Federal lines; Jackson’s
men were scattered in the dark woods, and were running about,
“disorderly as a city mob.” Divisions, brigades, companies, all were
mixed. At nine o’clock the “rising moon lit dimly the broken, shadowed
spaces of the battlefield.” Jackson and his staff were moving quietly
about. He drew rein one hundred yards away and listened. To the North
Carolina brigade, they looked like Federal cavalry. The skirmish line
fired a few shots towards the staff, then a whole company turned a
volley to the front; two officers fell. Jackson struck the spurs to his
horse and advanced toward the lines, when a regiment blazed out upon
him. His horse jumped and started in the direction of the enemy. The
limbs of the trees whipped the face of the rider, and Jackson’s arms
fell to his side. He was lifted from his saddle to the ground, and Hill
bent over him. “General, are you much hurt?” “I think I am,” said
Jackson, “and all the wounds are from my own men.”
The North Carolina soldiers stopped firing, but soon the battle began
again. As Jackson was being removed to the rear, he said: “Tell them
simply that you have a wounded officer.” But, as he passed, a soldier
cried out: “Good God, it is General Jackson!”
When Mrs. Jackson arrived on Sunday morning, May 10, Jackson was very
low. She told him he was going to die. He tossed about during the
afternoon, and his mind began to be cloudy. In a restless sleep he
muttered, “Order A. P. Hill to prepare for action. Pass the infantry to
the front.” It was a little later, when he made his famous saying, “No,
let us pass over the river, and rest under the shade of the trees.” He
spoke no more, but fell into the sleep which knows no waking.
“Could I have dictated events,” wrote General Lee, “I should have
chosen, for the good of the country, to have been disabled in your
stead.”
It seemed strange that Jackson could die, he had survived danger so
long. It was at the closing of his grave on the hill at Lexington that
his deep loss was felt in the whole South. “The man was so much needed.
He had the mark of victory upon him, and his presence in the fight lent
faith to the cause everywhere.” A flower of the South had fallen, never
to rise again.
At a dedication of a Jackson monument sometime afterwards in New
Orleans, Father Hubert prayed, “God, when thou did’st decree that the
Confederacy should not succeed, thou had’st first to take thy servant,
Stonewall Jackson.”
Such was the brief career of a poor orphan boy,—of a Christian and
patriotic soldier,—of a descendant of an Irish immigrant, “who achieved
the last and greatest of his successes in dying for his country. He
perished doubly a martyr, and in his last breath attested the
righteousness of the cause which he sealed with his blood.”
SOME IRISH CONTRIBUTIONS TO EARLY AMERICAN HISTORY.
_Paper read before the American Irish Historical Society, January 8,
1910, at its twelfth annual meeting at Hotel Plaza, New York City._
BY MICHAEL XAVIER SULLIVAN, PH. D.
When in the course of time a new nation has become firmly established
and has taken its place among the powers of the world and leisure is
afforded men to look back to the early days of their country in an
historical way so dear to man’s heart, it is pleasing to the student to
find that the race from which he springs has played a prominent part
even in the early days of his nation.
It is in such a spirit of pleasure that we find ourselves convinced on
making but a preliminary survey of our early history that in the
foundation, the creating, the strengthening, and maintenance, of this
great republic, the Irish race from which you and I spring has done its
duty and has done it well.
In speaking of the part the Irish race has played in this great land I
do not intend to indulge in self gratification, nor to give the Irish
greater praise than they deserve nor to take from others in extolling
those in whom ran the blood that runs in you and me. Every race that
played its part in creating the American nation should be given its meed
of praise, but in loving our land for what it has been to us and for
what it has inspired, we are but the greater patriots in giving just
praise to that race from which we spring for its noble duty in the cause
of justice and of freedom.
The present paper does not purport to be a detailed study but merely
touches on the high points of the Irish contributions to early American
history.
In February, 1903, Miss Linehan[5] read a paper before the Connecticut
Historical Society. This paper contains an excellent account of the
earliest immigration of Irish to this country. From her paper may be
quoted:
“The early Irish came to this country in three distinct periods, the
first dating from 1621 to 1653, the second from 1653 to 1718, and the
third from the latter period to the Revolution.”
It is with the third period that we shall deal for the most part.
In 1737, according to Rev. J. A. Spencer,[6] “multitudes of laborers and
husbandmen in Ireland unable to procure a comfortable subsistence for
their families in their native land embarked for Carolina. The same
writer again, Vol. 1, p. 214, speaking of New Hampshire in 1738, says:
“the manufacture of linen was considerably increased by the coming of
the Irish Immigrant to this colony.”
“During the whole period of her controversy with Britain,” says Mr.
Grahame,[7] “America increased in strength from domestic growth and from
the flow of European emigration. No complete memorial has been
transmitted of the particulars of the emigration that took place from
Europe to America at this period, but (from the few illustrative facts
that are actually preserved) they seem to have been amazingly copious.
In the year 1771 to 1772 the number of immigrants to America from the
north of Ireland alone amount to 17,350, almost all of whom emigrated at
their own charge, a great majority consisting of persons employed in the
linen manufacture or farmers and possessed of some property which they
converted into money and carried with them. Within the first fortnight
of August, 1773, there arrived at Philadelphia three thousand five
hundred emigrants from Ireland. About seven hundred Irish settlers
repaired to the Carolinas in the autumn of 1773.”
Pennsylvania very early had a large Irish colony. In 1699 James Logan
accompanied William Penn to his new plantation and became one of the
leading men. According to Spencer, Vol. 1, page 186, he was many years
colonial secretary and member of the Council. He governed the Colony for
two years after the death of Penn’s widow and previously in Penn’s
absence. Charles Gookin, a gentleman of ancient Irish family, was
governor of Pennsylvania from 1709 to 1716.
According to Grahame, Vol. II., page 84, “In 1729 no fewer than six
thousand two hundred and eight European settlers resorted to this
Province.” They are thus particularized by Anderson in his Historical
Deductions of the Origin of Commerce; English and Welsh passengers and
servants, 267; Scotch servants, 43; Irish passengers, 1,155; Palatine
passengers, 243. At Newcastle, in Delaware, passengers and servants,
chiefly from Ireland, 4,500.
The colony of Maryland was founded in 1634[8] by Cecilius Calvert, with
Leonard Calvert as first Governor. Foremost among the Irish families
early in Maryland were the Carrolls, all of whom threw their influence
on the side of independence and at least three of whom played
particularly distinguished parts in the subsequent conflict. The first
of them to come to Maryland was Charles Carroll, who was a clerk in the
office of Lord Powis in the reign of James the Second and who left
Ireland on the accession of William and Mary in 1689. Before he was two
years in Maryland he was appointed Judge and register of the land office
and receiver of the rent of Lord Baltimore. His son, Charles Carroll,
was one of the most prominent men in the colony, whose son, Charles, was
a signer of the Declaration of Independence. Charles, the signer’s
cousin, John Carroll, a priest of God, was sent with Franklin, Charles
Carroll and Samuel Chase in 1776 to secure the coöperation of the French
Catholics with the American cause. After the war, Father Carroll became
Bishop and Archbishop. Daniel Carroll, cousin of both Charles and John,
was one of the foremost members of the first Congress. He was a member
of the Continental Congress for four years and a delegate to the
convention that framed the Constitution of the United States. His farm
formed a part of the site of the present City of Washington. Associated
with him in Congress was Thomas Johnson, whose grandfather, also Thomas
Johnson, came from Ireland in 1689 with Charles Carroll, the founder of
the Carroll family in Maryland. He was three times Governor of Maryland,
Chief Judge of the General Court of Maryland and Justice of the United
States Supreme Court.
In regard to South Carolina[9] Ramsay says, Vol. I., page 20, “Of all
other countries none has furnished the province with so many inhabitants
as Ireland. Scarcely a ship sailed from any of the ports that was not
crowded with men, women and children.” Among the prominent men of Irish
origin were the Moores, Rutledges, Jacksons, Lynches, Polks, Calhouns,
who distinguished themselves as patriots and statesmen.
Speaking of Kentucky, H. Marshall[10] says: “John Finley explored
Kentucky in 1767 and circulated accounts and descriptions which Boone
authenticated and enlarged.” Finley was the pilot of Boone in 1769. No
permanent settlements were made in Kentucky till 1775. According to
Marshall, page 13, in this year, a few permanent settlements were made,
particularly at Harrodsburg and at Logan’s Camp, later called St.
Asaphs, and at Boonesborough, named after Boone, the leader of the first
colony to the bank of the Kentucky River.
Associated with Boone in his hazardous labors we find Michael Stoner.
Logan, after whom the Camp was named, was of Irish parents, and was
among the earliest settlers of Kentucky. He was a man of prominence. On
page 42, Marshall says: “The names of Mrs. Denton and Mrs. McGary and
Mrs. Hogan are worthy of mention, they being the first white females who
appeared with their husbands and children at Harrodsburg.” Speaking of
Mr. McGary he says: “For enterprise and daring courage none transcended
Major Hugh McGary.” Others were Butler, McLellan and Hogan, all
Irishmen, pioneers and among the first to explore the country beyond the
Ohio. In the wars with Indians, Butler, Bulger and Logan were especially
prominent.
The Massachusetts Bay Colony legislated against the Irish of all creeds
and in 1720 ordered them out. “As early as 1632,” however, as may be
read in Haltigan’s “The Irish in the American Revolution,” we find
mention of Irish in Boston. In an old legal document of that year an
Irishman named Coogan is described as the first merchant of Boston. Miss
Linehan, previously referred to, says: “In 1718 a petition was sent to
Governor Shute of Massachusetts by three hundred and twenty leading
Irishmen, among whom were ministers, asking permission to settle in the
State. The same year one hundred and twenty Irish families arrived in
Boston and brought with them the manufacturing industry of linen and
also introduced the use of potatoes. There was not a town incorporated
from that time on but what contained the descendants of those men or of
those who followed them directly.”
“In 1730 the First Presbyterian Irish Church was founded in Boston.”
The Boston Irish Charitable Society was founded in 1737 on St. Patrick’s
Day.
James Sullivan, son of Owen Sullivan, the emigrant from Limerick and
brother of General Sullivan, represented Massachusetts in Congress in
1788 and was later Attorney General and Governor of Massachusetts.
That the Irish were fairly plentiful in Boston in pre-revolutionary days
is well brought out by Cullen.[11] He found that among the earliest
records there appeared such distinctly Irish names as Cogan, Barry,
Connors, McCarty, and Kelly.
In the register of births, marriages and deaths in Boston from 1630 to
1700 there was, according to Cullen, over two hundred entries of names
distinctly Irish and probably many others just as certainly Irish, but
not so entered. Under Cromwell’s government many Irish people were sent
to New England. In 1654 the ship “Goodfellow,” Captain George Dell,
arrived in Boston with a large number of Irish immigrants that were sold
into service to such of the inhabitants as needed them. This service was
only temporary, to pay for the expense of transportation.
During the two years, 1736–38, ten ships are on record as coming to
Boston from Ireland with a total of nearly one thousand passengers.
On the rolls of Bunker Hill are very many purely Irish names.
“In New Hampshire,” writes John C. Linehan,[12] “as early as 1631,
according to military records, the first representative of the Emerald
Isle made his appearance in the person of Darby Field, an Irish
Soldier.” According to the same writer, in Vol. I., “Provincial Papers,”
1641 to 1660, are found such names as Duggan, Dermott, Gibbon, Vaughan,
Neal, Patrick, Buckley, Kane, Kelly, Brian, Healey, Connor, MacMurphy,
Malone, Murphy, Corbett, McClary, McMillen, Pendergast, Keily, McGowan,
McGinnis, Sullivan and Toole. Later records show that the Irish were
very numerous in the early days in New Hampshire, even long before the
settlement of Londonderry.
Londonderry, New Hampshire, was settled by Irish Presbyterians in 1719.
Few settlements were more prosperous. In the process of time, according
to Barstow, in his “History of New Hampshire,” page 130 (1853), the
descendants of the Londonderry settlers spread over New Hampshire and
Vermont.