“During the preceding afternoon,” says Major Hotchkiss, “he sent for me to his tent, and asked me to bring maps of the country from Port Republic to Lexington (at the head of the Valley), as he wished to examine them.  I took the map to his tent, and for about half an hour we talked concerning the roads and streams, and points of offence and defence of that region, just as though he had in mind a march in that direction.  After this interval had passed he thanked me and said that that would do.  About half an hour later he sent for me again, and remarked that there had been some fighting down about Richmond, referring, of course, to the battle of Seven Pines, and that he would like to see the map of the field of the operations.  I brought the maps of the district round Richmond, and we spent nearly twice as much time over those, talking about the streams, the roads, the condition of the country, and so forth.  On retiring to my tent I said to myself, “Old Jack” is going to Richmond."* (* Letter to the author.)

Even the faithful Dabney was left in the dark till the troops had reached Mechum’s Station.  There, calling him into a room in the hotel, the general locked the door and explained the object of his march.  But it was under seal of secrecy; and Ewell, the second in command, complained to the chief of the staff that Jackson had gone off by train, leaving him without orders, or even a hint of what was in the wind.  In fact, a few days after the battle of Port Republic, Ewell had sent some of his staff on leave of absence, telling them that large reinforcements were coming up, and that the next move would be “to beat up Banks’ quarters about Strasburg.”

When Jackson was informed of the irritation of his generals he merely smiled, and said, “If I can deceive my own friends I can make certain of deceiving the enemy.”  Nothing shook his faith in Frederick the Great’s maxim, which he was fond of quoting:  “If I thought my coat knew my plans, I would take it off and burn it.”  An anecdote told by one of his brigadiers illustrates his reluctance to say more than necessary.  Previous to the march to Richmond this officer met Jackson riding through Staunton.  “Colonel,” said the general, “have you received the order?” “No, sir.”  “Want you to march.”  “When, sir?” “Now.”  “Which way?” “Get in the cars—­go with Lawton.”  “How must I send my train and the battery?” “By the road.”  “Well, General, I hate to ask questions, but it is impossible to send my waggons off without knowing which road to send them.”  “Oh!”—­laughing—­“send them by the road the others go.”

At last, when they saw how constant fortune was to their reticent leader, his subordinates ceased to complain; but unfortunately there was another source of trouble.  Jackson had no regard whatever for persons.  Reversing the usual procedure, he held that the choleric word of the soldier was rank blasphemy in the captain; the higher the rank of the offender the more severe, in his opinion, should be the punishment.