The early spring of 1863 was undoubtedly one of the happiest seasons of a singularly happy life.  Jackson’s ambition, if the desire for such rank that would enable him to put the powers within him to the best use may be so termed, was fully gratified.  The country lad who, one-and-twenty years ago, on his way to West Point, had looked on the green hills of Virginia from the Capitol at Washington, could hardly have anticipated a higher destiny than that which had befallen him.  Over the hearts and wills of thirty thousand magnificent soldiers, the very flower of Southern manhood, his empire was absolute; and such dominion is neither the heritage of princes nor within the reach of wealth.  The most trusted lieutenant of his great commander, the strong right arm with which he had executed his most brilliant enterprises, he shared with him the esteem and admiration not only of the army but of the whole people of the South.  The name he had determined, in his lonely boyhood, to bring back to honour already ranked with those of the Revolutionary heroes.  Even his enemies, for the brave men at the front left rancour to the politicians, were not proof against the attraction of his great achievements.  A friendly intercourse, not always confined to a trade of coffee for tobacco, existed between the outposts; “Johnnies” and “Yanks” often exchanged greetings across the Rappahannock; and it is related that one day when Jackson rode along the river, and the Confederate troops ran together, as was their custom, to greet him with a yell, the Federal pickets, roused by the sudden clamour, crowded to the bank, and shouted across to ask the cause.  “General Stonewall Jackson,” was the proud reply of the grey-coated sentry.  Immediately, to his astonishment, the cry, “Hurrah for Stonewall Jackson!” rang out from the Federal ranks, and the voices of North and South, prophetic of a time to come, mingled in acclamation of a great American.

The situation of the army, although the winter was unusually severe, was not without its compensations.  The country was covered with snow, and storms were frequent; rations were still scarce,* (* On January 23 the daily ration was a quarter of a pound of beef, and one-fifth of a pound of sugar was ordered to be issued in addition, but there was no sugar!  Lee to Davis, O.R. volume 21 page 1110.  In the Valley, during the autumn, the ration had been one and one-eighth pound of flour, and one and a quarter pounds of beef.  On March 27 the ration was eighteen ounces of flour, and four ounces of indifferent bacon, with occasional issues of rice, sugar, or molasses.  Symptoms of scurvy were appearing, and to supply the place of vegetables each regiment was directed to send men daily to gather sassafras buds, wild onions, garlic, etc., etc.  Still “the men are cheerful,” writes Lee, “and I receive no complaints.”  O.R. volume 25 part 2 page 687.  On April 17 the ration had been increased by ten pounds of rice to every