own volition, built a log church, where both officers and men, without distinction of rank, were accustomed to assemble during the winter evenings; and those rude walls, illuminated by pine torches cut from the neighbouring forest, witnessed such scenes as filled Jackson’s cup of content to overflowing.  A chaplain writes:  “The devout listener, dressed in simple grey, ornamented only with three stars, which any Confederate colonel was entitled to wear, is our great commander, Robert Edward Lee.  That dashing-looking cavalry-man, with ‘fighting jacket,’ plumed hat, jingling spurs, and gay decorations, but solemn, devout aspect during the service, is ‘Jeb’ Stuart, the flower of cavaliers—­and all through the vast crowd wreaths and stars of rank mingle with the bars of the subordinate officers and the rough garb of the private soldier.  But perhaps the most supremely happy of the gathered thousands is Stonewall Jackson.”  “One could not,” says another, “sit in that pulpit and meet the concentrated gaze of those men without deep emotion.  I remembered that they were the veterans of many a bloody field.  The eyes which looked into mine, waiting for the Gospel of peace, had looked steadfastly upon whatever is terrible in war.  Their earnestness of aspect constantly impressed me...They looked as if they had come on business, and very important business, and the preacher could scarcely do otherwise than feel that he, too, had business of moment there!

At this time, largely owing to Jackson’s exertions, chaplains were appointed to regiments and brigades, and ministers from all parts of the country were invited to visit the camps.  The Chaplains’ Association, which did a good work in the army, was established at his suggestion, and although he steadfastly declined to attend its meetings, deeming them outside his functions, nothing was neglected, so far as lay within his power, that might forward the moral welfare of the troops.

But at the same time their military efficiency and material comforts received his constant attention.  Discipline was made stricter, indolent and careless officers were summarily dismissed, and the divisions were drilled at every favourable opportunity.  Headquarters had been transferred to a tent near to Hamilton’s Crossing, the general remarking, “It is rather a relief to get where there will be less comfort than in a room, as I hope thereby persons will be prevented from encroaching so much upon my time.”  On his wife’s arrival he moved to Mr. Yerby’s plantation, near Hamilton’s Crossing, but “he did not permit,” she writes, “the presence of his family to interfere in any way with his military duties.  The greater part of each day he spent at his headquarters, but returned as early as he could get off from his labours, and devoted all his leisure time to ha visitors—­little Julia having his chief attention and his care.  His devotion to his child was remarked upon by all who beheld the happy pair together, for she soon learned to delight in his caresses as much as he loved to play with her.  An officer’s wife, who saw him often during this time, wrote to a friend in Richmond that “the general spent all his leisure time in playing with the baby."”