of the East.  The parallel ranges of the Alleghanies, with their pathless forests and great canyons, were a formidable barrier to all intercourse.  The West was a world in itself.  The only outlets eastward were the valleys of the Potomac and the James, the one leading to Washington, the other to Richmond; and so seldom were they used that the yeomen of the Ohio uplands were almost as much opposed, both in character and in mode of life, to the planters beyond the Blue Ridge, as the Covenanters of Bothwell Brig to the gentlemen of Dundee’s Life Guards.

Although the sturdy independence and simple habits of the borderers were not affected by contact with wealthier communities, isolation was not in every way a blessing.  Served by throngs of slaves, the great landowners of East Virginia found leisure to cultivate the arts which make life more pleasant.  The rambling houses on the banks of the James, the Rappahannock, and the Potomac, built on the model of English manors, had their libraries and picture-galleries.  A classical academy was the boast of every town, and a university training was considered as essential to the son of a planter as to the heir of an English squire.  A true aristocracy, in habit and in lineage, the gentlemen of Virginia long swayed the councils of the nation, and among them were many who were intimate with the best representatives of European culture.  Beyond the Alleghanies there were no facilities for education; and even had opportunities offered few would have had the leisure to enjoy them.  Labour was scarce, either slave or hired.  The owners of farms were their own managers and overseers, and young men had to serve a practical apprenticeship to lumbering and agriculture.  To this rule, despite his uncle’s wealth, Jackson was no exception.  He had to fight his own battle, to rub shoulders with all sorts and conditions of men, and to hold his own as best he could.

It was a hard school, then, in which he grew to manhood.  But for that very reason it was a good school for the future soldier.  For a man who has to push his own way in the world, more especially if he has to carve it with his sword, a boyhood passed amidst surroundings which boast of no luxury and demand much endurance, is the best probation.  Von Moltke has recorded that the comfortless routine of the Military Academy at Copenhagen inured him to privation, and Jackson learned the great lesson of self-reliance in the rough life of his uncle’s homestead.

The story of his early years is soon told.  As a blue-eyed child, with long fair hair, he was curiously thoughtful and exceedingly affectionate.  His temper was generous and cheerful.  His truthfulness was proverbial, and his little sister found in him the kindest of playmates and the sturdiest of protectors.  He was distinguished, too, for his politeness, although good manners were by no means rare in the rustic West.  The manly courtesy of the true American is no exotic product; nor is the universal deference to woman peculiar to any single class.  The farmer of the backwoods might be ignorant of the conventionalities, but the simplicity and unselfishness which are the root of all good breeding could be learned in West Virginia as readily as in Richmond.