In these pages, however, it has been made clear that Jackson’s quiet demeanour concealed a vivid imagination, a fertile brain, and an extraordinary capacity for far-reaching combinations.  After he had once made up his mind when and where to strike, it is true that his methods of war were very simple, and his blows those of a sledgehammer.  But simplicity of design and vigour of execution are often marks of the very highest military ability.  “Genius,” says Napier, “is not extravagant; it is ardent, and it conceives great projects; but it knows beforehand how to attain the result, and it uses the simplest means, because its faculties are essentially calculating, industrious, and patient.  It is creative, because its knowledge is vast; it is quick and peremptory, not because it is presumptuous, but because it is well-prepared.”  And Swinton’s verdict would have been approved by few of the soldiers of the Civil War.  It was not the verdict of Lee.  Significant indeed was the cry of the great Confederate, the soul of truth as of generosity, when Jackson was wounded:  “Could I have directed events, I should have chosen, for the good of the country, to have been disabled in your stead.”  It was not the verdict of the Southern people.  “No man,” it was said by one who knew them well, “had so magnificent prospect before him as General Jackson.  Whether he desired it or not, he could not have escaped being Governor of Virginia, and also, in the opinion of competent judges, sooner or later President of the Confederacy."* (* Hon. Francis Lawley, the Times June 11, 1863.) Nor was it the verdict of the foe.  “Stonewall Jackson,” wrote General Howard, commanding the Eleventh Corps at Chancellorsville, “was victorious.  Even his enemies praise him; but, providentially for us, it was the last battle he waged against the American Union.  For, in bold planning, in energy of execution, which he had the power to diffuse, in indefatigable activity and moral ascendency, he stood head and shoulders above his confreres, and after his death General Lee could not replace him."* (* Battles and Leaders volume 3 page 202.)

It can hardly be questioned that, at the time of his death, Jackson was the leader most trusted by the Confederates and most dreaded by the Federals.  His own soldiers, and with them the whole population of the South, believed him capable of any task, invincible except by fate.  It never, indeed, fell to Jackson’s lot to lead a great army or to plan a great campaign.  The operations in the Valley, although decisive in their results, were comparatively insignificant, in respect both of the numbers employed and of the extent of the theatre.  Jackson was not wholly independent.  His was but a secondary role, and he had to weigh at every turn the orders and instructions of his superiors.  His hand was never absolutely free.  His authority did not reach beyond certain limits, and his operations were confined to one locality.  He was never permitted