“Punctual to a minute, I have known him to walk in front of the superintendent’s quarters in a hard rain, because the hour had not quite arrived when it was his duty to present his weekly class reports.
“For ten years, he prosecuted his unwearied labors as a professor, making during this period, in no questionable form, such an impress upon those who from time to time were under his command, that, when the war broke out, the spontaneous sentiment of all cadets and graduates was, to serve under him as their leader.”
An incident is related by General Smith in the same work, which shows clearly how Jackson was looked upon in the community in which he resided:
“He left the Virginia Military Institute on the 21st of April, 1861, in command of the corps of cadets, and reported for duty at Camp Lee, Richmond. Dangers were thickening rapidly around the State. Invasion by overwhelming numbers seemed imminent. Norfolk, Richmond, Alexandria, and Harper’s Ferry were threatened. Officers were needed to command at these points. The Governor of Virginia nominated Major Jackson as a colonel of volunteers. His nomination was immediately and unanimously confirmed by the Council of State, and sent to the Convention then in session. Some prejudice existed in that body from the supposed influence of the Virginia Military Institute in these appointments, and the question was asked by various members, ‘Who is this Thomas J. Jackson’? A member of the Convention from the county of Rockbridge, Hon. S. McDowell Moore, replied: ‘I can tell you who he is. If you put Jackson in command at Norfolk, he will never leave it alive unless you order him to do so.’ Such was the impress made upon his neighbors and friends in his quiet life as a professor at the Military Institute.”
In accepting the position of professor, he was again stepping higher. In active warfare an officer may advance rapidly, but in times of peace he lives quietly at a military post and simply rusts out. Ill-health, brought on mainly by exposure in the Mexican War, caused Major Jackson to resign his commission in the army; but in all probability, had this not been the case he would have abandoned army life, because he felt that by close study and application, he could reach a much higher degree of mental excellence than he had attained; and the position of professor would enable him to do this, for he knew that the best way to learn was to teach.
In consequence of the weakness of his eyes, his great will-power had now to be exerted to the utmost, because he could not use his eyes at night. In order to do himself and his classes justice, each morning after class hours, he would carefully read over the lessons for the next day, and, at night after his simple supper, he would quietly sit with his face to the wall and go over in his mind the lessons read that day. In this way he made them his own, and was prepared to teach the next day. This training was of great use to him in his after life as a soldier. The power of his mind was such that while riding, in later years, at the head of his army, he could study the movements of the foe, and plan his own with as much care and skill as in the quiet of his study at home.
The statement made by General Smith respecting the desire of the cadets to serve under Major Jackson in the war shows how popular he was, and this estimate of his powers could have been produced only by their knowledge of his great worth.
“Old Jack” was the name given to the Major by the cadets, but it was never used derisively. Pranks were played in Major Jackson’s section room by the cadets, but more for their own amusement than for any other purpose. They well knew the consequences if caught, but were willing to run the risk for the sake of fun.
Cadet Abe Fulkerson once wore a collar made out of three fourths of a yard of linen, (for no other purpose than to produce a laugh) and it made even “Old Jack” laugh—that is, smile, which he would not have done if the size, shape, or color of collars had been fixed by the Institute regulations.
Cadet Davidson Penn, with an uncommonly solemn face and apparently in good faith, once asked Major Jackson, “Major, can a cannon be so bent as to make it shoot around a corner?” The Major showed not the slightest sign of impatience or of merriment, but after a moment of apparently sober thought, replied, “Mr. Penn, I reckon hardly.”