“What I had seen General lee to be at first—child-like in simplicity and unselfish in his character—he remained, unspoiled by praise and by success.”
He was the same in victory or defeat, always calm and contained. Jackson, having had a short rest, was now moved up to Gordonsville. I rejoined my command and went with him, supplied with new clothes and a fresh stock of health. In a letter to his three daughters who were in North Carolina, dated Richmond, July 18, 1862, he writes describing my condition:
“Rob came out to see me one afternoon. He had been much worn down by his marching and fighting, and had gone to his mamma to get a little rest. He was thin but well, but, not being able to get a clean shirt, has not gone to see Miss Norvell. He has rejoined his company and gone off with General Jackson, as good as new again, I hope, inasmuch as your mother thought, by means of a bath and a profusion of soap, she had cleansed the outward man considerably, and replenished his lost wardrobe.”
From Gordonsville we were moved on to Orange County, and then commenced that series of manoeuvres by the Army of Northern Virginia, beginning with the battle of Cedar Mountain and ending with second Manassas.
When I again saw my father, he rode at the head of Longstreet’s men on the field of Manassas, and we of Jackson’s corps, hard pressed for two days, welcomed him and the divisions which followed him with great cheers. Two rifle-guns from our battery had been detached and sent to join Longstreet’s advance artillery, under General Stephen D. Lee, moving into action on our right. I was “Number 1” at one of these guns. We advanced rapidly, from hill to hill, firing as fast as we could, trying to keep ahead of our gallant comrades, just arrived. As we were ordered to cease firing from the last position we took, and the breathless cannoneers were leaning on their guns, General Lee and staff galloped up, and from this point of vantage scanned the movements of the enemy and of our forces. The general reined in “Traveller” close by my gun, not fifteen feet from me. I looked at them all some few minutes, and then went up and spoke to Captain Mason of the staff, who had not the slightest idea who I was. When he found me out he was greatly amused, and introduced me to several others whom I already knew. My appearance was even less prepossessing that when I had met my father at Cold Harbour, for I had been marching night and day for four days, with no opportunity to wash myself or my clothes; my face and hands were blackened with powder-sweat, and the few garments I had on were ragged and stained with the red soil of that section. When the General, after a moment or two, dropped his glass to his side, and turned to his staff, Captain Mason said:
“General, here is some one who wants to speak to you.”
The General, seeing a much-begrimed artillery-man, sponge-staff in hand, said:
“Well, my many, what can I do for you?” I replied:
“Why, General, don’t you know me?” and he, of course, at once recognised me, and was very much amused at my appearance and most glad to see that I was safe and well.
We, of the ranks, used to have our opinions on all subjects. The armies, their generals, and their manoeuvres were freely discussed. If there was one point on which the entire army was unanimous—I speak of the rank and file—it was that we were not in the least afraid of General Pope, but were perfectly sure of whipping him whenever we could meet him. The passages I quote here from two of General Lee’s letters indicate that this feeling may possibly have extended to our officers. In a letter to my mother, from near Richmond, dated July 28, 1862, he says: