Front:
OLD SORREL
(Stonewall Jackson's Mount)
No greater general ever drew,
A sword from its shield,
Than he who rode you,
Stand on, thou noble steed,
As long as time shall last,
You remind us of his deed,
Upon the battle field.
Way back in the past.
Hold high you noble head,
As you look into the sky.
For though his body may be dead,
You remind us, one and all,
Of our general, strong and true.
His name will never die.
There was no greater than Stonewall
When last he mounted you.
Your comrades on that day,
And on that fatal night,
Were men who wore the gray,
He baffled the army of blue,
Dreaded not their shot and shell,
Into the bloody fight.
His faith was strong and true,
When from your back he fell.
We will keep you through all ages,
Because you served him well,
For all of history's pages,
We recall his ride that night,
Do not your story tell.
And remember the command,
You hear in deep twilight,
F. E. Wright,
Florence, S. C.
The shot that stilled his hand.
Back:
(FIRE WITHOUT HALTING, WAS THE ORDER)
The volley was fired by the 18th N. C.
Infantry when he rode up in front of
the picket line, there were two wounds in
his left arm, one about three inches below
the shoulder-joint, another entered his arm
about an inch below the elbow, came out
on the opposite side, just above the wrist.
A round ball struck the right hand and
lodged under the skin, on the back of his
right hand. (Jackson's last order on the
to the field; you must hold out to the
field.) General Pender, you must hold on
to the field; you must hold ou to the
last. A few moments before he died he
cried out in his delerium, order A. P. Hill
to prepare for action, pass the infantry to
the front rapidly; tell Major Hawks-then
stopped leaving the sentence unfinished.
Presently a smile spread over his pale face
(His last words.)
Let us
over the
river and rest under the shade of the trees.
Dr. Dabney writing of the death - bed
scene and the last words uttered, says:
believing that consciousness had finally de-
parted, ceased to restrain his wife, and she
was permitted to abandon herself to all the
desolation of her grief. But they were
mistaken. Bowing down over him, her eyes
raining tears upon his dying face, and
covering it with kisses, she cried. Oh doc-
tor, cannot you do something more? That
voice had had power to recall him once
more, for
a moment, from the threshold
of heaven's gate; he opened his eyes fully,
and gazing upward at her face, with a long
look of full intelligence and love, closed
them again forever.
L. S. Alfred
cross
RICHMOND,
VIRGINIA
