Perhaps the confidence of his superiors and his subordinates was at high-water mark in the autumn of 1862, when on his way to take position on the right wing of General Lee's army at Fredericksburg he led his corps through the gloomy shades of the "Wilderness," over the very ground and within twenty steps of the spot where, on the night of the 2d of May, he was to close his splendid career.
And yet even then the question was frequently asked, could he, if in supreme command, handle a large army as General Lee or even General Longstreet could. The writer does not believe that this failure of perfect confidence, the confidence, for instance, felt in General Lee, in Jackson's ability to fill any position which fell to his lot originated or even existed in the rank and file. He attributes it rather to the officers of the corps, beginning possibly with those of high rank, who resented Jackson's reticence and taciturnity. They felt snubbed by his refusal to take them into his confidence, and then again comparisons will always be made, and as late as Fredericksburg, Jackson was always pitted in comparison with Lee and Longstreet, an exceedingly severe test to subject the quiet school teacher to.
The Stonewall Brigade was encamped in the winter of 1862-3, below Fredericksburg, very near Jackson's headquarters. Their camp was called "Winder," after the revered and respected, but disliked Brigadier, who was the immediate officer of that rank, preceding Paxton in command of the brigade. The punctilious piety which always made Jackson among the first in attendance at the religious services of his old Presbyterian pastor, Dr. White, stuck to him during that winter and up to his death. As soon as the Brigade had completed its winter quarters at Camp Winder, a chapel, in shape like the letter L, with the preacher's stand in the angle, was erected. The forest of noble pines furnished logs in length amply great, and riven boards covered the roof. Rude seats were built upon the uncovered floor, and with great regularity General Jackson attended the services. The writer can in memory see him now, as seated immediately behind him, in the midst of the earnest soldiers of his old brigade, his close and devout attention to the sermon would unfailingly attract attention. His entrance into the rude building was as modest and apparently as uninmportant as that of the humblest private.
