---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - Mathonihah Thomas
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 4
number: 11
published: 1901-09
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: 'Mathonihah Thomas, "“In Stonewall’s Room”," *Improvement Era* 4, no. 11 (September 1901): 815–816.'
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0411unse
  transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers.
  identifier: improvementera0411unse
start_page: 815
end_page: 816
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1901-09)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0411unse
  publication_year: 1901
  note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1901, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# “In Stonewall’s Room”

<!-- page:815 -->

'W STONEWALL'S KO^''
A SKETCH, BY MATHONIHAH THOMAS.

Few great captains have left a more ardent following than
"Stonewall" Jackson. His life was one of intense devotion to the
right as he had the light to discern it, and a prayerful obedience
to duty. His exterior, stern, severe, almost forbidding; his heart
so warm that his soldiers who knew him, fought under him like

demons; remembering him, he becomes their saint. Here is an
illustration:
Down in the "Old Dominion," while walking on a "straight"
road to the Northanna river, one hot day, I passed a large "clear-
ing" near the edge of which stood a delapidated shanty, boarded
with the old time "shingles," and chinked up with mud. Two pine
sticks and a gunnysack made the awning over a hole in the
wall. The sight of a grayhead led me to ask,
"Straight road to North river?"
"Keep straight road, sah."
"Any cool water?"
"'Taint fresh from spring but hits rate smartly kule, sah.

Won't you all come in?"
Turning sharply, I opened the gate and passed into the old
house. The interior was low and small and strewn with saddles,
and old shoes; a rusty
pieces of harness, sacks, scraps of leather,
stove, set in abox of sand which at once served for ash pit and
cuspador; a low shoemaker's bench near the window where an old
man was bent at his work; a few pairs of "fixed" shoes hanging
from the low rafters, completed the furnishings of the room.

<!-- page:816 -->

816 IMPROVEMENT ERA.

As mine host moved toward me with a "gode" full of water, I
saw that a wooden leg took the place of the lost member. "Have
some mo'?" he queried as I handed back the gourd. "Take a seat,
sah," and I overturned a small nail keg.
The old man went back to his seat. I mopped my brow and
wondered if in some engagement of the Civil War, did this old
man of the days gone by, march to the front and fall on a blood-
stained battlefield, to lie there suffering all the horrors of the
wounded until moved to the hospital; whether his heart did not sink
within him when he was later compelled to leave his cherished
corps because of "disability to serve."
"Pretty warm," I ventured.
"Rate smartly warm, sah, but not so hot as 'twas at Spottsyl-
vaniain sixty-fo'!"
"Ah, in whose corps did you serve?"
His eyes brightened immediately, and, with his face wreathed
in smiles, he turned a patronizing glance on me as he said with
pardonable pride, "Stonewall's." Then as he leaned back to pull
from his pocket a twist of tobacco to moisten his tongue, con-

tinued, "They-all called us foot cavalry, sah, we walked so fast
and done fought so hard. Was with him from nigh onto the fust
— the Valley —down the James—
in thro' the Wilderness. He-all
was a Christian and a prayin' man, sah. Many a time befo' a fight
hev I stood gyuard oveh his tent do' and heah him pray all night
long. Pray for eve'ybody and eve'ything, sah. No man was
'fraid to go whar Jackson led sah, fo' he-all brought 'em aout."

The old soldier's eyes kindled at the memory of a glorious
captain. I pondered o'er the impress of the praying soldier on the
guard.
"Straight road to North river?"
"Keep straight road, sah."
