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By h£r Mother 
Mary Anna Jackson 




Copyright, 1910, by 


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To the children, who missed by their young mother's early 

death the joy of her companionship and the blessing 

of her daily care, this brief memorial is dedicated 

-Jay they follow her Guide, animated by her courage and 
faith and love, into the Land of the Living 


This little memorial is published simplj^ for the sake of 
my grandchildren, who, having grown to maturity, can ap- 
preciate the rich heritage that is left to them in the life 
and character of their sainted mother. 

The granddaughter is happily married to a young law- 
yer, Edmund Randolph Preston, a native of Virginia, but 
now an adopted son of North Carolina, and the old grand- 
mother (now a great-granddame), has a lovely home with 
them, and the little Anna Jackson Preston is the light and 
joy of the household. 

The grandson is following the profession of his grand- 
father, expecting to graduate at West Point next year, and 
it goes without saying that the brightest hopes are enter- 
tained for him by his family and friends. 

M. A. J. 

Charlotte, N. C, October, 1910. 

Julia Jackson Christian 

The only child of General "Stonewall" Jackson that 
survived infancy was born on the 23rd of November, 
1862, in Charlotte, North Carolina, at the residence of 
her maternal aimt, Mrs. James P. Irwin. As her birth 
occurred during the war when her father was engaged in 
the service of his country, the home of her parents in 
Lexington, Virginia, was closed, while her mother spent 
those eventful years among her kindred in North Caro- 
lina. From her very birth, she was so extremely like 
her father, that when she was placed in my arms for 
my first look at her, my heart was thrilled with delight 
and thankfulness at seeing every feature of his repro- 
duced in her tiny face. This likeness grew with her 
growth, and was often remarked upon by his old soldiers 
— sometimes causing tears to spring into tlieir eyes as 
they saw the resemblance in his child to their beloved 

General Jackson's own letters have testified to the 
joyous welcome he gave his child into the world, and the 
bright hopes which her advent awakened in his parental 
heart. It gladdened him more than all his victories, 
and filled him with devout gratitude to the Giver of all 

To a man of his extreme domesticity and love of chil- 


dren, this was a crowning happiness; and yet with his 
great modesty and shrinking from publicity, he kept the 
arrival of the little lady all to himself, leaving his staff 
and those around him in camp to hear it through others. 
To him this was a "joy with which a stranger could not 
intermeddle," and from which his own hand could not 
lift the veil of sanctity. The first intimation of his 
new happiness was a letter from his little daughter her- 
self! The amanuensis was her aunt, Mrs. Irwin, at 
whose house she first saw the light, and this was the 
letter : 

"My own dear Father : 

As my mother's letter has been cut short by my 
arrival, I think it but justice that I should continue it. 
I know that you are rejoiced to hear of my coming, and 
I hope that God has sent me to radiate your pathway 
through life. I am a very tiny little thing. I weigh 
only eight and a half pounds, and Aunt Harriet says I 
am the express image of my darling papa, and so does 
our kind friend, Mrs. Osborne, and this greatly delights 
my mother. My aunts both say I am a little beauty. 
My hair is dark and long, my eyes are blue, my nose 
straight, just like my papa's, and my complexion not all 
red like most young ladies of my age, but a beautiful 
blending of the lily and the rose, Now, all this would 
sound very vain if I were older but, I assure you, I have 
not a particle of feminine vanity, my only desire in 
life being to nestle in close to my mamma, to feel her 
caressing touch, and to drink in the pearly stream 
provided by a kind Providence for my support. My 
mother is very comfortable this morning. She is anx- 


ious to have my name decided upon, and hopes you will 
write and give me a name, with your blessing. We 
look for my grandmother to-morrow, and expect before 
long a visit from my little cousin, Mary Graham Avery, 
who is one month my senior. I was born on Sunday, 
just after the morning services at church, but I believe 
my aunt wrote you all about the first day of my life, 
and this being only the second, my history may be com- 
prised in a little space. But my friends, w^ho are about 
me like guardian angels, hope for me a long life of 
happiness and holiness and a futurity of endless bliss. 
Your dear little wee Daughter." 

These lovely little missives continued to reach the 
father until the mother was able once more to resume 
her pen, but only this one was ever recovered. In the 
meantime he writes on the 4th of December : 

"Oh ! how thankful I am to our kind Heavenly Father 
for having spared my precious wife and given us a 
little daughter. I cannot tell you how gratified I am, 
nor how much I wish I could be with you and see my 
two darlings. But while this pleasure is denied me, 
I am thankful it is accorded to you to have the little 
pet, and I hope it may be a great deal of comfort and 
company to its mother. Now, don't exert yourself to 
write to me, for to know that you were taxing yourself 
to write would give me more pain than pleasure, so you 
must not do it. 

"I expect you are just made up now with that baby, 
and regard it as the most precious treasure in the world, 
but you must not spoil it. How I would love to see the 


darling little thing! Give her many kisses for her 

In response to his bahy daughter's first letter, he 
closes by saying, "Thank sister H. very kindly, and give 
the baby daughter a shower of kisses from her father 
and tell her he loves her better than all the baby boys 
in the world, and more than all the other babies in the 

This was to reassure his wife, who feared he would 
be disappointed at not having a boy. He desired a son, 
believing that men had a larger sphere of usefulness 
then women; but his own will was so entirely in subjec- 
tion to that of his Heavenly Father that he said he pre- 
feiTed having a daughter, since God had so ordained it. 

He gave her the name of Julia for his mother, saying, 
"My mother was mindful of me when I was a helpless, 
fatherless child, and I wish to commemorate her now.'^ 
His recollections of his mother were of the sweetest 
and tenderest character, and to his childhood's fancy, 
she was the embodiment of beauty, grace and loveliness. 

He wrote, "This morning I received a charming letter 
from my little daughter, Julia,'' but immediately, as if 
his heart trembled at the very thought of so much happi- 
ness, he adds: "Do not set your heart upon her, except 
as a gift from God. If she absorbs too much of our 
hearts, God may remove her from us." 

Again he writes : "Baby's letters are read with much 
interest, and it does her father's heart good to read 
them. Yesterday I received her letter with its beautiful 
lock of hair. How I do want to see that precious baby ! 
and I do earnestly pray for peace. I haven't seen my 


wife since last March, and never having seen my darling 
baby, you can imagine with how nuieh interest I look- 
to North Carolina." 

General Jackson never took ^ furlough during the 
war and never slept outside of his camp in all that 
time, and as the greater part of his strenuous army life 
was spent in the saddle, my opportunities of visiting him 
were very limited, and as our baby was rather delicate 
the first three months of her life, he was afraid for me 
to travel with her in the winter, and especially as there 
were contagious diseases in his camp; but by Spring she 
had developed into as plump, rosy and fair a little bud 
of humanity as one often sees, and he grew more impa- 
tient for a visit from us. 

In explanation of his long separation from his family, 
he wrote: "It appears to me to be better for me to 
remain with my command as long as the war continues, 
if our gracious Heavenly Father permits. The army 
suffers immensely by absentees. If all our troops, 
officers and men were at their posts, we might, through 
God's blessing, expect a more speedy termination of the 
war. Whilst it would be a great joy and comfort to see 
you and our darling little daughter, yet duty appears to 
require me to remain with my command. It is im- 
portant that those at headquarters set an example by 
remaining at the post of duty." 

Little Julia was over four months old before her father 
ever saw her. He was then in camp near Guiney's 
Station, and wrote urging me to come on and visit him 
before the campaign would open, so, with my baby and 
colored nurse, Hetty, we set out upon this visit, so full 
of interest and anticipated Joys. We made the journey 


safely, stopping in Eichmond to spend Sunday, and 
arriving at Guiney's on Monday, the 20th of April. 
Hetty and I were all anxiety to have our baby present 
her best appearance for her father's first sight of her, 
and she could not have better realized our wishes. She 
awoke from a long, refreshing sleep Just before the 
train stopped, and she never looked more bright and 
charming. When he entered the coach to receive us, 
his rubber overcoat was dripping from the rain which 
was falling, but his face was all sunshine and gladness, 
and after greeting his wife, it was a picture indeed to 
see his look of perfect delight and admiration as his 
eyes fell upon that baby ! She was at the lovely, smiling 
age, and, catching his eager look of supreme interest 
in her, she beamed her sweetest and brightest smiles 
upon him in return, so it seemed to be a mutual fascina- 
tion. He was afraid to take her in his arms, with his 
wet overcoat; but as we drove in a carriage to Mr. 
Yerby's (where he had engaged board for us), his face 
reflected all the delight and happiness that were in his 
heart, and he expressed much surprise and gratification 
at her size and beauty. Upon our arrival at the house 
he speedily divested himself of his overcoat, and, taking 
his baby in his arms, he caressed her with the tenderest 
affection, and held her long and lovingly. During the 
whole of this short visit, when he was with us, he rarely 
had her out of his arms, walking her, and amusing her 
in every way he could think of — sometimes holding her 
up before a mirror and saying: "Now, Miss Jackson, 
look at yourself !" Then he would turn to an old lady 
of the family and say: "Isn't she a little gem?'^ He 
was frequently told that she resembled him, but he 


would say: "No, she is too pretty to look like me.'^ 
When she slept in the day, he would often kneel over 
her cradle, and gaze upon her little face with the most 
rapt admiration, and he said he felt almost as if she 
were an angel, in her innocence and purity. I have often 
wished that the picture which was presented to me of 
that father kneeling over the cradle of that lovely infant 
could have been put upon canvas. And yet with all 
his fondness and devotion to the little lady, he had no 
idea of spoiling her, as will be seen in his undertaking 
to teach her a lesson in self-control before she was five 
months old! One day she began to cry to be taken up 
from the bed on which she was lying, and as soon as 
her wish was gratified, she ceased to cry. He laid her 
back upon the bed, and the crying was renewed with 
increased vigor. Of course, the mother-heart wished to 
stop this by taking her up again, but he exclaimed: 
^^This will never do," and commanded "all hands off," 
until that little will of hers should be conquered. So 
there she lay, kicking and screaming, while he stood 
over her with as much coolness and determination as 
if he were directing a battle; and he was true to the 
name of "Stonewall," even in disciplining a baby! 
When she stopped crying he would take her up, but if 
she began to cry again, he would lay her back, and this 
he kept up until finally she was completely conquered, 
and became perfectly quiet in his hands. 

On the 23rd of April, the day she was five months old. 
General Jackson had little Julia baptized. He brought 
his chaplain, Eev. Dr. B. T. Lacy, to Mr. Yerby's, in 
whose parlor the sacred rite was performed, in the pres- 
ence of the family, and a number of his staff officers. 


The child behaved beautifully, and was the object of 
great interest to her father's friends and soldiers. One 
of his aides, Mr. Smith (afterwards the Eev. Dr. James 
P.), tells how he came to be present at the baptism. He 
says : "I recall the visit to Mr. Yerby's to see the baptism 
of little Julia. I asked the General if I could go and he 
said, ^Certainly, Mr. Smith, you can go; ask the others 
to go with you,^ so I turned out the whole party, making 
quite a cavalcade to ride to Mr. Yerb}^'s. I remember 
the General's impatience at some little delay, and the 
decided way with which he went out and brought in the 
child in his arms.'^ 

The last connection with little Julia and her father 
was her appearance at his death-bed scene. My friend, 
Mrs. (Dr.) Moses D. Hoge, of Eichmond, had most kindly 
come to my assistance in the time of my agonizing trial, 
and was taking care of my baby while I was watching 
in the sick room. She, with Hetty following, brought 
the child into the room, when he had almost ceased to 
notice anything, but as soon as they entered the door, 
his countenance brightened with delight, and he never 
smiled more sweetly as he exclaimed: "Little darling, 
sweet one !'^ She was seated on the bed beside him, and 
after watching her intently with radiant smiles, he 
closed his eyes as if in prayer. Though she was suffer- 
ing the pangs of hunger from long absence from her 
mother, she seemed to forget her discomfort in the joy of 
seeing that loving face beam on her once more, and she 
looked at him and smiled as long as he continued to 
notice her. — Without doubt, the father and child were 
reunited, never more to part, when she herself was 


translated in the bloom of her early womanhood, to "tlie 
mansions not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. '^ 
My good father had sent me as a nurse for my child, 
the same woman, Hetty, who had nursed me in infancy, 
and consequently there was an attachment between us. 
She was energetic, impulsive and strong-minded, with 
some fine traits, and was trustworthy and faithful to 
her charge. She was somewhat inclined to self-asser- 
tion, particularly as she felt her importance in being so 
much the senior of her new master and mistress, but 
she soon learned from "the spirit that commanded his 
household after him," that her only course must be 
that of implicit obedience. After learning this lesson she 
toned down into a well-mannered, useful domestic, and 
indeed she became a factotum in the family. She was 
sent from North Carolina to Virginia alone, and, being 
totally unaccustomed to traveling, when she arrived at 
Richmond and was trying to find her train to Lexington, 
some one who saw her anxiety asked her where she 
wanted to go ? Her discouraged reply was : "Well, Fm 
going to Virginia, but the Lord knows whether I'll ever 
get there or not!" Amid all her difficulties she was 
keeping a close eye upon a little old hair-trunk that 
contained her possessions, and when she discovered a 
porter taking it up to transfer it, she peremptorily ex- 
claimed: "Put down that trunk! That's General 
Jackson's trunk V^ She had astuteness enough to know 
that there was power in a name, and to assert herself 
in protecting her own rights. She became devoted to 
her master, and was a sincere mourner over his death, 
shedding tears freely, and she said she had lost her best 
friend. I would gladly have kept and supported her for 


the rest of her life, hut she was allured by her freedom 
to seek greater independence and gain, severing a tie 
which had been one (seemingly, at least) of mutual 
attachment and confidence. She only acted as did the 
majority of the freedmen, who could not feel that they 
were free until they had left their former masters. 
The sturdy old woman lived to be over ninety years of 
age, and it is hoped that the prayers and example of her 
master proved a benediction to her during all the 
remaining years of her life. He required every one of 
his servants to attend family worship, punctually and 

Little Julia was about three years old before I ever 
had the heart or means to take any trip from my 
father's home, but kind friends provided a way for me 
to visit Lexington — ^my beloved, married home — and in 
making a brief stay in Eichmond, a newspaper notice of 
the child appeared, which was as follows : 

^^A fair correspondent sends us the following delicate 
pen and ink portrait of the only living scion of the late 
General T. J. Jackson. She is evidently in love with 
her subject. 

^^I had recently the pleasure of seeing the child of 
'Stonewall' Jackson. She is a bright little cherub, about 
three years old, with fair hair, blue eyes, and a com- 
plexion of mingled lilies and roses — the lilies, however, 
predominating, as she does not look very robust. For 
the benefit of curious mothers, I will describe her dress. 
She wore a Marie Louise blue merino, trimmed with 
narrow black velvet ribbon, edged with white. Her 
little cloth cloak was of a light drab color, ornamented 


with bands of silk and fancy bnttons. Her hat was of 
English straw, trimmed with blue velvet and white 
feathers. A tippet and mnff of ermine completed the 
costume of the little fairy, and she looked as enchant- 
ing as any mother's darling need look. She was borne 
in the arms of a colored nurse, of whom she seemed very 
fond, and to whom she was prattling with exuberant 
gayety. The dark-eyed, sad-looking lady who followed 
her, in widow's cap, and garb of deepest mourning, 
completed the picture of sunshine and shadow." 

The editor adds: "The daughter of ^Stonewall' Jack- 
son ! May she long live to perpetuate to future genera- 
tions the lineal blood of her immortal father !'' 

The first ten years of Julia's life were spent in the 
home of her grandfather, the Eev. Dr. R. H. Morrison, in 
Lincoln County, North Carolina. Here she was the only 
child in the family, the pet of the household, and her 
childhood's life was one of great innocence and simplic- 
ity. She had no playmates, except when little visitors 
came, which always gave her great delight, but she was 
happy in amusing herself in her own solitary, childish 
ways — making play-houses under the great oak trees, and 
planting and tending her little garden, as she saw her 
mother do hers. She cultivated pop-corn, peanuts, 
vegetables and flowers, and once proposed planting 
candy in her garden, thinking it would yield her a rich 
return of sweets. She had many beautiful dolls, each 
one having its own name, and she loved them as if they 
were really human. Among them was a perfect Con- 
federate soldier, with his miniature canteen, tobacco 
bag, and every equipment for the service in war. He 


was "Jolinny Eeb," and was a present to her, as were 
all of her handsomest dolls. She was devoted to pets, 
and had her terrier dog, Bess, her kittens, chickens and 
canary birds — ^the latter all coming to grief, however, 
from the cruel ravages of the cats. In her garden were 
several little graves of her birds, over which she had 
shed many tears. Her grandfather gave her a pure 
white calf, which she named "Snowdrop," and after it 
came into service as a milch-cow, if she ever saw a 
servant strike, or maltreat her pet, it aroused her in- 
dignation and caused her genuine distress. But the 
supreme object of her affection in the barnyard was 
her father's war-horse, "Little Sorrel,'^ or "Fancy,'' as 
he was called on the farm. She delighted in petting him, 
and nothing pleased her more than to have a ride upon 
his back, to which she began to be treated at quite an 
early age. She was extremely fond of horse-back riding, 
and became a fearless and gi-aceful rider as she grew 
to womanhood. She then had her own horse, "Kex," but 
he never occupied the place in her heart which old 
Fancy possessed. Her birthdays in childhood were 
always celebrated by little entertainments. She had 
lovely little sets of china, and the daintiest of little 
viands were served at her small table, over which she 
presided with all the dignity and importance of matured 
3'ears. If there were no children present, her young aunt, 
uncle and mother were the guests, and on one occasion, 
when it was proposed that one of the grown persons 
should preside at the head of the table, she replied 
decidedly : "No, I will provide.^^ She had a very pretty 
little Ute-d-iete set in silver presented to her by the 
Stonewall Fire Company, of Chester, South Carolina, 


which was quite ornamental as well as useful to her 
juvenile table, and which afterwards rendered valuable 
service when she was a grown-up housekeeper. 

Her disposition as a child was singularly affectionate, 
sympathetic and clinging; her feelings were quickly 
touched, and her sensibility was so extreme as to give 
her great capacity for suffering, but as she approached 
maturit}^, she developed the same pride of character, 
strength of will, self-control and fortitude that were so 
conspicuous in her father. 

When she was a little thing, during my visits to Lex- 
ington, if she ever saw me manifest any emotion over 
the memories of her father, she wept bitterly herself, 
so that to spare her feelings, I once slipped off from her 
to visit the cemetery. When I arose from my devotions 
at her father's grave, what was my surprise, and how my 
heart was touched, to see my poor little darling standing 
at some distance watching me with a face of convulsed 
grief. She surmised where I had gone, and followed me 
alone, mien she was several years older, we were at 
the Hot Springs, of :N-orth Carolina, one summer, and I 
was mvited to take a row in a small bateau upon the 
French Broad Eiver. When our frail bark finally 
reached its landing place, there stood anxious little 
Julia, accompanied by a child-friend, watching eacrerly 
for my safe return. She could have no peace of mind 
during what she apprehended was a perilous expedition 
for her mother. Many similar touching incidents of her 
intense filial love and solicitude could be related. Possi- 
bly the love that belongs to both parents was concen- 
trated in her warm little heart. When we were from 
home visiting friends, she would go out and play very 


happily with the children^, but every now and then she 
would return to the parlor door and peep in to satisfy 
herself that her mother was there. As she grew older, 
her devotion assumed a protecting care that was as 
sweet as it was remarkable, and she could never bear 
to see her one parent made the subject of a joke or 
criticism by any one. 

In early childhood, she could never hear a touching 
story read without tears, and would beg that the reading 
should be discontinued as soon as the pathos became too 
much for her, saying: "It's too sad; I don't want to 
hear any more." She was a pensive looking child, but 
was never morbid or unhappy, and was very responsive 
to playfulness and sociability. She w^as extremely active, 
and rode stick-horses after she commenced the study 
of a child's Geography. I was much amused at a grand 
gallop she made down a country road one evening, 
cutting her horse, and saying: "Get up, Argentine Con- 
federation T'' She had named her horse after one of 
her most high-sounding geographical acquirements. She 
was taught by a governess for several years before she 
left her grandfather's house. Like her father in child- 
hood, she was not precocious, but her mind and memory 
were strong and retentive. Before she could read, she 
was instructed verbally in a child's scriptural catechism. 
One of the questions on the subject of original sin has 
an answer that "by nature we do nothing but sin." 
This humiliating answer aroused her indignation, and 
with flashing eyes she protested against it, saying: "iVo, 
/ don't do nothing hut sin! I work — I pick up chips, 
and tend to my garden, and I know I don't sin all the 
time !" It was explained to her that all persons were 


born with sinful natures, and we could do nothing good 
by our own power, that God's grace and spirit alone 
kept us from sin. She finally accepted the explanation 
as applicable to herself, but remarked in a yery positive 
and reverent manner: ^'Well^ I Tcnow my papa never 
sinned F^ 

Her affection and veneration for his memory seemed 
to be one of the earliest sentiments to spring up in her 
young heart, and became more and more the ruling pas- 
sion of her life, with her growing years. 

When Julia was about four years of age, a lady who 
then lived in Charlotte, upon receiving a photograph of 
her, placed it among a group of fallen Southern gen- 
erals, which seemed to inspire her to write the following 
verses : 


On our simple parlor wall. 

Where the softest shadows lie, 
And the golden sunbeams fall 

With a glimmer as they fly. 
Four pictured patriots stand. 

Who, from out our Southern land. 
Passed through death's tumultuous river. 

To their recompense and rest. 

Foremost, he, whose noble name. 

To the future will go down 
With a never fading fame. 

And an ever glorious crown. 


While the South her vigil keeps, 
O'er her cherished dead, and weeps. 

She will point to Stonewall Jackson 
As her brightest and her best ! 

Next, that servant of the Lord 

Who laid down his pastoral crook, 
And the consecrated sword 

In his sacred fingers took. 
While his snowy robes remained 

With their purity unstained; 
And the God he worshipped took him 

By a swift and glorious death. (Bishop Polk.) 

Then the warrior brave and true, 

Blamed by cruel tongues and crost 
In his highest aims, who threw 

For a mighty stake, and lost — 
Broken-hearted, passed away 

In the fiercest of the fray. 
When the Martyr Sidney Johnston 

Yielded up his gentle breath. 

Never battled knight of old, 

Never form in kingly guise 
Clothed a manlier, merrier soul 

Than this one, which smiling lies, 
While the blue eyes beam so clear 

That we almost wait to hear 
Stuart's peal of mellow laughter 

Like a rich bell fill the air ! 


In this group of mighty dead 

Is a lovely little child, 
With her sweet lips flushing red 

And her soft eyes beaming mild. 
On her baby brow appears 

Sadness more than suits her years, 
But it may be that the shadow 

Of her father's grave falls there ! 

Calm and beautiful and wise, 

In her rich yet simple dress, 
And we gaze with glowing eyes 

On her winning loveliness, 
Feeling every Southern heart 

In his child may claim a part 
And pour out upon his daughter 

All the love to him we bore ! 

Fairest little one, 'tis best 

That around your tender feet 

This pure band of spirits blest 
In a guardian watch should meet. 

While upon your gentle head 

Your great father's glance is shed. 

Which in life his features wore. 

Oh ! much cherished child, if love 
And most fervent prayers can bring 

Eichest blessings from above 
In your earthly path to spring. 


May you know God^s perfect peace, 
Till your life's long journey cease, 

And your father's arms enfold you 
On the ever blissful shore ! 

Mrs. Fanny Downing. 

During Julia's visits, in childhood, to Lexington, she 
was an object of special kindness and interest to Mrs. 
General E. E. Lee. The following letter to the little 
girl, accompanying a photograph of Mrs. Lee, which she 
had tinted herself, and upon which she had inscribed her 
autograph, shows the friendship between them : 

"Lexington, Va., March 5th, 1872. 
"You will think it strange, my dear little Julia, if you 
have thought about it at all, why I have delayed send- 
ing you the picture I promised you, but if you knew 
how sick and helpless I have been all the winter, and 
am even now, you would be surprised that I could use 
either my pen or pencil. I hope you have not had such 
weather as we have endured here — nothing but ice, 
sleet and snow — and even now, we have the deepest 
snow we have had all winter. The students have in- 
dulged much in skating and snow-balling, and a great 
many little girls, much smaller than yourself, would be 
hours on the ice — the weather, too, being intensely cold 
all the time. Several of the little girls have had parties, 
which I am sure you would have enjoyed, had you been 
here, and, altogether, they have had a gay winter, but 
it has been a very sad one to me. I do not think I ever 
spent so sad a Christmas, for, besides my own suffering, 
then, my little granddaughter died. You did not see her, 
I think, or you never would have forgotten her beautiful 


face, and she was as good as she was beautiful. But now 
she is one of the brightest cherubs around the throne of 
God, and I will weep for her no more. Wliat have you 
been doing all winter? Does your mamma teach you, 
and are you fond of learning? You are her only child, 
and you must learn all that is useful and excellent to be 
a comfort to her, and to honor the memory of your 
noble father. I was an only child, and how often I 
sorrow to feel that I did not do more for my dear 
mother, who spent her life in trying to teach me every- 
thing I ought to know, especially my duty to my God 
and Saviour. 

"I fear you will find this letter dull for your gay 
young heart, which now sees nothing in life but joy 
and gladness. I well know it appears to you like a long 
summer day, filled with all sorts of pleasures, and God 
has given us so much that is beautiful — scattered flowers 
all along our paths. For them and all other blessings, 
we must thank and praise Him. 

" Give my love to your mamma, and take for yourself 
as much as you care to have from 

Mary Custis Lee." 

The memory and example of her father seemed to 
become to Julia an inspiration just as soon as the forma- 
tive influences of her character began to develop. She 
had scarcely passed beyond childhood, when we find 
her, without even a suggestion from any one else, copy- 
ing from the private journal he had compiled at West 
Point, the rules and maxims which he had chosen for his 
guidance, afterwards adding to them many others, 
chiefly from the Bible. Her favorite selections seemed 


to be those inculcating self-control, bridling the tongue, 
and doing good to others. Her note-book abounds in 
such passages as these. ^'God is Love'^; "If you love me, 
keep my commandments." Try to keep them all, but 
especially remember the fourth, fifth and tenth, which 
are oftener broken than the others. Always try to give 
a reasonable answer for what you believe. "Judge not, 
that ye be not judged." "Love your enemies," and 
never speak evil of them. Always try to be polite to 
everybody, especially the aged; and if any one is rude 
to you, have respect enough for yourself not to return 
the rudeness. "N'ever neglect duty for pleasure," and 
then your heart will be at ease. Always try to remember 
the golden rule: "Do unto others as you would have 
them do unto you." 

She was naturally generous and unselfish — traits in- 
herited from her father, and no one ever possessed a 
higher sense of justice, or greater scorn for all deceit 
and meanness, and her own nature was so pure and 
high-toned that she was not prone to suspicion, making 
it difficult for her to penetrate the veil of innocence and 
charity through which it was her wont to view humanity 
in general. 

As a little child, she was obedient, truthful and so 
obliging, that one of her young uncles, who called upon 
her ad libitum for his little errands about the house, 
used to say, he believed she would run her little feet off 
for anybody she loved. Her affection for this uncle, 
Eev. Alfred J. Morrison, was extreme. She was about 
fourteen, when he was cut down in the beginning of 
his ministry, which, in virtue of his talents and conse- 
cration, promised great usefulness. His death was 



^tV J 


(Age 12 years) 


Julia's first siperience in losing a loTed our, and her 
grief was intense and pathetic. 

When a child, she associated so much with grown 
people, that her feeling of liberty and equality was, in 
one instance, at least, productive of some annoyance, as 
well as of amusement. The fiance of her young aunt 
(who was a frequent visitor at the house), had wod 
little Julia's heart, also, by his caressing attentions, and 
she seemed to think that she was as much the object of 
his attention, as the real magnet. During his visits, the 
parlor was the most attractive place to her — little 
dreaming how much she was in the way — and when the 
lovers would take a buggy-drive, she was quite offended 
at being left behind. The kind-hearted future uncle, 
seeing how much she took it to heart, included her once 
or twice in his invitations — unwelcome as her small 
presence must have been. After the marriage, when 
her aunt playfully twitted the little girl on having "cut 
her out," she replied reproachfully: "Yes, you took 
him from me V 

After leaving the home of her grandfather, when she 
was ten years old, her education was continued in Char- 
lotte until she was about sixteen. During this period, 
the most important event was her attendance, with her 
mother, at Eichmond, upon the unveiling of the bronze 
statue of General Jackson, which was presented to Vir- 
ginia, by English gentlemen. She was then twelve years 
old, and was so exceedingly shy, that the notice she 
attracted on her father's account, gave her positive 
suffering. When she was taken from my side, and unex- 
pectedly to herself, held up on the platform, by Gov- 
ernor Kemper, and presented to the gaze of the vast 


multitude, as "Jackson's child," it was such a shock to 
her sensitive, shrinking nature, that when she came back 
to me, she was trembling all over, and begged to retire 
at once to the privacy of our apartments, that she might 
regain her composure. As she grew towards woman- 
hood, she overcame her excessive timidity, and learned 
to meet the attentions and courtesies paid her by her 
father's admirers with the true graciousness and appre- 
ciation which she felt in her inmost heart. Her strength 
of will showed itself in this, as in all the developments 
of her nature, which reflected so distinctly many of the 
fine traits of her father's character. 

About the age of fifteen years, she became a member 
of the First Presbyterian Church of Charlotte, the 
church of her inheritance and of her choice, to which 
she remained faithful as long as she lived. She had 
great reverence for sacred things, and a sincere desire 
to use her influence for good, but for a period, after 
entering upon her bright, young girlhood, the attrac- 
tions of the world, and the adulation she received, threw 
around her a spell of worldliness, which made her more 
negligent in her religious duties. A poet has truly said : 

" 'Tis always so easy to wander 
When our lives are glad and sweet." 

Her environment of charming and captivating influ- 
ences, was enough to dazzle even a stronger nature than 
hers. But God, in his own good time and way, drew 
her back of Him, and her later years w^ere marked by 
unusual development in the divine life. She was de- 
voted to music — being gifted in it herself, and learned 


to play with much taste and expression. Her voice, 
though not strong, was sweet and flexible, and, after 
hearing an air, she caught it with wonderful quickness. 
She was quite a reader, and improved her mind in 
that way— it being one of the things she most loved to 
do. She was especially fond of poetry, and had com- 
mitted to memory many passages from Shakespeare, 
Longfellow and other great poets. Adelaide Proctor 
and Father Kyan were favorites with her, and she loved 
many hymns. 

In the last few years of her life, she seemed herself 
to be inspired with the spirit of poesy, and left behind 
her a number of fragmentary pieces, breathing senti- 
ments of earnest piety, and aspirations after holiness 
and consecration. 

While she was kindly and gracious with her associates 
in general, making friends wherever she went, she had 
few real intimate friends, and still fewer confidants. 
Like her father before her, she knew how to keep her 
own counsel, and when a secret was entrusted in her 
keeping, it remained there with as much sacredness 
and safety as if it had been deposited in the grave. For 
so young a person, she was remarkably prudent in speech 
—self-reliant, and independent in thought and action. 
But when she did love and trust a friend, she gave the 
whole of her warm and loving heart, and no human 
heart was ever more true and loyal than hers. She said 
herself, that "when she loved once, she loved forever." 
Her most devoted and intimate friend, whose acquaint- 
ance began at school, said of her : "Even before I knew 
her name, a sweet unselfish act of hers to me, then a 
sick and homesick child, made me feel that among all 


the strange faces surrounding me, hers was the one I 
could learn to love ; and the friendship formed then was 
onl}^ deepened and strengthened by time." 

As Julia budded into womanhood, she lost much of 
that pensive look that was so noticeable in childhood; 
her countenance and manner, when in conversation, 
being instinct with animation and vivacity; but when 
in repose, her face usually assumed much of the same 
old expression of pensiveness. 

The last two years of her school-life were spent at 
"The Southern Home School" in Baltimore — her 
mother accompanying her, and boarding near the 
school. The Baltimore Gazette published at that time 
the following notice : "When the Jackson statue was 
unveiled in Eichmond some years ago, after the pro- 
cession and the oratory, Governor Kemper brought for- 
ward upon the platform a slender little girl, and ad- 
dressing the crowd of the old Confederate soldiers, said : 
^Comrades, let me present to you the daughter of 
^Stonewair Jackson.^ Somehow the tears sprang to 
every eye at the sight of this delicate child of their 
resistless leader. There was no cheering, but every 
face showed deep emotion. Ever since that time a 
tender and poetic interest has clung to this little lady, 
and there are many thousands who care to know of her 
well-being. She has recently arrived in this city, under 
the care of her mother, who never loses sight of her and 
who brings her to school. She has been entered at the 
Southern Home School, Mrs. W. M. Gary and Mrs. 
General Pegram, principals. Miss Julia Jackson is 
about sixteen years old, medium height, slender and 
graceful. She is blonde, with fresh color and fair hair. 


Her eyes are of exquisite clear gray, large and expres- 
sive. Her manners are gentle, but not shy or reserved. 
There is a marked resemblance to her illustrious father, 
and she seems hardly conscious of the distinction that 
she enjoys, and of the romantic interest that she carries 
with her." 

Her school life in Baltimore was not marked by any 
events of unusual occurrence. The first Christmas she 
was there, the old Confederate soldiers of the city, who 
had followed her father, presented her with a beautiful 
silver pitcher. General Trimble making a handsome 
presentation speech in behalf of the donors. 

For a time, during her sojourn there, she displayed 
great zeal in teaching a mission class in the Sunday 
School of the church we attended. Finding one of her 
pupils absent one Sunday, she determined to visit her 
and bring her back, walking alone quite a distance to 
an unknown and obscure part of the cit}^, her earnest- 
ness and force of will carrying out her mission, causing 
her to lose sight of any danger that she might herself 
encounter in such an expedition. 

Prior to her going to Baltimore, her health not 
being as good as usual one summer, for her benefit, we 
visited the Buffalo Lithia Springs in Virginia, and her 
improvement was so great that the visit was repeated 
the succeeding summer. From a pale-faced, delicate 
looking girl, tlie waters of that remarkable spring trans- 
formed her into a blooming maiden, and the beautiful 
and healthful glow which she there acquired, continued 
the rest of her life. 


A lady with, whom we had been at the Springs after- 
wards wrote this of Julia: "I can recall her so pleas- 
antly as I saw her at Buffalo Lithia when she went 
every morning to read to the old man who was not a 
believer in the Bible, and she tried all she could to do 
him good, carrying him flowers and dainties from the 

She made an agreement with her young gentlemen 
friends to meet them at public prayers every morning, 
if they would go. 

About the close of her first year at school in Balti- 
more, we attended the unveiling of a Confederate monu- 
ment in Winchester, Virginia, and were welcomed and 
entertained with all the graceful hospitality for which 
that historic old town has ever been noted. It is need- 
less to say the young school-girl was charmed, and the 
most pleasant and grateful impressions were made upon 
her heart by the kind attentions of her father's friends 
and followers. Hers might have been called a charmed 
life, with the rich heritage of tender interest and affec- 
tion that hung over it. She fully appreciated and felt 
grateful for all this, but I think it only increased her 
humility and self-depreciation — feeling as she did, that 
so much was expected of her father's child, and her 
nature was so exceedingly sensitive and shrinking, that 
the publicity and demonstrations she had to encounter, 
were often more of a trial than a pleasure to her. 

In May, 1881, when she was on the eve of leaving 
school in Baltimore, we were invited to visit New Or- 
leans, to witness the unveiling of a statue of General 
Jackson, erected by his old soldiers, in the Southwest, 
in Metairie Cemetery. In the Crescent City, the young 


debutante was the recipient of more attentions and 
graceful courtesies than she had ever received in her 
life before — being feted in almost every conceivable 
style, and having presented to her over a dozen badges 
from the various military and civic associations. Every 
military company, and the clubs of the city, gave us 
receptions, and the former made us honorary members, 
presenting elegantly framed certificates. The freedom 
of the city was tendered to us, and no guests could have 
been more royally entertained. The floral offerings 
were truly things of beauty and exquisite works of art, 
and the speeches that presented them glowed with 
chivalry and eloquence. 

At a reception held in our honor one evening, at the 
St. Charles Hotel, a reporter made the following pen- 
picture: "Miss Jackson, a fair, fresh blonde, with 
beaming hazel (?) eyes, possesses a charming dignity 
of manner, united with a girlish simplicity that is most 
fascinating. She was attired in pure white, her only 
ornaments being a miniature of her father, worn at her 
throat, while upon her shoulder was fastened a badge 
presented her by the army of Northern Virginia." 

On our return to North Carolina, we stopped for a 
brief visit to relatives in Mobile, where the citizens, 
especially the military, seemed to vie with their neigh- 
bors of New Orleans in giving us an ovation which, 
although not on so large a scale, was equally cordial and 
enthusiastic. The floral offerings in that sunny South- 
land surpassed anything of the kind I had ever seen, 
representing shields, banners, boats and various devices, 
including Confederate and Union flags, and the perfect 


inscription in flowers of the words, '' Stonewall Jackson," 
"Welcome," etc. 

The soft, delicious air of those Gulf States in May, 
the wealth of flowers and evergreens, the lovely drives 
over shell roads, through magnolia groves, alongside the 
bay, the delightful and refreshing sails and boat-excur- 
sions, to which were added the charms and hospitality 
of Southern societ}^ fill up the full measure of enjoy- 
ment and enchantment. 

During the few years after Julia left school until her 
marriage, we were often birds of passage, she being fond 
of travel and seeing new places and people. We paid 
another charming visit to Xew Orleans, during the 
mardi-gras season, which bound us in still closer ties 
of affection and interest to its noble and warm-hearted 
people. We also visited friends in Memphis, Atlanta 
and Charleston; took a lovely trip through Florida one 
winter ; went occasionally to Baltimore and Washington, 
and traveled through the Northern States; but Vir- 
ginia was, par excellence, the place of her preference, 
and she spent the most time there; Richmond being 
our headquarters. Several summers w^e visited the 
Virginia Springs. Our winters were generally passed 
in Richmond and our summers in Lexington. Virginia 
possessed the charm of being her father's State, and for 
his sake the Virginians claimed us as their own; but 
nowiiere in the South could we go without meeting this 
same protestation of interest and regard, the name of 
^Stonewall' Jackson being a talisman that opened to 
those who bore it every Southern heart and home. And 
even in the North that name was enough to win for his 
family a degree of kindness and hospitality that was as 


gratifying as it was surprising — liberal-minded North- 
erners claiming him, as they said, and feeling proud of 
him as an American. 

Among the best of the manifold blessings God gave 
us, through his name, were many and delightful friends, 
verifying the proverb: ^'A good name is rather to be 
chosen than great riches.'^ 

Although Julia went into society a good deal and 
with apparent zest and enjoyment, she was not perfectly 
devoted to it, and often wearied of its demands upon 
her. Her nature was too true and earnest to gain 
content and happiness from the mere pleasure of the 
world. She never indulged in card-playing, nor in 
round-dancing, in deference to the wishes of her 
mother, who regarded her person — as her Christian 
father's child — with too much sacredness to be encircled 
in the arms of any and every man. After reaching 
maturity, the fatherless girl realized more and more 
how great a calamity to her was tlie loss of her father. 
Her very position as the daughter of so good and great 
a man, revealed to her the need of his strong, supporting 
arms, and no young heart ever yearned more for the 
protecting care, guidance and fatherly love which she 
had lost with him. Especially was this the case in 
deciding the most momentous questions of her life. 
She possessed the decision, bravery and physical cour- 
age inherent in her race. Although she loved her 
mother with all the depth of her heart, her strength 
of will was so superior, and her nature so diverse, that 
it was very difhcult for her to see things through the 
same medium of that mother's eyes, and her independ- 
ence sometimes led her to decide for herself, matters 


which required all the matured judgment and experi- 
enced wisdom of a parent. She always knew just what 
she wanted, and when her mind was made up, she was 
not given to wavering or change, but steadfastly and 
resolutely abode by her decision — in minor matters as 
well as in those of greater importance. Her heart and 
nature were so imbued with courage, constancy and 
determination, and she felt opposition and disappoint- 
ment so keenly, that it inclined her mother's over- 
weening love all the more to spare her from its embitter- 
ing and depressing effects. But in the last few years of 
her young life, her strong character softened and 
sweetened, yielding the richest return of filial devotion, 
deference and tenderest consideration that a mother's 
heart could wish. She was naturally nervous and rest- 
less, and full of latent energ}^ which needed only an 
object to call it forth, and when it was put into exercise 
her will to perform what she willed showed that she was 
"a chip of the old block." 

As an instance of this conquering spirit of perse- 
verance, I may mention a simple incident that occurred 
while Julia was visiting an aunt at Hampden Sidney, 
Virginia. There were two institutions of learning there 
at that time, and consequently plenty of beaux, whose 
society she was just at the age to enjoy most, and whose 
demands upon her time almost overwhelmed her with 
engagements. But she resolved, in the midst of all 
these social gayeties, to make a dress for herself. She 
had never done anything of the kind in her life, and 
one would have thought her as capable of making a 
Chinese puzzle ; but, nothing daunted, she went to work 
— cut, fitted, and actually made the whole dress with her 


own fingers, without a machine, astonishing her 
friends by her perseverance and success. When I after- 
wards joined her at her aunt's, she came to meet me, 
attired in a most becoming blue nun's veiling dress, 
elaborately shirred, and well-fitting, and stylish enough 
to do credit to a city dressmaker, and when she told me 
it was her own work, my astonishment was beyond 
measure. It was the more surprising to me because 
I had always discouraged her in attempting either plain 
or fancy work, on account of her not being robust in 
childhood; and when she was permitted to do it, she 
w^ould become so fascinated with her crocheting, that 
she would never lay it down in the evening until she 
w^as ordered to bed; then she would place it under her 
pillow, and the moment her eyes were open in the 
morning, she would resume her work, before rising. In 
consequence of this inherited tenacity of purpose, I had 
encouraged her in outdoor exercises and amusements, 
with a view of invigorating her constitution, the result 
being successful, for as she grew^ in years, she devel- 
oped in strength and vigor. 

In the year 1883, while Julia w^as visiting at Old 
Point, an ex-Confederate soldier paid her the following 
tribute : 

"Jewel brightest, fairy belle. 
Unto thee my heart I tell. 
Lovely art thou in thy ways. 
In thine eyes are witching rays. 
Although our paths do lie apart. 
Joyous be thy truest heart, 


All the hours of thy pure life, 
Cheerful, gay and without strife. 
Know that for thy father's sake 
Southern men do hold thee dearest, 
Over all their maidens nearest, 
Now and ever in their hearts." 

On the 2nd of June, 1885, Julia Jackson was married 
to Mr. William Edmund Christian, then a resident of 
Eichmond, and a talented, cultured young gentleman, 
who had by a long siege of devotion, won her whole 

The ceremony took place in the Second Presbyterian 
Church of Eichmond, Eev. Dr. Moses D. Hoge, the 
pastor, and the Eev. William H. Christian, the father 
of the groom, officiating. In taking this most important 
step in her life, she did not consider herself alone, as 
the following extract from a letter she wrote her grand- 
father will show: "One thing that drew me to him 
was his great kindness and regard for my mother. I 
feel sure that he will do everything in his power to 
make her life comfortable and happy, as well as my 
own, and I trust we may all have a lovely home together, 
and live useful. Christian lives. '^ Her most intimate 
friend also said : "When Julia wrote me of her engage- 
ment, I remember how earnestly she expressed her hope 
that her marriage would give her mother a strong arm 
to lean on — her leading thought seemed to be of her 
happiness. And then, after her marriage, she invariably 
wTote as if she was so thankful to be in her own home, 
and to realize that the gay world had no longer a claim 
upon her." 

(as a Bride) 


The occasion of lier mnrriage called forth many testi- 
monials of interest and affection from the old soldiers 
and friends of General Jackson; the presents of silver, 
china, bric-a-brac and various other things pertaining to 
housekeeping were numerous and valuable. 

After taking a Northern tour, the young couple, in 
a short while, made a home for themselves in Richmond. 
And now it was that the young, ardent little housekeeper 
displayed the stuff she was made of, taking unbounded 
pleasure in furnishing and beautifying her house. Her 
lovely and elegant bridal gifts added greatly to the 
adornment of her home, and were cherished souvenirs 
with her. She was very ambitious to become a good 
housekeeper, and studied and tested her cookery books. 
When her entertainments were commended and ad- 
mired, she received even more pleasure and gratification 
than the guests, and her aim was ever to discharge her 
domestic duties in the way to make her home the abode 
of love and comfort. She was a true and loyal wife, 
willing to make any sacrifice for her husband's best 
interests, and when, before a year had ended, he was 
tempted by brighter prospects to remove to the North- 
west, she deemed it her duty to yield to his wishes, and 
without a demur, gave up the bright little home she 
had made, so much enjoyed, and brought to such per- 
fection, packed away her furniture, and went with him 
to St. Paul, Minnesota. They spent the summer of 
1886 in the beautiful and growing twin-cities of St. 
Paul and Minneapolis, and the succeeding autumn 
found them on the Pacific coast, in San Diego, Cali- 
fornia. The business prospects of that place were just 
then unusually inviting, a real estate boom having 


struck the little town, drawing an influx of people and 
prosperity which was marvelous; but proved to be 
equally ephemeral. In one year the population multi- 
plied from twelve thousand to thirty thousand, and 
buildings and business increased in proportion. But in 
less than two years the big bubble burst, the collapse 
throwing so depressed and discouraging an aspect upon 
business affairs, that many of the strangers who had 
been allured there by tlie dazzling prospects, returned 
East, where things, though not moving with such 
lightning speed, were nevertheless upon a more sub- 
stantial and permanent basis. Among this train we 
found ourselves, and in the autumn of 1888, after a 
residence of two years in San Diego, we removed to 
Charlotte, North Carolina. We did not, however, like 
Naomi, return empty, but came back enriched with the 
possession of two lovely little Calif ornians, who brought 
more joy and sunshine into our lives than all the 
wealth of the Golden State could have given us. In 
Charlotte, Mr. Christian engaged in journalism, and 
here Julia had the pleasure of collecting all of her 
pretty Eichmond furniture together again, and making 
a most attractive and comfortable home. Although 
glad to get back among our own people once more, our 
sojourn in California had been full of interest and of 
much genuine enjoyment. The superb climate of glori- 
ous sunshine and balmy sea breezes, the beauties of the 
scenery, combining ocean and mountains, and the full- 
ness and activity of life, caused by the springing up of 
a city like a mushroom, made San Diego quite an inter- 
esting place. The historic old town (for the original 
settlement dates back over a century), became all the 


more endeared to us as the birthplace of our precious 
little children, and we made some warm friends there. 
Julia loved that delicious, genial climate, with its 
luscious fruits and flowers, describing it herself in a 
letter as "The land of perpetual spring, with its constant 
sunlight; the beauty and fragrance of its flowers that 
cover the hills like Oriental rugs," and while there, she 
almost lived in the open air. She had her horse and 
buggy, and a large part of the first baby's life was 
passed in driving around the town and country, her 
mother saying she was "a fresh-air child," and certainly 
both mother and babe showed the good results. 

Maternity was the crowning influence to bring into 
play and to develop all the noble, self-sacrificing and 
sterling traits of Julia's character. Her elder child 
was named Anna Jackson, but after the death of her 
mother, the name of Little Anna was changed to Julia, 
as a memorial by the husband and father. She always 
called her "Baby-love," until the arrival of her boy, and 
to my eyes, no picture could have been sweeter and 
lovelier than that of the fresh, girlish-looking mother, 
and the bright little rose-bud of a baby she held in her 
arms. In my absence, the theme of Julia's letters was 
Baby-love — her winning little ways, her mimicry and 
her affection — saying: "She is such a little sunbeam. 
Sometimes when she is almost asleep, she will raise 
herself up and put up her little mouth to kiss me ; then 
she nestles down and goes to sleep. I can never thank 
my Heavenly Father enough for my little treasure." 
"Baby-love is just sweeter, brighter, and prettier than 
ever. She is so fond of music, that when she hears 
singing, she sings, too, and when she hears the band 


down the street, slie beats time with her little hand." 
x\gain she wTote: ''You could not have given me more 
gladness than by telling me that I had been a sweeter 
daughter since m}^ marriage than I ever was before. 
God grant that I may nevermore give you a pain. Keep 
me in your heart; I know you will, darling, and pray 
constantly that my strength may more abundantly in- 
crease. A mother requires so much strength, mental, 
moral and physical to rear a family. Anna, even at her 
age, understands every word that is spoken to her, and 
I want to keep my strength for my children." Her 
most intimate friend said: "The last time I saw Julia, 
she was absorbed in her children, and told me that ^Anna 
already understood what the truth was, and inust speak 
it.' Her own truthfulness was certainly one of her most 
conspicuous traits, and she required it absolutely from 
others.'^ She had taught Anna w4io made her, before 
she could plainly speak the name of God, and before she 
was two years old, to lisp her prayers at her mother's 
knee. Her maternal heart was even more bound up in 
her son, who was from his birth an uncommonly large, 
promising child, and she felt that he must be her father's 
representative. She gave him the full name of his 
grandfather, Thomas Jonathan Jackson, but called him 
simply Jackson, and her most earnest desire was that he 
should indeed prove worthy of his priceless inheritance. 
She consecrated both her children to the Lord in bap- 
tism, and was resolved to bring them up for Him. In 
a letter to a Christian friend, she expressed her desire 
that her son should become a minister of the gospel. 
She described him as her "splendid, bright, rollicking 
boy, dimpled all over," and said her most ardent wish 


for him was tliat ho sliould he like her father. She 
intended, if she liad lived, to teach her chiklren herself, 
until they were at least twelve years old, wishing to 
imprint on them her best instructions in the formation 
of their characters. She deeply realized her responsi- 
bility as a parent, and was determined to train aright 
the immortal souls whom God had entrusted to her 

Anna was baptized at the age of six months, in the 
Presbyterian Church of San Diego, by the pastor, Eev. 
Dr. W. B. Xoble. Jackson received the sacred rite in 
his mother's arms, in her own home in Charlotte (being 
sick at the time and not able to be carried to the 
church), from the hands of Eev. Dr. A. W. Miller. 
Although her husband stood by her side, Julia preferred 
holding the child herself — his illness, and her fear of 
losing him, making him doubly precious to her heart. 
An eye-witness said: "I shall never forget her appear- 
ance as she came into the parlor, bearing Jackson in 
her arms and took her stand before the minister. She 
looked so lovely, and her whole heart seemed to be in 
the service. She was the impersonation of devoutness 
and consecration." This was only three months before 
she was herself translated to dwell among the angels. 

During her last j^ear's residence in Eichmond, she 
writes: "This morning I heard an eloquent sermon 
from Dr. Hoge, and I wished for you. The text was: 
The secret things belong unto the Lord our God, but 
those things which are revealed belong unto us and to 
our children forever.' His explanation of God's with- 
holding from us that which is beyond the grasp of our 
minds, was truly convincing. Could we but be content, 


resting upon our Father's faithful promises, we would 
not ask for the veil of futurity to be drawn aside, know- 
ing that God will lead us step by step through the 
shadows and past temptations, until the breaking of 
the morning light, and our star of faith is set in God's 
own firmament." In writing to her mother upon the 
death of a sister, she says : "Since the sad news came, I 
have not ceased longing to comfort j^ou, for every pain 
that comes into your heart, saddens mine, and your 
grief is also mine. I know now that God purifies His 
own until the spirit has life only in Him, and the flesh 
no longer craves earthly pleasures. I know that when 
in trouble, our Heavenly Father takes us close in His 
enfolding arms and lifts us above the world.'' Knowing 
her aunt's love for music, she sent an exquisite white 
floral lyre for her casket. 

When I was in Lexington one summer, she wrote me : 
"How I should enjoy seeing those glory-crowned moun- 
tains just as the sun is sinking behind them. As a 
child, and then in my girlhood, I have loved those 
mountains, especially as viewed from the cemetery, 
standing like sentinels guarding the sacred resting place 
of our dearest one.'' Again she wrote from Charlotte on 
the last anniversary of her father's death which she 
lived to see: "As this is Memorial Day, I have sent 
what flowers I had to the graves of our brave soldiers. 
How I wish I could place some upon my loved father's 
resting-place! That God may spare you to me many 
years, my darling mother, is my prayer this day." She 
closed another letter by saying: "Be happy, dearest 
of mothers, and trust our Father in Heaven. All is for 
the best." 


To her servants she was ever kind and just, and made 
them her friends by her politeness and consideration. 

In a letter to an aunt, she says : "You must not think 
me unappreciative of your sweet thought of me on my 
birthday, for you have never forgotten the day since my 
earliest childliood ! I know your boys must be a great 
pleasure to you, and I trust you may always find comfort 
and happiness in them. Napoleon said that ^Men are 
what their mothers make them,^ and it is certainly the 
nohlest part of a woman's duty to rear her sons io the 
nohlest aims hi life.^' 

During the exposition at Minneapolis, where she lived 
for a short time, she says: "I spent many charming 
hours in the art-rooms, and I often wished that you 
might be with me to enjoy the masterpieces of our 
finest American artists, knowing your fondness for 
everything pertaining to art." 

At San Diego, which was her home afterwards, she 
says : "Here we have the rare combination of mountain 
and ocean, which is very beautiful; and each morning, 
the islands rising mountain high in the midst of the 
ocean, assume different shapes, owing to the peculiar 
state of the atmosphere." 

Another friend there was, that noble Christian 
woman, Mrs. E. H. Brown of Eichmond, who never 
forgot Julia's birthday during all her life, and never 
failed to commemorate it with some little loving and 
useful token. 

In her quiet hours, when her maternal duties con- 
fined her at home, especially on Sundays, she spent 
much time in religious reading. She obeyed Christ's 
injunction to search the scriptures — her own Bible bear- 


ing marks of her close reading and application of 
favorite passages. The sermons of Frederick W. Eobert- 
son were a great delight and comfort to her, and many 
were the interlinings she made upon his pages. There 
seemed to be a peculiar sympathy and unison of feeling 
between the two souls. Thomas a Kempis' "Imitation 
of Christ/' she also read much, and it was marked in 
the same wa}^ although she did not endorse his asceii- 
cism, as the following will show: "Eise earl}-, watch, 
pray, labor, read, write, be silent, sigli, and bravely 
endure adversity,'' — she stroked out the word sigh and 
substituted, "Be ever cheerful." 

She believed it to be a duty, under all circmnstances, 
to cultivate cheerfulness, the sentiment appearing in her 
handwriting in a number of places in her note-book. 
Upon the fly-leaves of "Imitation of Christ," she wrote 
the following quotations : 

"None is made great by the voice of human praise." 
"We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths; 
in feelings, not in figures on a dial." "He most lives, 
who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best." 
"That man lives twice, that lives the first life well." 
"Life is not measured by the time we live." "To live 
in hearts we leave behind is not to die." 

"Death but a path that must be trod, 
If man would ever pass to God." 

"Live to God : Do your duty. Notliing is too late till 
the tired heart shall cease to palpitate." 

"Peace is found in seclusion from the world. Separ- 
ate from worldly affairs." "Let your thoughts be 


directed to God." "Niglit brings out stars, as sorrow 
brings out truths." 

In another place she wrote: "An English divine has 
beautifully portrayed the Christian as one on whose 
clear and open brow God has set the stamp of truth; 
one whose very eye beams bright with honor; in whose 
very look and bearing you may see freedom, manliness, 
veracity; a brave man; a noble man; frank, generous, 

"So close was his communion with his Heavenly 
Father, that all trials were received with perfect sub- 
mission, and no earthly pains had power to disturb that 
calmness, that 'inner rest,' which is deep as summer 
midnight, yet full of life and free as summer sunshine — 
the Sabbath of eternity." 

She then quotes from Mrs. Charles Kingsley's dedi- 
cation to her husband (evidently for my benefit in 
writing her father's life), words which are applicable 
alike to both : 

"Gentle and strong; modest and humble; tender and 

"To some it may seem treachery to lift the veil from 
the iimer life of a man, Avho, while here, hated the 
notoriety which he could not escape, and shrank from 
every approach of egotism." (How true was this of 
General Jackson !) "Continual resignation is the secret 
of continual strength." Again are found resolutions 
she had made "to hold communion only with Christ," 
and she speaks of the peace He gave her," when in 
prayer He lifts my heart up to the grand contemplation 
of Heaven's joys ! Oh ! the music of Heaven ! Tliere 
is also a touching prayer: "Oh! Christ, let me lean 


only on Thee; hide my poor little life in Thy great 
love and life." 

These are sacred, precious revelations, evincing her 
rapid ripening for the full fruition of joy and glory, 
upon which she was so soon to enter. She may have 
had a presentiment that she would die early, but if so, 
it cast no shadow or unhappiness upon her young life; 
though she "armed herself with jealous care, as in God's 
sight to live," she did so in brave cheerfulness, discharg- 
ing her tender duties with promptness and fidelity; her 
care and devotion to her children being the absorbing 
occupation of her life. But this did not render her 
indifferent or unmindful of outside obligations. She 
was kind and generous to the poor and suffering. She 
returned to Charlotte near the time of Thanksgiving, 
but even after her long journey from California, and 
with sick children, she did not forget to make her 
offering in the form of a basket of tropical fruits to a 
poor family. She imitated her father's system in 
"tithing" her money, and after her translation, an 
envelope was found among her effects, with this in- 
scribed upon it by her hand : "Devoted to the Lord — in 
case of my death, it must be given to suffering women 
and little children." 

Many other instances of her Christian consecration 
might be cited, but only one more will be given to show 
how her will was lost in that of her Heavenly Father. 
A few years before her death, at a time when I feared 
her life might be in danger, I told her how earnestly 
I was praying for her safety, and asked her if she was 
not also praying for the same end. Her reply was : "No, 
mother, I only pray that God's will may be done." 


The scenes of her last illness and death are too har- 
rowing to dwell upon, but for her children's sake a brief 
outline will be given: 

During the spring preceding, Jackson had a long and 
serious illness, and she then wrote to a near connection : 
"I have given the precious boy to God. If he spares his 
life, I shall try to direct his mind so that he may doYote 
his life to the Master. I can only say, 'Thy will be 
done.' I have given him entirely to the Lord." This 
illness of her cherished boy was such a strain upon both 
her m^ental and physical strength, that she was much 
broken down by it. Afterwards she went off several 
times for a change, but in no instance did she stay long 
enough to gain substantial benefit. Her last visit was 
to Cleveland Springs but, feeling indisposed, she re- 
turned at the end of a week, against remonstrance, to 
seek that care and comfort which she found most to 
abound in her own home. 

That dread disease, typhoid fever, was then lurking 
in her system, but she did not take her bed for another 
week, and even after doing so, she seemed so slightly 
ill for the first two weeks, that her physician hoped the 
attack would prove a mild one. From the first, however, 
my heart ,was weighed down with intense apprehension, 
fearing she had not the strength to battle with an 
insidious disease; but she was very cheerful, natural 
and even playful at times — never having delirium or 
any distressing symptoms. At first, to relieve the 
tedium, she read some herself, but afterwards we read 
to her, and she enjoyed listening almost to the last. 
In the beginning she was interested in light literature, 
but she often asked to have the Bible and hymns read to 


her, gradually desiring nothing else, and she loved to 
hear hymns sung. The last two chapters of Revelation, 
which are descriptive of Heaven, had long been favorites 
of hers, and she called for them repeatedly, but during 
the whole of her illness, she did not speak of death, 
and was calm and composed, showing only by her 
increased devotion and delight in religious exercises, 
that her mind was absorbed in spiritual things. But 
after such a life as hers, no dying testimony was needed, 
and nothing was said to her on the subject, feeling as 
we did no anxiety on that score, and as long as there 
was a thread of hope for her precious life, we durst not 
break that thread by running the risk of the least 
excitement. She was critically ill only the last week. 
Almost every day the little children w^re brought to 
her room for a brief visit, as it pleased and cheered 
her so to see them. Several times Anna came in with 
some offering, saying, "Mamma, I bought you a flower," 
and once it was an egg she had found, and which she 
thought her dear mother could eat. Jackson was gener- 
ally carried to a window in front of her bed, and shown 
off to her by disporting himself (which he invariably 
did) like a kitten, with a cord attached to the window- 
shade. His mother delighted more in this picture than 
any that came before her eyes. On the last day she spent 
with us, which was the little fellow's first birthday, she 
seemed specially to admire him in his playful glee, and 
before he was taken out, she asked that he might bo 
placed on the bed beside her, and slie was so perfect ly 
herself, as she said : '^Jackson, you arc so sweet," and 
she smiled so fondly and tenderly upon him, that \vc 
could not realize that those were to be her last smiles on 


earth. During her sickness she was particularly pleased 
when flowers were sent to her, and a vase was kept all 
the time within her view. The last night, when her 
extreme prostration rendered her almost unconscious 
of her surroundings, she said: ^'Gather the flowers, 
all of them, and pile them up high" — showing the 
purity and beauty of her thoughts. 

To her agonized mother, she was from the first all 
tenderness, gratitude and devotion, frequently asking 
me to kiss her, and telling me how much she loved me. 
Once she said : "You do too much for me, darling, more 
than I am worth." 

As gently and peacefully as an infant sinks to slumber, 
her pure and blessed spirit took its flight to that 
Heavenly Home where her father's arms were doubtless 
waiting to receive her on the morning of the 30th of 
August, 1889. 

Here my full heart would fain stop, but it is due to 
her dear memory, w^hich called forth so many testi- 
monials of love and esteem from friends far and near, 
to weave them in as a part of her history. 

A year or two before her last illness, and wben she 
was in her usual health, she requested me, in case of 
her death, to have her buried by her father's grave in 
Lexington. Her wish was, of course, carried out, but 
before leaving Charlotte, a funeral service was held in 
the First Presbyterian Church. The following account 
in the place where she breathed her last, is from a Char- 
lotte newspaper : 

"The funeral services were conducted at the First 
Presbyterian Church, with military honors. All the 


stores in town were closed in her honor, and thousands 
came to pay a last tribute to her memory. 

"The floral decorations in the church were magnifi- 

"In the midst of vases of the most beautiful flowers, 
and covered with floral wreaths and crosses, was placed 
the casket, directly in front of the pulpit. 

"Most conspicuous of all was the Confederate flag, 
suspended from the great arch in the rear of the pulpit, 
its lower folds caught up and held slightly by spans of 
ivy. This same old flag had enfolded the body of the 
gallant father in the last funeral rites, and was unfurled 
once more over the remains of his only daughter. The 
pulpit was almost concealed beneath a profusion of 
w^hite roses and grasses. On either side of the pulpit, 
guns were stacked and entwined with vines and flowers. 
Crossed swords covered with roses added to the effect of 
the scene. Just below, and in front of the pulpit, was 
^Stonewall' Jackson's sword, wTeathed in roses. The 
Hornets' Nest Riflemen, with flag all tattered and torn 
in Confederate service and draped in crape, acted as a 
guard of honor. The church was filled to overflowing, 
when in soft, mournful strains, the choir opened the 
services by singing 'De Profundis' — ^Out of the depths 
have I cried unto Thee, Lord.' After prayer, and the 
reading of the first part of the 19th Psalm, the choir 
again sang: '^0 God, our help in ages past.' Eev. 
Edward Mack and Eev. E. C. Eeed, delivered brief, but 
feeling and appropriate addresses, the former taking 
for his text: *Let me die the death of the righteous 
and let my last end be like his.' 


"The final hymn sung was : "^How blest the righteous 
when he dies/ 

"The silver plate on the casket bore this inscription: 

" 'Born November 23rd, 1862, 
Julia Jackson Christian, 
Died August 30th, 1889/ " 

A private car was tendered by the Eichmond and 
Danville Eailroad, and the day following, we started 
on our sad, sad mission, and her precious remains w^ere 
laid to rest by her father^s side, on Sunday, the 1st of 
September. A Lexington paper gives the following : 

"As the procession moved up town (from the depot), 
the tolling bell solemnly vibrating, the sorrowful cortege 
and the crowd of bowed heads, made a scene of marked 
sadness. The casket, in which rested all that was niortal 
of 'Stonewall's' child, was taken to the Presbyterian 
Church, and placed at the chancel. Choice flowers, the 
offerings of friends, came from all sections to cover her 
over. The silent visitors and Confederate heroes that 
reverently passed the bier in the dim soft light, im- 
pressed all with the solemnity and quietness of death. 
A sweet expression had left the countenance as if in 
repose, and those who availed themselves of taking one 
last look at the sweet face, shed tears of sorrow." One 
remarked that it was 'like beautiful wax w^ork,' in its 
purity and transparency — the body having been em- 
balmed, was perfectly preserved. 

"A detail of prominent citizens, representing the 
friends and old soldiers, guarded the remains through 


the night watch. Sunday morning the church was 
crowded with the members of all denominations from all 
walks of life, the old soldiers being specially noticeable. 
After the choir sang a voluntary, 'Abide with me/ the 
pastor, Eev. Dr. T. L. Preston, opened the services with 
prayer, followed by hymn 193: 'Come to Jesus.' A 
prayer by Eev. Dr. E. D. Junkin was a most touching 
and earnest appeal to the throne. Dr. Preston preached 
a practical, appropriate sermon, and his remarks touch- 
ing upon the personal and religious character of the 
deceased, brought tears into the eyes of many. He said 
that no hamlet, village, town or city in the Confederacy 
was in deeper sorrow than Lexington to-day at the death 
of this child of 'StonewalF Jackson. He said, 'they have 
brought her here to rest under the shade of the trees, 
to be guarded by the tender affection, love and reverence 
of a patriotic people, who honor the illustrious name of 
her distinguished father.' As the funeral procession 
moved out of the church, the choir sang, 'Asleep in 
Jesus,' in a most touching manner." 

Some weeks after her burial, we found in a Bible a 
request in her handwriting that the hymn, "I heard the 
voice of Jesus say, come unto me and rest," should be 
sung at her funeral, but the discovery was not made in 
time to fulfill her wish, which otherwise would have 
been sacredly regarded. 

At the cemeter}^, as the daughter was laid where she 
had wished to sleep, beside her father, the plaintive notes 
of "Kock of Ages," added a solemnity that was felt in 
the sternest hearts. Many battle-scarred veterans of the 
Confederacy, with heads bowed, in tears, watched the 
remains laid at rest. The grave was covered with 


wreatlis, bouquets, crosses, and at the lieatl, a pillow in 
white roses, on which was set in purple flowers: "Julia." 
A large cross sent from Eichmond adorned General 
Jackson's grave. 

The following appeared in several papers : 


"The death of no other private individual could, have 
excited the great interest and caused the pangs of deep 
regret over the wide expanse of this Southern country 
that the one we to-da}^ record produces. 

"No other reminder so sad could have come to the 
old soldiers, or to the admirers of ^StonewalP Jackson 
as the death of his only child. The children of great 
men, usually, only have the association in the minds 
of the people as being the offspring of their parents. 
But in Julia Jackson's case it was different. Her tender 
years, and her extreme infancy at the time of the death 
of her father, the touching and peculiar circumstances 
of his last sight of her; his death in the maturity of his 
fame and in the very zenith of his renown, and amidst 
his heroic deeds; the crisis and decline of the cause; all 
tended to draw the attention of his men to his infant 
child, and in the minds and affections of his scarred and 
battle-worn heroes, she became the 'Child of the Lost 
Cause.' She has always held a place in their esteem 
and has excited an interest and commanded a respect 
from the Confederate veterans which has been accorded 
to no other person outside of the army itself. 

"She, too, has 'passed over the Eiver' and sleeps — 


rests in the sweet, still repose of our beautiful valley 
beside the remains of her illustrious father, at the home 
he loved so well in life." 

From the Central Presbyterian. 


"There are strains of music wonderfully beautiful, 
which yet seem incomplete. They touch within us 
chords unreached by more finished compositions; they 
arouse desires, aspirations, for we know not what, some- 
thing beyond, above us, something vaguely beautiful. 
We strive to put ourselves in the artist's place; we have 
a great, wild yearning to know more of his idea ; to know 
why he left unfinished this thing of wondrous beauty — 
why the thought seems suggested only — to lie forever in- 
complete. Such to human eyes seems the life which 
has just ended — the life over which a nation mourns — 
that of Julia Jackson. None but those who knew her 
well had any conception of the immense possibilities 
within her. Talents of very high order lay concealed, 
talents, which developed, might have made for her a 
name independent of the great name she bore because 
of her father's deeds. It might well be said to be the 
irony of fate that her inherited gTeatness should have 
stood in the way of her personal development. Had 
she been the daughter of an obscure man, had she 
lived a quiet life and been, from earliest years, less the 
nation's darling, few women of our country would have 
stood out more conspicuously for grandeur of character, 
and, perhaps, for literary fame. Her father's noble char- 


acter was distinctly hers. Truth, generosity, fortitude, 
bravery, an abhorrence of meanness, large capacity for 
self-denial — these were the distinguishing traits of her 
whom sorrowing friends have just laid to rest. Were 
not all these conspicuous in our own loved Southern 
hero? She was not called to fight on battle-fields for a 
country's freedom, but there are silent conflicts in every 
life, battles to be fought and won, in which gentle 
women are called to prove their heroism. But the lyre lies 
broken — the strain is unfinished. The beauty of the .life, 
the noble thoughts it inspired are only a memory. Will 
it never be finished ? Ah ! yes, now that the ashen gar- 
ments have fallen, she can 'resume the broken strain, 
without let or thrall.^ Now she will know as she is 
known; now, seeing no longer through a glass darkly, 
but face to face with the Saviour she so much loved, she 
will be transformed into the same image from glory to 
glory. Day by day — hour by hour — she will grow more 
like Him, and the development for which we longed, 
which was so confidently expected, will be broader, 
wider, deeper than had ever been dreamed of. At best, 
here the life could have been but imperfect; there it 
will reach infinite perfection. 

"Quietly the body lies sleeping amid the everlasting 
hills of beautiful Lexington, close to her father, cov- 
ered with flowers, the last tribute of love and friendship. 
Unfinished we call her life, cut off in the midst of beau- 
tiful, useful womanhood. But the Master artist leaves 
nothing incomplete. The music begun here will be 
finished there, gloriously, perfectly. 

"How we love to dwell on the resurrection morning, 
when this mortal shall have put on immortality, this 


corruptible incorrnption; when, without fault or blem- 
ish, we shall behold our loved ones — complete at last, 
clothed in the Saviour's righteousness, perfect as He is 
perfect." "M." 


"She peacefully sleeps by the warrior's side. 

This child of the warrior's love ; 
While ^the Mother of States' weeps in sorrow again. 

The angels are chanting above. 

The father and child are united forever, 

The spirit from bondage God frees. 
On wings of his love she has "^crossed o'er the river,' 

And rests ^neath the shade of the trees." 

(Mrs. Wm. Jones in "Atlanta Constitution.") 

Many letters of condolence were received from Con- 
federate officers, widows of officers, old soldiers, friends 
and strangers. Also a number of military associations, 
including the E. E. Lee Camp, the Eichmond Howitzers, 
Grand Camp of Norfolk, First Alabama Eegiment, Com- 
panies of New^ Orleans, Georgia, and perhaps other 
States, sent resolutions of respect and sympathy, all 
couched in language of devoted loyalty and love for 
the memories of both the father and daughter. The 
number of these tributes was so large that only a few 
extracts are culled from them, those relating to Julia 
alone. The first is from the pen of a yoimg man of 
Eichmond : 


"I was on the ocean when I saw in a paper the 
announcement of the death of your sweet and beloved 
daughter. My wish was that 1 might be on land, in 
order to get to Lexington and be among those who paid 
their last tribute to her memory. It is customary, in 
speaking of such assemblages, to call them 'the last 
tribute,' and yet I know, in this instance, there can be 
no *last tribute' paid to the memory of the beautiful 
young spirit whose sphere of existence has been changed 
in accordance with a divine plan, for to mention her 
name hereafter will be to pay her tribute, and with me 
the last tribute can only be paid when I have ceased to 
live. I have recalled for my gratfication, over and over 
again, the recollection of her when she lived in Rich- 
mond. Her friendship I prized as a cherished posses- 
sion. Her gentle and unselfish nature, her sunny pres- 
ence, her charity of mind, impressed me from the first, 
and more intimate acquaintance with her but deepened 
these impressions, so that I have looked upon her friend- 
ship as gainful to me in the highest sense. How true 
and loyal she was to all that was good, noble and gener- 
ous, was not better known than I knew it." 

The next is from a Presbyterian minister: "You 
know how fond I used to be of little Julia — and of Miss 
Julia — and how I have always admired and thought 
much of your lovely and remarkable child, whether 
under these names or her married title. I am sure you 
remember how, when she was a little thing in Lexington, 
she one day sprang into my lap (with the decision and 
celerity of the General himself), when she saw me hiding 
my face in my hands and pretending to cr}^, and then 


threw her arms around my neck and kissed me ! I can 
see her before me now as she rode up to me one day on 
Eex, and asked me to name him for her. The name I 
suggested did not comport with her ideas of his nobility. 
It was Miss Mildred Lee (was it not?) who afterwards 
hit upon his felicitous appellation. Maybe you can call 
to mind a conversation you and I once had about Julia, 
in which I ventured upon a minute description between 
the color of her eyes, and of her father^ s, to which you 
yourself assented. What a wonderful resemblance to be 
sure there was between them, not only in outline and 
expression of the countenance, but in traits of mind 
and character. I have lost a true and valued friend — 
in some respects the living image of the immortal man 
who was your husband ! But — what is my loss to yours ? 
Absolutely nothing. May God comfort and strengthen 

"The secret of eternity contains many a lesson of 
Christ's discipline of his saints on the earth; and many 
a sweet, a noble, a precious, a rarely gifted and promis- 
ing life was arrested, that it might be resumed and 
rounded out in heaven. '^ 

A young cousin of hers wrote: "When I think of 
Julia, as I can remember her, from the time she was a 
baby in Hetty's arms, to the last time I saw her, looking 
so pretty and blooming, she seems to me one of the 
sweetest and noblest of women. I can recall so many 
incidents of our childhood, so characteristic of her 
truthfulness, her purity of mind, her generosity, and 
her ardent, affectionate nature." 

The next is from a friend of her girlhood: "That 


the beautiful, joyous, radiant young life, that on my 
wedding day threw its gladness around me for the l?pt 
time, has gone above, to shine forth more beautiful and 
radiant than ever, I cannot realize. I shall always 
think of her in the fresh bloom of girlhood, her eyes 
sparkling, her cheeks aglow with health and happiness, 
surrounded by a room full of admiring friends. I seem 
to hear the quick, bright answer with which she met 
each remark. The impression she made in Charleston 
then makes her death not only a national sorrow, but a 
personal one to many. Some day, we know not how 
soon, we, too, will join 

"Earth's pure-hearted ones, walking in white, 
Under the shade of the trees.'' 

A mother who had a similar bereavement, wrote: 
"What strange creatures we are! As a maiden, when 
she received so many public demonstrations of interest 
and admiration, every Southern heart thrilled with pride 
and pleasure. Now, when she is called by the King of 
Kings, to be crowned with immortal beauty and glory, 
and to meet the sainted father, whose last smile rested 
upon her infantile face, our heads are bowed in sorrow, 
and we question the goodness of God, in taking one so 
young, and so essential to the happiness of others." 

A yoimg ministerial friend said: "Her life was one 
which developed very rapidly the Christian graces, and 
her spiritual womanhood seemed to have quickly ma- 
tured, so that she was being prepared for her early 
exchange of earth's trials for Heaven's blessedness and 


glory. I have often thought of the father's glad wel- 
come to his ^darling.' " 

From St. Paul and Minneapolis comes the next. One 
lady with whom she lived in the same house, said : "I 
never admired and loved any one I ever met in my life 
more than I did your darling daughter." 

Another wrote: "I learned to love her sweet, bright 
face, and winsome manners, when she lived across the 
way from us. I shall always be glad that I knew her, 
even for a little while. '^ 

A warm Southerner in Minneapolis: "Thousands, 
who never saw her, are mourning for her to-da}^, for 
the daughter of our immortal chieftain is enshrined 
in the heart of every loyal Southerner, and in their 
sorrow for her, they mourn afresh the loss of their 
beloved General, and bury again that precious Lost 
Cause. We, who were privileged to know her, have a 
deeper sting to our grief, and mourn in personal bereave- 
ment. We all remember her with so much pleasure — 
her fair face; her lovely character. She was one of 
those precious ones whom we take into our hearts and 
weave into our lives. Her loss is great and far-reaching, 
for though Faith clasps the promise, and Hope points 
upward, yet our hearts are heavy, and our sunshine 

Our California friends also showed their sorrow for 
lier, one saying: ''I can recall the gentle, kindly, love- 
able woman, and I feel sure that 'oi such is the King- 
dom of Heaven.' 'Blessed are the pure in heart, for 


they shall see God.' Heroic husband and beloved 
daughter are united. I belieye that you can see 

"The stars shine through your cypress trees.'' 

Another wrote : "In expressing my heartfelt sympa- 
th}', I only give voice to the same sorrow that reigns 
tliroughout the South — a sorrow that is as deep as was 
the love for General Jackson." 

Our pastor, Eev. Dr. Miller, wrote from London, and 
after expressing his profound sorrow and sympathy, 
went on to say: "That Sunday afternoon scene in your 
home, when she stood up before me and presented her 
l)abe for baptism, has been frequently before my mind 
since, and contemplated with a tender pleasure. Would 
that I could have had the sad privilege of ministering 
to her through the closing scene ! But I know that the 
Angel of the Everlasting Covenant was with her, com- 
forting her with sweet assurances of His presence and 
His love, and, folding her in His gentle arms, bore her to 
His happy home above. I felt a deep interest in her, 
not only for her dear mother's and illustrious father's 
sakes, but as being a lamb of my flock, received by me 
into the full communion of the church, a precious lamb, 
to whom was given the Shepherd's tender love. And the 
dear little lambs she left ! Oh ! may the gracious Heav- 
enly Father watch OA'er them ever with a yearning affec- 
tion, guard them unceasingly from every snare, and lead 
them into the green pastures and beside the still waters 
of His church above, is the prayer of their loving