The Death March Of Stonewall

Dr. McGuire, Lt. General Thomas J. “Stonewall” Jackson’s medical doctor

and surgeon gave this report as to the final words of the great general.

{A few moments before he died he cried out, "Order A.P. Hill to prepare for action! Pass the infantry to the front! Tell Major Hawks"……then stopped, leaving the sentence unfinished. Presently a smile of sweetness spread itself over his face, and he said quietly, and with an expression, as if he was relieved, "Let us cross over the river, and rest under the shade of the trees."}

The Angels of death glided from above
And surrounded him while in flight,
While they shouted orders with shining love
And respect in gleaming light.
The General's dead body was guarded with a ring
Of Angelic spirits with songs to sing
As the Gray Soldiers were held in thrall
To the death march of Stonewall.

At the capital the lamented general lay in state
As Southern Patriots passed and grieved.
All impaired their vision to relate
Cried with the Angels for they surely believed
That all was not well this solemn day
While millions fell to their knees to pray
As the Gray Soldiers were held in thrall
To the death march of Stonewall.

The winged Seraphs coveted his soul
Into God's Dwelling a meaningful rest
He bows before the Father and obtains his goal
And never failed the relentless test.
Throughout the South this sorrowful time
Is thought to be a dreaded crime
As the Gray Soldiers were held in thrall
To the death march of Stonewall.

Fair maidens of the South in mornfull pause
Kissed the coffin where he lay
And Judged the fall of their mighty Cause
On the South's darkest day.
The officers saluted their mighty chief
And Generals gazed in disbelief
As the Gray Soldiers were held in thrall
To the death march of Stonewall.

The Southern Flag o'er his casket would lay
And Anna in black would silently morn
While Davis and Lee would openly pray
The Stonewall Brigade would forever be torn.
The South wore its scars from that terrible night
And the General will never return to the fight
As the Gray Soldiers were held in thrall
To the death march of Stonewall.

For two more years the lightning would light
The battle torn fields of grain and corn
And even at the end there was still much fight
Left in the hearts of the Southern born.
Forever in lore his legend was made
And he crossed the river to "rest in the shade"
As the Gray Soldiers were held in thrall
To the death march of Stonewall.