Rebel Yell: The Violence, Passion, and Redemption of Stonewall Jackson by S. C. Gwynne (review)

Stonewall Jackson was an enigmatic man whose complexity and contradictions have contributed to his enduring fame. His legendary piety and trust in God’s providence coincided with a ferocious ruthlessness in combat. He was capable of deeply affectionate gestures in private and was renowned for his kindness, but early in the Civil War he espoused a campaign to burn Baltimore and Philadelphia. He was ambitious but discomfited as his fame grew exponentially. He was taciturn, rarely revealing his thoughts or plans to subordinates, but he had Robert E. Lee’s unbridled confidence. He also held Old Testament views about warfare. Speaking to two staff members after the Battle of Fredericksburg, he commented on how horrible war was; yet when his surgeon commented that the South had been invaded and asked, “What can we do?” Jackson tersely replied, “Kill them, sir. Kill every man” (503).

In Rebel Yell, S. C. Gwynne is the latest author to take on this formidable subject, and he tells Thomas J. Jackson’s story with verve and style. He does not follow a chronological approach; instead he introduces Jackson at the beginning of the Civil War. Not until the fourteenth chapter does he delve into Jackson’s difficult upbringing, his devotion to his sister Laura, and his successive marriages to Ellie Junkin (who died in childbirth) and Anna Morrison. Along the way, we learn of Jackson’s religious philosophy, his many ailments (which abated during the war), his struggles at West Point, his Mexican War service, and his failures as a Virginia Military Institute instructor.

Gwynne fittingly devotes the majority of his book to Jackson’s Civil War exploits. Jackson emerges as an audacious risk-taker, a man with strict, inflexible ideas about duty who brooked no dissent from subordinates, and an early proponent of “hard war.” Gwynne, while clearly admiring Jackson, is even-handed in his assessment. Jackson could be self-righteous and defiant toward superiors. His treatment of Gen. Richard Garnett after the Battle of Kernstown was deplorable, and Gwynne notes that Jackson’s performance during the Peninsula campaign suffered because the man was physically and mentally exhausted. Yet Jackson’s flaws (and there were others) were more than offset by his martial prowess. Gwynne masterfully traces Jackson’s wartime career and the factors that made him unique. Had he died after the Shenandoah Valley campaign of spring 1862, he would still be famous. As it was, when he died in May 1863 after being wounded at Chancellorsville, he was a celebrity and household name both North and South.

Gwynne explicitly compares Jackson’s demise to Abraham Lincoln’s and finds commonalities in the grief that accompanied their deaths and how both were struck down at the height of their achievement and power. The nation collectively expressed anguish over the war, its incalculable misery and loss, as they mourned first Jackson and then Lincoln. Southerners condemned Lincoln’s assassination, and Gwynne cites northerners who had been touched by Jackson’s death two years earlier. This note of redemption—of Jackson as an American, not strictly southern hero—may be a bit overstated. Many a Federal soldier cheered lustily when he heard that Stonewall Jackson was dead.

This is not a book easily digested in one sitting, but it does clearly beckon readers to return as soon as possible. Some may note that Gwynne was originally a journalist and quibble at his credentials, but he is in a long line of Civil War authors who were not formal academics, including Bruce Catton and Shelby Foote. Like them, Gwynne writes briskly and engagingly. He is particularly adroit at describing the personalities of various individuals and his accounts of battles and campaigns are vivid and illuminating. The maps are a tremendous complement to the text. Gwynne acknowledged the assistance of several historians, including Peter Cozzens, John Hennessy, and Robert K. Krick, all authors of major...