intrinsic interest of my subject, many of the following chapters will
be found excessively dull by civilian readers. Stonewall Jackson's
military career was not all hard fighting; nor was it on the
battlefield alone that his supreme ability for war was made manifest.
His time and thoughts were more occupied by strategy, that is, by
combinations made out of the enemy's sight, than by tactics, that is,
by manoeuvres executed in the enemy's presence. But strategy,
unfortunately, is an unpopular science, even among soldiers,
requiring both in practice and in demonstration constant and careful
study of the map, the closest computation of time and space, a grasp
of many factors, and the strictest attention to the various steps in
the problems it presents. At the same time, it is a science which
repays the student, although he may have no direct concern with
military affairs; for not only will a comprehension of its immutable
principles add a new interest to the records of stirring times and
great achievements, but it will make him a more useful citizen.

In free countries like Great Britain, her colonies, and the United
States, the weight of intelligent opinion, in all matters of moment,
generally turns the scale; and if it were generally understood that,
in regular warfare, success depends on something more than rank and
experience, no Government would dare entrust the command of the army
to any other than the most competent soldier. The campaigns of the
Civil War show how much may be achieved, even with relatively feeble
means, by men who have both studied strategy and have the character
necessary for its successful practice; and they also show, not a whit
less forcibly, what awful sacrifices may be exacted from a nation
ignorant that such a science exists. And such ignorance is
widespread. How seldom do we hear a knowledge of strategy referred to
as an indispensable acquirement in those who aspire to high command?