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The minister, the martyr, and the maxim: Robert Lewis Dabney and Stonewall Jackson biography.

When he died in 1898, Presbyterian theologian Robert Lewis Dabney seemed to have been left behind by a New South that increasingly embraced economic progress, theological liberalism, and sectional conciliation. His authorized biographer, Thomas C. Johnson, presented Dabney as "a man who was at war with much of his age" in describing his battles with "evolution ... jacobinism ... [and] mobocracy." The Rev. Benjamin Palmer declared that Dabney held to his belief that scripture sanctioned slavery "to the day of his death." (1) Some contemporaries were proud of the intellectual legacy of a man whom eminent Presbyterian thinker Charles Hodge once called the "greatest living teacher of theology." According to one eulogist, Dabney had created not only a "splendid literature," but would live through the large company of ministers he had trained in almost four decades teaching theology at Hampden-Sydney College. (2) To Palmer, Dabney's death marked the end of the Old South, as "those who stood by his side, fighting for the truth of God in his generation are standing at the edge of their own graves opening at their feet." (3) The image of Dabney as an archconservative warrior for the Lost Cause has been described by many historians, and was perhaps best captured by Gaines Foster, who has argued that Dabney retained an "almost feudal faith in a hierarchical society" long after the Civil War. (4)

Dabney's prominence as a spokesman of the Lost Cause movement derived from two sources: his undisputed intellectual prowess and his place as an associate of Stonewall Jackson. The two men's wives were first cousins, and Dabney briefly served as Jackson's chief-of-staff in the Shenandoah Valley campaign and Seven Days Battles outside Richmond. After Jackson's death, the general's widow commissioned the theologian to write Jackson's authorized biography. (5) Written as the Confederacy collapsed, Dabney's Life and Campaigns of Lt. General T. J. (Stonewall) Jackson quickly took its place as a preeminent book on the subject after its publication in 1866. For a generation, Americans viewed it as the authoritative work on the general.

Dabney's work shaped the agendas of pioneering military historians, and continues to influence professional scholarship on the enigmatic Jackson. William Allan, a veteran of Jackson's Shenandoah Valley campaign and author of a thoroughly researched history of Jackson's operations there, which remains in print, described himself as "indebted ... especially to the earliest and very valuable biography by his former chief of staff, Dr. Dabney." (6) Sarah N. Randolph, a Lost Cause activist and granddaughter of Thomas Jefferson, acknowledged in her widely read 1874 Jackson biography the "great assistance" she received from Dabney's book. In some instances, she followed it so closely that "but for the frank acknowledgement" she would be "almost ... liable to the charge of plagiarism." When the general's widow published her 1895 Memoirs of Stonewall Jackson, at times she did little more than "paraphrase" Dabney's earlier book. British staff officer G. V. R. Henderson, whose classic 1898 book was the first Jackson biography written with access to the Official Records of the war, praised Dabney, who cooperated in the preparation of Henderson's book, for his "conspicuous ability." More than thirty years after the publication of Dabney's life of Jackson, Henderson noted that the book "is so complete and powerful that the need for a successor is not at once apparent." (7) In the twentieth century, renowned Confederate historian Douglass Southall Freeman criticized Dabney for taking a "moralizing" approach to his subject. Yet Freeman too offered high praise for the "essential accuracy of the book," and described Dabney as "the first distinguished Confederate biographer." Subsequent historians have treated Dabney as a sometimes unreliable but still indispensable source. (8)

Too often, however, historians have misunderstood Dabney. The conventional portrait of this theologian depicts him as an irreconcilable old fogy of the Lost Cause. This image was cultivated by Dabney himself, who produced abundant postbellum writings that defended the bygone values of an organic society based on social conservatism and slavery. This polemical and theological outpouring captures only part of the legacy of this complex thinker, however. (9) In the postbellum period, Dabney did oppose social innovations from public schooling to trade unions to the theory of evolution. But that he was not exactly an irreconcilable opponent of progress is evident in his Jackson biography, which portrays the general as an upwardly mobile figure worthy of a Horatio Alger story. While Dabney's book lauds the general as a pious martyr and Christian master, it also depicts a strikingly modern man characterized by his work ethic, ambition, and evangelical zeal. Two competing themes--the sacred nature of Jackson's martyrdom and the ethic of professionalism central to the nineteenth-century military--dominate Dabney's portrait of Jackson. As the Gilded Age progressed, subsequent versions of Jackson's life would deemphasize Dabney's portrait of Jackson as a martyr and highlight instead his ambition and social mobility. While Dabney fated to convincingly depict Jackson as a Christian martyr to a sacred cause, his portrait of Jackson's professionalism and self-control would prove crucial to shaping the general's image in the work of subsequent biographers.

That Dabney would emphasize Jackson's upward mobility and professionalism was only natural given the theologian's own career in the remarkably modern world of antebellum Virginia, where an expanding market system transformed the state beginning in the 1830s. (10) Dabney was born in 1820 to a slaveholding family in Louisa County in Virginia's eastern Piedmont. His father died when he was thirteen, leaving his mother with only a modest legacy. After his father's death, Dabney faced an insecure economic future, which placed a premium on the achievement of personal success. As he began his career as a student at Hampden-Sydney College in 1836, Dabney exhibited personal traits crucial to that success: a strong work ethic and sense of personal ambition. (11)

Dabney made his personal profession of faith in the Presbyterian Church during a revival at Hampden-Sydney in September 1837. While Old School Presbyterians such as Dabney rejected the doctrines of free will preached by Baptists and Methodists, they imbibed from revivalism an enthusiastic "religious populism" which blended individualism in matters of faith with conformity to Victorian social mores. As William G. Shade has suggested in his history of antebellum Virginia, Presbyterians adapted to the outburst of religious feeling, making their distinctive contribution by emphasizing a powerful vision of religious reformation and economic prosperity that underlay popular morality "in the heart of the Old Dominion." (12)

In his Jackson biography, the upwardly mobile minister Dabney returned to the topic of one of his earliest student essays written before his profession of faith-ambition. While many argued that personal ambition could have socially destructive consequences, including war, the young Dabney saw matters differently. He argued that the "ambition which pervades a nation, is usually directed to the national good ... the greatest ambition is not incompatible with benevolence." The ambitious man could seek to do good and thereby win "the acclamation of a grateful multitude." For the young Dabney, no man personified the virtues of benevolent ambition more than James Madison: "We see him with the determination that he would not be idle, contributing his share to the improvement of young countrymen." (13) Dabney portrayed a Madison whose work ethic underscored an interlocking commitment to the values of personal achievement and the public good. Dabney's encomium to Madison drew on a new vocabulary of individualism and self-reliance increasingly typical of a society that emphasized values of "industry, order, perseverance, and enterprise." Such habits of industry were more than a way to earn one's independence; they were an essential means of forming character. (14) Madison and Jackson's stories both captured values of hard work and public-spirited virtue cherished by Dabney.

While a student at the University of Virginia in the 1840s, Dabney found himself at odds with the sons of Virginia's gentry, who often flouted the values of piety and industry that he cherished. He criticized students who were devoted to foolish notions of "their honour and independence." Dabney's disenchantment with the code of honor led him to identify with evangelical piety and self-control. Repelled by the decadence of his privileged classmates, Dabney embraced the temperance movement, a new cause that embodied the spirit of reform in antebellum America. Temperance buttressed his innate drive and self-discipline, a trait captured in his 1855 remark that "work has long been a second nature to me." (15)

Dabney's commitment to hard work ultimately paid off, producing genuine personal progress. After struggling as a teacher and beginning minister, he played a central role in establishing the Union Theological Seminary at Hampden-Sydney as a leading educational institution of Presbyterian clerics. By 1859, he earned more than twenty-five hundred dollars a year and held four slaves, including two house servants. His rising stature in the Presbyterian Church had brought him a growing public reputation and offers for prestigious posts at Princeton and in New York. (16) Yet Dabney's correspondence emphasizes that his progress came only as the fruit of long and hard labor. The cleric rose within a strikingly modern denominational bureaucracy, which included newspapers and colleges that valued ideals such as social mobility. (17) In his unpublished autobiography, written in the 1890s, the author recorded both his spiritual progress and rising social status. The extraordinary precision with which he recalled matters such as salaries, endowments, and investments suggests not only a keen memory, but also an acute consciousness about wordly measures of social status. Dabney's elation at his rising social position is evidenced in a letter he wrote in 1860 in which he jokingly described himself as an "old codger ... driven by his own nigger, & beside his own wife, with nothing to do with his great brown hands, but play gentleman."is In describing himself as a "gentleman," the once-struggling minister signaled his knowledge that he had arrived.

One historian has aptly dubbed prosperous clerics such as Dabney the "Gentleman Theologians"--a term that emphasized the manner in which they gained wealth and status by marshalling intellectual prestige for their denominations. Unlike evangelicals who emphasized the spiritual equality of all believers, men such as Dabney embraced both the market system and competitive economics. Like many nineteenth-century southern clerics, Dabney embodied a seeming paradox: he embraced upward mobility based on "personal control" even as he elaborated a "hierarchical" vision of the church and society. (19)

In 1860, Dabney's professional position in a national denomination buttressed his initial position as a sectional moderate. While many clerics embraced what historian Mitchell Snay calls the "religious logic of secession," Dabney's belief in evangelical values of self-control and ties to the national church led him to denounce the passions he associated with secession and Civil War. He instead favored a policy of "righteousness, and manly forbearance" against sectional insult, a stance which placed him in opposition to men who saw the coming war as a test of honor. (20) After secession, the theologian admitted in an April 1861 letter that he and his fellow Christians worked for compromise "until the very verge of dishonor was touched." Dabney's words suggest that he believed he had gone as far as he could in opposing war. (21)

In 1861, Dabney entered Confederate service as a chaplain, but his place within the world of soldiers remained ambiguous. While the Confederate government paid lip service to the ideal of the soldier-preacher, it only reluctantly provided for chaplains and never treated them as an integral part of army life. Angered at being denied the right to ride his horse, which he had brought to the front himself, he overturned the indignity only by making a direct appeal to Robert E. Lee. The squabble over his horse symbolized a broader problem: the lack of a "respectable rank" for chaplains. (22) His ambivalence brought him home to Hampden-Sydney in the fall of 1861, but only after renewing his acquaintance with Stonewall Jackson and beginning a friendship which, in Dabney's words, "led to strange results." (23)

After Dabney's return to Hampden-Sydney, Jackson sent his wife Mary Anna to stay with her first cousin, Dabney's wife Lavinia Morrison Dabney. When the post of chief-of-staff became vacant on Jackson's staff the general quickly offered it to Dabney. (24) Jackson's request, which Dabney thought "almost preposterous," shocked the theologian. Yet he quickly accepted, and soon would declare proudly to his mother that "my best way to show love for you was to get between you and our enemies." (25)

From the beginning, Dabney struck Jackson's men as a "peculiar choice." Many resented his elevation over a younger but highly capable officer, Sandie Pendleton. (26) Skepticism regarding the new officer was confirmed after he appeared in camp at Swift Run Gap wearing a conspicuous Prince Albert coat and large beaver hat, holding an umbrella to shield himself from the sun, as troops jeered him. Such taunting of an officer was not unusual in Confederate armies, as it allowed citizen-soldiers a chance to "subject a person or agent of authority to public shame and disapproval," demonstrating that officers had to live up to standards of leadership set by the men themselves. Even after this humiliation, Jackson continued to praise him, remarking that "Dr. Dabney is here, and I am very thankful to God for it. He comes up to my highest expectations as a staff officer." (27)

In contrast, Jackson biographer James I. Robertson Jr. describes Dabney as the "poorest appointment Jackson ever made." Dabney never functioned as a general's chief-of-staff; he more closely resembled the personal secretary of a friend. In contrast to the strict demands he usually placed on subordinates, Jackson was "almost embarrassingly kind" to Dabney--allowing him to sleep on a feather bed while the general slept on the ground. (28) However, the general's gentle treatment of his friend scarcely could have compensated for the scorn of fellow staff officers such as Hunter McGuire, who described Dabney's military career as an "unmitigated humbug." At first, Jackson worked effectively in spite of the shortcomings of his top aide. In the Shenandoah Valley campaign, the general had functioned semi-autonomously and kept his troops under his own watchful eye. (29) But the Seven Days Battles required moving troops in the absence of Jackson and coordination among several armies. Jackson entrusted Dabney with much of the responsibility for these tasks, which he proved manifestly incapable of performing. Dabney's bungling in the Seven Days Battles was followed in short order by the theologian's exit from Confederate service. While the minister ostensibly left the service because he suffered from camp disease, his reluctance to return to combat after his recovery suggests that his disastrous performance outside Richmond caused his separation from Jackson, whom he would never see again. (30)

Dabney's postbellum accounts of the Seven Days Battles, in which he portrayed himself as an unsung hero, suggest a desire for vindication in the face of self-doubt. In an article published in the' 1870s, Dabney wrote that Jackson, mindful of the minister's illness, had excused him from carrying a set of crucial orders, relegating the task to a subordinate officer, John Harman, who botched the job. According to Dabney's far-fetched narrative, the minister himself carried the orders, which saved the battle at Gaines's Mill by bringing six brigades into action at a crucial moment. When he went to Jackson to explain his role in carrying the orders and his consequent absence from the field, he found the general in a "concentrated rage." He therefore never disclosed to Jackson the manner in which he had carried the mislaid orders. Dabney wrote that the "hearty devotion with which he served the General would have gone far to justify him in his strange selection" of the minister, had Jackson only known of Dabney's purported heroics. (31)

After the Seven Days Battles, Jackson continued to treat his friend with a warmth that set him apart from other officers, writing that "it was with tearful eyes that I consented to our separation." (32) For his part, Dabney was grateful to Jackson for excusing him from the service; he believed that Jackson's "kind" understanding of his illness "doubtless saved my life." While admiring his friend, Dabney never quite fully understood Jackson's strenuous commitment to military life: in December 1862 he invited the general and his wife to visit his home, but Jackson, who was famous for his opposition to furloughs, politely declined. (33)

More than thirty years later, Dabney remained mortified by the thought that "I was absent from [Jackson's] side for nearly two hours in the heat of the battle" at Gaines's Mill and that Jackson might have believed that Dabney showed a "lack of zeal" or even "a lack of courage" when he left the army. According to Dabney's son Charles, the theologian even blamed himself for Jackson's death because he failed to be at the general's side when he was mortally wounded at Chancellorsville. Although no one in Jackson's circle questioned Dabney's courage, the defensive tone of the minister's 1896 memorandums to Jackson biographer G. F. R. Henderson, in which he vociferously defended his record on long-dead issues in ways that occasionally contradicted his own book, suggest that he had long been worried by the possibility that others saw him as a failed officer. Indeed, several officers shared the scorn of Jackson's subordinate Henry Kyd Douglas who in 1899 described Dabney as "too old, too reverend, and too unelastic" for his post. (34)

After Dabney's brief and frustrating tenure as a staff officer, the former opponent of secession devoted himself single-mindedly to vindicating Jackson's cause. Dabney had been a poor soldier, but he now viewed his scholarly work in martial terms, declaring in the dedication to his 1863 proslavery tract A Defence of Virginia, published in 1867, that "while more fortunate comrades were wielding the sword for her, I have employed ... the pen." A Defence of Virginia launched a career of sectional polemic filled with such "bitterness" that one writer has suggested that if "the postbellum South produced an equivalent to Edmund Ruffin, it was surely Dabney." (35)

While Dabney is best remembered for his harsh denunciation of the postbellum order and defense of orthodoxy, the theologian was responsible for one remarkable theological innovation: a revised understanding of Christian martyrdom which played an essential role in his interpretation of the Civil War. As the conflict began, Dabney, who opposed Virginia's secession until the first shots at Fort Sumter, evinced discomfort with the violent deaths faced by soldiers in battle. Before the war, Americans both North and South shared assumptions about life's proper end that treated a "Good Death" as something that all men and women should achieve. As historian Drew Gilpin Faust has argued, mid-nineteenth-century Americans assumed the manner of death foreshadowed the soul's fate, and that the moment of death should be scrutinized, witnessed, and interpreted. If characters such as Dickens's Little Nell or Bunyan's Faithful exemplified the good death in Victorian culture, the chaos of battle and random carnage of war--Dabney had warned before secession that bodies left on the battlefield would be eaten by "birds of prey"-epitomized how men should not die. (36)

Interpreting the death of Confederate soldiers within the tradition of Christian martyrdom provided Dabney with a way of reconciling battlefield carnage with the ideal of a good death preparing a soul for eternity. Martyrdom held extraordinary cultural currency for nineteenth-century Americans, in large part because of the enduring legacy of two books--John Foxe's Acts and Monuments of Christian Martyrs and John Bunyan's ubiquitous The Pilgrim's Progress. On August 25, 1861, Dabney preached a sermon entitled "Our Comfort in Dying" to an assembly of soldiers that included Stonewall Jackson. In this sermon, he described the death of Saint Stephen, the first Christian martyr. In ringing words, Dabney asked Confederate soldiers to "live and die like believing Stephen." (37) In doing so, he worked to reconcile the horror of war with the Christian imperative of achieving a meaningful death.

In "Our Comfort in Dying," the parallels between Christian martyrs and Confederate soldiers were implicit at best. Yet Stonewall Jackson seized on those parallels, recounting Dabney's sermon in a letter to his wife. As Jackson recalled it, Dabney "drew a graphic description of [Stephen's] probably broken limbs, mangled flesh and features." The minister had "beautifully and forcibly described the death of the righteous." The theme of pious suffering captured the attention of Jackson, whose personal library contained The Pilgrim's Progress, as well as a popular account of early Christian martyrs,as

After leaving the service under Jackson in the fall of 1862, Dabney quickly returned to the theme of martyrdom first explored in "Our Comfort in Dying." Few ministers in 1861 and 1862 portrayed Confederate soldiers as martyrs, as their "primary allegiance remained with the cause of God, not that of the Confederacy." Early in the war, depictions of martyrdom proved relatively ephemeral in the South, appearing in short-lived secular magazines such as the Southern Monthly and the Southern Field and Fireside. (39) It was Dabney who offered a sermon that provided the first systematic theological argument that soldiers fighting for the Confederacy could achieve the status of Christian martyrs, as opposed to secular martyrs such as Nathan Hale. (40)

Dabney's attempt to define the Confederate soldier fallen in battle as a sacred martyr was a significant innovation, especially coming from a man famous for his spiritual orthodoxy. There was some precedent for describing soldiers in such terms, as Christian theologians had done so during the Crusades. (41) Since that time, however, Foxe's work had become central to understanding martyrdom in Anglo-American Christianity, and that book featured a "caustic dismissal" of the medieval tradition of martyrology that glorified the soldiers of the Crusades. To follow medieval theologians in describing soldiers killed in battle as martyrs, Dabney would have to deemphasize a central element in Foxe's stories of Protestant martyrdom--the theme of subversive witness against entrenched authority.

Foxe believed that the archetypal Christian martyr was Saint Stephen, who offered a model of passive resistance to the Roman state. Similarly, in Acts and Monuments, Foxe portrayed martyrs who died in passive acts of resistance and who promoted Christian witness in the face of "ill-founded or ill-used authority." Foxe's Reformation martyrs resisted secular authority, demonstrating the purity of their faith by rejecting the appeals of the world. (42) In contrast, Confederate soldiers fought for a secular government, engaged in systematic violence against other men, and were often awarded with plaudits and worldly glory. Dabney realized that to place Saint Stephen and a Confederate soldier in the same religious category would require rigorous argument as well as scriptural justification.

Dabney had trouble finding Biblical authority to treat Confederate soldiers as Christian martyrs, conceding that "the duties of patriotism are not prominently urged in the Sacred Scriptures." The minister recognized that his conception of martyrdom for soldiers who sought to kill their enemies would "startle" some in his audience. He found sanction for his position in the second book of Samuel, choosing the verse, "Be of good courage and let us play the man for our people, and for the cities of our God." Yet in this text the words were spoken by Joab, a morally ambiguous figure who Dabney conceded was "not a child of God." Making the case for soldiers as martyrs was important enough that Dabney departed from his usual biblical literalism, arguing that the text should be viewed as God's command "not because it was spoken by Joab, but because his language is virtually sanctioned by the Holy Ghost, in the general tenor of the narrative." His earlier ambivalence about military life, evident in 1861, had disappeared. Now, Dabney believed that God had "authorized" the Confederacy's Christian soldiers to fight for their country. (43)

In a memorial sermon delivered after Jackson's death, and again in his biography of Jackson, Dabney used martyrdom to reframe the idea of courage. To Dabney, Jackson's life offered a moral example less because of physical courage than because of Jackson's "daily martyrdom" of serf-sacrifice for the cause. Dabney portrayed Jackson as a man of "perfect courage." However, Dabney argued that his "true courage" was "moral courage." Jackson's virtue was not the mere "animal nerve" of a "gladiator," nor was it the concern for reputation that motivated the duelist of the chivalric Old South. Instead, Jackson offered the genuine courage of a man characterized by concern for family and church. It was Jackson's piety, rather than his valor, which made him worthy of martyrdom. His selflessness made him "the anointed of God to bring in deliverance for his oppressed Church and Country." (44) In the postbellum period, as Dabney became an increasingly strident proponent of Old South values, he continued to insist that the lesson of Jackson's life was that the South needed "a book of 'Acts and Monuments of Confederate Martyrs." (45)

Dabney's Life and Campaigns of Jackson was published in its entirety in 1866. His vivid portrayal of Jackson and the Confederate cause, and his defense of slavery in sacred terms alienated many readers, including Robert E. Lee, who believed the book's righteous rhetoric could only bring "angry opposition." Even Dabney's close friend and coeditor of the church newspaper The Central Presbyterian, William Brown, believed that Dabney's martyrology came dangerously close to blasphemy, especially in the comparison it drew between the suffering of the Confederate people and the crucifixion. Ultimately, Dabney viewed the book as a failure, as it sold a modest but respectable 59,000 copies before its publisher declared bankruptcy. (46) Subsequent biographies of Jackson, including a highly popular series of semi-fictional works by Virginia writer John Esten Cooke, ignored the image of Jackson as a martyr so central to Dabney's account. In the 1890s, Dabney worked to bring out a new edition of his book, but his failure to do so left him "blind, sick, [and] sorrowful." Professional historians in the twentieth century have followed the lead of Freeman, who cited Dabney's work as an important primary and secondary source while ignoring the portrait of Jackson as a martyr. (47) Even Lost Cause books which emphasized Jackson's piety, such as Charles Jones's Christ in the Camp and Mary Anna Jackson's Memoirs, treated him as a hero and role model rather than as a martyr who had died for a sacred cause. (48)

If Dabney's depiction of Jackson as a Christian martyr failed to win over later biographers, his work did much to create a lasting image of Jackson as an exemplar of the virtues of self-control and discipline. Central to Dabney's image of Jackson as a modern man are words that have become indelibly associated with his name: "You may be what ever you resolve to be." It was hardly inevitable that these words, inscribed in a maxim book that Jackson kept while a cadet at West Point and professor at the Virginia Military Institute, would become so important for the Jackson legend. While Jackson recorded these inspirational words, Dabney played a crucial role in plucking them out of obscurity and portraying them as the essence of the general's philosophy. The maxim book that Dabney relied upon included many other suggestive entries, which the minister ignored. (49)

While Dabney selected only a few words from a host of entries in the maxim book, he clearly sensed their import, recording them in capital letters and stretching the truth to claim that Jackson had recorded them in an especially prominent place. Dabney described the words "you may be what ever you resolve to be" as Jackson's "most characteristic" maxim. He asserted that the maxim had been recorded before Jackson's conversion and profession of faith and thus provided evidence of "high secular virtue." Praising Jackson's "self-reliance," Dabney credited that virtue to Jackson's fidelity to his "favorite maxim." so It seems unlikely that he knew the maxim's original source, which has also eluded subsequent Jackson biographers.

In fact, Jackson copied more than half the maxim book entries, including the passage selected by Dabney, verbatim from a single book, William Alcott's 1833 advice manual The Young Man's Guide. (51) In addition, a large portion of the maxim book consists of a transcription of the famous virtues listed in Benjamin Franklin's Autobiography. Following Dabney's lead, other Jackson biographers have invested great significance in the maxim book, erroneously assuming that Jackson must have laboriously shaped the entries over a long period of time, and therefore concluding that the book offers a key to Jackson's character. In his popular biography of Jackson, the southern intellectual Mien Tate concluded that there "is more of Jackson's character in the maxim Ion resolve] than in anything else he ever said." Historian Frank Vandiver described Jackson "laboriously" inscribing the maxim book, and described the maxim cited by Dabney as the "guiding principle throughout Jackson's life." (52) Since Jackson copied the vast majority of the book directly from just two sources, it seems likely that he could have simply recorded the entries in an afternoon. It is not possible to tell how important the maxim book was to Jackson's personal development, or whether he even remembered the now-famous slogan about personal resolve at the time that the Civil War broke out.

Like any thoughtful historian who chooses one piece of evidence and discards another, Dabney used the maxim book in a way that reflected the story he wished to tell. Civil War historiography offers few examples of a more fortuitous reading of a primary source. Since Dabney published his book, these words have been a staple in Jackson biographies, figuring prominently in virtually every full-length treatment of the general. The United Daughters of the Confederacy placed the slogan on a calendar in 1912, and today they are emblazoned, seemingly as Jackson's own words, on T-shirts, coffee mugs, and web sites that commemorate the Confederate general. They are even engraved on arches that lead to the barracks at VMI where Jackson once taught. (53) Dabney's selection of these words helped him craft an image of controlled ambition, restrained piety, and professionalism that would reframe the way Americans thought about Stonewall Jackson.

For many years, the maxim book was in the hands of a private collector, leading Jackson's biographers before the 1990s to quote the single maxim cited by Dabney. It seems likely that popular interest in the maxim book will increase with the recent publication of its contents in a handsome volume edited by James I. Robertson, the author of an authoritative 1997 Jackson biography, who recently rediscovered the maxim book at the archives of Tulane University. (54) Robertson's belief in the maxim's value as a tool in character formation is suggested by the prominent place it receives on the cover of that author's most recent biography of Jackson, a popular account aimed at young people. Robertson has remarked that "Jackson's most famous statement ... can serve as a beacon for any child of any time." (55)

Historians, beginning with Dabney, may have been mistaken in describing the maxim book as a key to the character of Stonewall Jackson. After all, the words "You may be what ever you resolve to be" originated with William Alcott, and would not be remembered but for Dabney, the writer who made them famous. Nevertheless, they are part of the mythology surrounding the colorful Jackson and the temptation to see the maxim book as central to his character remains. Robertson bases his belief in the book's intense significance to Jackson both on the possibility that Jackson coined most of the maxims and the fact that "the worn nature of the notebook gives evidence that the author opened and closed it many times." (56) It is just as likely that Jackson's friends or the collector who owned the book during much of the twentieth century could account for the wear and tear. Perhaps the best guide to Jackson's character is not the maxim book but his actions, carefully chronicled in Robertson's own superb biography.

Certainly Henderson was mistaken to see the maxim book as proof of an "engrossing ambition" or an abnormally"absolute self-dependence" on Jackson's part. (57) Jackson's reliance on Alcott's The Young Man's Guide seems to suggest that Jackson, like Dabney, found himself at home with values of upward mobility and self-control. These are values shared by the archetypal self-made man, Benjamin Franklin, from whom Jackson also copied numerous passages. However, Jackson's choice of Alcott's work is unremarkable given that the book proved enormously popular, going through twenty-one editions between 1833 and 1858. Advice manuals such as Alcott's offered young men and women guidance in the increasingly fluid social world of Jacksonian America. As eighteenth-century structures of paternal authority and ascribed social status eroded, ministers and teachers wrote advice manuals which found a ready audience among young people who believed that character and behavior would prove central to achieving respectable status. In reading and recording such a maxim book, the budding VMI professsor Jackson exemplified values that had become commonplace in the Upper South, much like Dabney, his friend and fellow academic, did. (58)

It seems remarkable that Dabney, the Lost Cause defender of slavery and social hierarchy, would highlight, even unknowingly, the words of William Alcott. An abolitionist, Alcott inhabited a world of northern reform seemingly at odds with Dabney's Old School, proslavery brand of Presbyterian orthodoxy. A prominent antebellum physician famous for his vegetarianism, Alcott was also a cousin, childhood friend, and co-worker of the remarkable Massachusetts transcendentalist educator Bronson Alcott. William likely inspired the hallmark of Bronson Alcott's teaching--the keeping of private journals and "silent and concentrated introspection." (59) The impact of the Alcotts' methods on New England reformers is well known, as they crafted an educational doctrine well-suited to transcendental ideals of self-reliance, which gained increasing prominence due to the literary success of Bronson's daughter, Louisa May Alcott. That a central theme of Dabney's most widely read book would be lifted from the work of a New England reformer belies the theologian's image as an exponent of southern orthodoxy. Instead it reminds us that men such as Dabney were hardly rustic provincials. Dabney, like Jackson, actively participated in a vibrant transatlantic world of letters, appropriating ideas that made sense in a Southern world increasingly committed to values of progress and modernity. (60)

In spite of his caustic proslavery stance, the minister also succeeded in creating a compelling image of Jackson by treating the general as an exemplar of modern values of progress that would prove remarkably palatable to New South and even Northern audiences. This picture of Jackson would be readily adopted by Jackson's subsequent biographers, especially in the twentieth century. While many popular representations during and after the Civil War portrayed Jackson in the stern image of a Confederate Cromwell, Dabney depicted Jackson's faith as softer and more reasonable. Ambivalent about the South's antebellum culture of honor that defined manhood in terms of physical courage and community reputation, Dabney softened Jackson's image, depicting him in sentimental terms as a man who cared passionately about his marriage and adored children. Dabney's moving portrait of Jackson's death at Guinea's Station offered an archetypal nineteenth-century good death, as the soldier passed away surrounded by family and friends, who listened raptly to improbably eloquent speeches from the dying man. (61) Dabney's portrait of Jackson buttressed the image of a general who exemplified values associated with progress. Unlike other Jackson biographers, Dabney undoubtedly saw his portrait of Christian martyrdom and personal ambition as compatible. If a young man could be whatever he resolved to be, Dabney could likely see no higher place than that of Christian martyr.

The theme of personal resolve is so pervasive in Dabney's antebellum career and correspondence that its central place in his biography of Jackson reveals as much about the author as it does about the subject. Dabney's self-appointed role as an exponent of Presbyterian orthodoxy and social hierarchy threatens to obscure his more influential popular legacy: a compelling image of our most remarkable Civil War general. Dabney's image of Jackson reflected the modern values of an ambitious minister who embraced the values of the marketplace. His book reminds us that even the most zealous Confederate was part of a broader American culture based on individualism and personal achievement. His book, with its portentous maxim, resembled numerous popular biographies of the antebellum period, which featured a near-obsessive concern with the formation of character. (62) Dabney's biography of Jackson blended strictures on social mobility and Confederate martryology in a provocative way. The book's admixture of modernity and proslavery moralism would not only secure its influence on subsequent historiography, it would underscore the complex and ambiguous nature of southern conservatism in an age of social transformation.

(1.) Thomas C. Johnson, quoted by C.W. Dabney in Robert Lewis Dabney--In Memoriam (Knoxville, 1899), 14; J. H. Rice in Robert Lewis Dabney--ln Memoriam, 34-35; Benjamin Palmer, Southern Presbyterian, Jan. 20, 1898.

(2.) Central Presbyterian, Jan. 6, 1896, clipping in Jedediah Hotchkiss Papers, Library of Congress (hereafter cited as LC).

(3.) Palmer, Southern Presbyterian, Jan. 20, 1898.

(4.) Charles Reagan Wilson, Baptized in Blood; The Religion of the Lost Cause. 1865-1920 (Athens: Univ. of Georgia Press, 1980), 85; Charles Reagan Wilson, "Robert Lewis Dabney: Religion and the Southern Holocaust," Virginia Magazine of History and Biography 89 (Jan. 1981): 79-89; Gaines M. Foster, Ghosts of the Confederacy." Defeat The Lost Cause, and the Emergence of the New South, 1865 to 1915 (New York: Oxford Univ. Press, 1987), 75; Jack P. Maddex Jr., "Proslavery Millenialism: Social Eschatology in Antebellum Southern Calvinism," American Quarterly 31 (1979): 46-68, esp. 61; David W. Blight, Race and Reunion: The Civil War in American Memory (Cambridge: Belknap Press of Harvard Univ. Press, 2001), 262-63. On Dabney's career see also Thomas Cary Johnson, The Life and Letters of Robert Lewis Dabney (1903; reprint, Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1977); David Overy, "Robert Lewis Dabney: Apostle of the Old South" (Ph.D. diss., University of Wisconsin, 1967).

(5.) For Dabney's account of these events, see Robert Lewis Dabney, "Autobiography" (unpublished MS), 34-39, Alderman Library, University of Virginia (hereafter cited as UV), Charlottesville. For a good summary of Dabney's Civil War career, see OverT, "Robert Lewis Dabney," 111-31. See also Eugene Genovese, A Consuming Fire: The Fall of the Confederacy in the Mind of the White Christian South (Athens: Univ. of Georgia Press, 1998), 11-12, 94-95.

(6.) William Allan, History of the Campaign of Gen, T. J. (Stonewall) Jackson in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia,from November 4, 1861 to June 17, 1862 (1880; reprint, New York: Da Capo Press, 1995), 6.

(7.) Sarah Nicholas Randolph, The Life of General Thomas J. Jackson ("Stonewall Jackson") (Philadephia: Lippincott, 1876). 6; Mary Anna Jackson, Memoirs of Stonewall Jackson (Louisville: Prentice Press, 1895); Douglass Southall Freeman, The South to Posterity: An Introduction to the Writing of Confederate History (1939; reprint, Baton Rouge: Louisiana State Univ. Press, 1998), 135; G. F. R. Henderson, Stonewall Jackson and the American Civil War (1898; reprint, New York: Da Capo Press, 1988), xvi.

(8.) Freeman noted that while Dabney's book had been superseded by Henderson, "the fact is Henderson leaned so heavily on Dabney as to accept even his mistakes." See Freeman, The South to Posterity, 39-40. For Freeman's approach to Dabney as a soldier and historical source, see Douglass Southall Freeman, Lee's Lieutenants: A Study in Command, 3 vols. (New York: C. Scribner's Sons, 1942) 1:364--65, 372-73,489-516, 655-69. The most influential recent biographies of Jackson include Charles Royster, The Destructive War: William Tecumseh Sherman, Stonewall Jackson, and the Americans (New York: Knopf, s99s), and James I. RobertsonJr., Stonewall Jackson: The Man, The Soldier, The Legend (New York: Macmillan, 1997).

(9.) For an example of Dabney's continuing concern with defending slavery and social hierarchy in the New South, see his 1894 essay "The Economic Effects of the Former Labor System of the United States," in Robert Lewis Dabney, Discussions," Evangelical and Theological, 4 vols. (1890; reprint, Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1978) 4:390.

(10.) On slaveholding intellectuals and modernity, see Eugene D. Genovese, The Slaveholders's Dilemma: Freedom and Progress in Southern Conservative Thought, 1820-1860 (Columbia: Univ. of South Carolina Press, 1992), 22;James Oakes, The Ruling Race: A History of American Slaveholders (NewYork: Knopf, 1982); James Oakes, Slavery and Freedom: An Interpretation of the Old South (New York: Knopf, 1990). On the growth of the market in Virginia, see William G. Shade, Democratizing the Old Dominion: Virginia and the Second Party System, 1824-1861 (Charlottesville: Univ. Press of Virginia, 1996); Daniel Crofts, "Late Antebellum Virginia Reconsidered," Virginia Magazine of History and Biography 107 (Summer 1999): 254-86.

(11.) Johnson, The Life and Letters, 14; Merrill Matbews Jr., "Robert Lewis Dabney and Conservative Thought in the Nineteenth-Century South: A Study in the History of Ideas" (Ph.D. diss., University of Texas at Dallas, 1989), 20; Robert Lewis Dabney to Mother, Aug. 20, 1836, in Johnson, The Life and Letters, 31.

(12.) Dabney, quoted in Johnson, The Life and Letters, 42-43; Jan Lewis, The Pursuit of Happiness: Family and Values in Jefferson's Virginia (New York: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1983) 50-51; Nathan O. Hatch, The Democratization of American Christianity (New Haven: Yale Univ. Press, 1989), 68-101; Robert Wiebe, The Opening of American Society: From the Constitution to the Eve of Disunion (New York: Knopf, 1984), 157-67,229-32; Shade, Democratizing the Old Dominion, 27-29, 138.

(13.) Robert Lewis Dabney, "On the Death of Madison." 1836, Dabney Papers, UV.

(14.) Lewis, The Pursuit of Happiness, 155.

(15.) Robert Lewis Dabney to Mother, Dec. 15, 1841, in Johnson, The Life and Letters, 55; Robert Lewis Dabney to Elizabeth Dabney, Dec. 23, 1841, Dabney Papers, UV; Bertram Wyatt-Brown, The Shaping of Southern Culture:Honor, Grace, and War, 1760s-1890s (Chapel Hill: Univ. of North Carolina Press, 2000, 97; Bertram Wyatt-Brown, Southern Honor (New York: Oxford Univ. Press, 1982); Mary P. Ryan, Cradle of the Middle Class: The Family in Oneida County, New York, 1790-1865 (New York: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1981), 13,141-42; Robert Lewis Dabney to Charles W. Dabney, Dec. 12, 1855, Dabney Papers, UV.

(16.) Overy, "Robert Lewis Dabuey," 89; Dabney, "Autobiography," 15, 17, 20.

(17.) E. Brooks Holifield, The Gentleman Theologians:American Theology in Southern Culture, 1795-1860 (Durham, N.C.: Duke Univ. Press, 1978).

(18.) Dabney, "Autobiography;" Robert Lewis Dabney to Mother, Aug. 15, 1860, Dabney Papers, Union Theological Seminary (hereafter cited as UTS), Richmond.

(19.) For a study of Methodist and Baptist clerics who shared Dabney's commitment to upward mobility, see Beth Barton Schweiger, The Gospel Working Up: Progress and the Pulpit in Nineteenth-Century Virginia (New York: Oxford Univ. Press, 2000), 5. See also Holifield, The Gentleman Theologians; Randy J. Sparks, "To Rend the Body of Christ: Proslavery Ideology and Religious Schism from a Mississippi Perspective," in John R. McKivigan and Mitchell Snay, eds., Religion and the Antebellum Debate over Slavery (Athens: Univ. of Georgia Press, 1998), 289.

(20.) Robert Lewis Dabney, The Christian's Best Motive for Patriotism: A Fast Day Sermon (Richmond: Chas. H. Wynne, 1860), 6; Wyatt-Brown, Southern Honor, 35; Sehweiger, The Gospel Working Up, 99.

(21.) Elizabeth Dabney to Robert Lewis Dabney, Jan. 15, 1861, Charles W. Dabney Papers, Southern Historical Collection (hereafter cited as SHC), University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill; Robert Lewis Dabney to Rev. S.I. Prine, April 20, 1861, reprinted in Johnson, The Life and Letters, 225-26.

(22.) Schweiger, The Gospel Working Up, 98-99; Robert Lewis Dabney to Col. Jordan, June 22, 1861, Dabney Papers, UV; Robert Lewis Dabney to Moses Drury Hoge, June 27, 1861, Dabney Papers, UTS; Robert Lewis Dabney to Lavinia Dabney, July 1, 1861, Charles W. Dabney Papers, SHC; Robert Lewis Dabney to Lavinia Dabney, Sept. 5, 1861, Charles W. Dabney Papers, SHC.

(23.) Dabney, "Autobiography," 35.

(24.) Thomas J. Jackson to Robert Lewis Dabney, Mar. 29, 1862, and Apr. 8, 1862, in Johnson, The Life and Letters, 261-62.

(25.) Dabney, "Autobiography," 36; Robert Lewis Dabney to Mother, Apr. 24, 1862, Thomas J. Jackson to Robert Lewis Dabney, Apr. 8, 1862, and Robert Lewis Dabney to Mother, Apr. 24, 1862, in Johnson, The Life and Letters, 262-63.

(26.) Overy, "Robert Lewis Dabney," 115; Hunter MeGuire to Jedediah Hotchkiss, Nov. 28, 1898, Hotchkiss Papers, LC; W. G. Bean, Stonewall'sMart: Sandie Pendleton (Chapel Hill: Univ. of North Carolina Press, 1959), 76.

(27.) Charles E. Brooks, "The Social and Cultural Dynamics of Soldiering in Hood's Texas Brigade," Journal of Southern History 67 (Aug. 2001): 549-72; Thomas J. Jackson to Mary Anna Jackson, April 1862, quoted in Mary Anna Jackson, Memoirs, 572; Johnson, The Life and Letters, 279.

(28.) Robertson, Stonewall]ackson, 360; Overy, "Robert Lewis Dabney," 131; Robert Lewis Dabney to Mother, Apr. 24, 1862, in Johnson, The Life and Letters, 264-65.

(29.) For a good assessment of Jackson's performance and Dabney's poor staff work, see Robert K. Krick, "Sleepless in the Saddle: Stonewall Jackson in the Seven Days," in Gary Gallagher, ed., The Richmond Campaign of 1862: The Peninsula and the Seven Days (Chapel Hill: Univ. of North Carolina Press, 2000), 66-96.

(30.) Freeman. Lee's Lieutenants 1:655-69; Stephen Sears, To the Gates of Richmond: The Peninsula Campaign (New York: Ticknor & Fields, 1992), 181-248.

(31.) Hunter McGuire to Jedediah Hotchkiss, May 26, 1896, Hotchkiss Papers, LC; Robert Lewis Dabney, "What I Saw of the Battle of Chickahominy," Southern Magazine in (Jan. 1872): 7-13.

(32.) Thomas J. Jackson to Robert Lewis Dabney, July 24,1862, Dabney Papers, UTS.

(33.) Thomas J. Jackson to Robert Lewis Dabney, Jan. 1, 1863, in Johnson, The Life and Letters, 276; Dabney, "Autobiography," 39.

(34.) Charles W. Dabney, "A Memoir by Charles William Dabney" (unpublished MS), Eggleston Library, Hampden-Sydney College, Hampden-Sydney. Virginia; Robert Lewis Dabney to Jedediah Hotchkiss, March 10, 1896, Hotchkiss Papers, LC; Henry Kyd Douglas, I Rode With Stonewall (1899: reprint, Chapel Hill: Univ. of North Carolina Press, 1940), 101. See also Gerald Linderman, Embattled Courage (New York: Free Press, 1989), 7-16.

(35.) Dabney, "Autobiography," 48; Robert Lewis Dabney to Thomas J. Jackson, Mar. 5, 1863, Robert Lewis Dabney Papers, UV; Robert L. Dabney, A Defence of Virginia, and Through Her, of the South (1867; reprint, Harrisonburg, Va.: Sprinkle Publications, 1977), 13; Fred Hobson, Tell about the South: The Southern Rage to Explain (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State Univ. Press, 1983), 93

(36.) Drew Gilpin Faust, "Civil War Soldiers and the Art of Dying," Journal of Southern History 55 (Feb. 2001): 3-38; Dabney, The Christian's Best Motive for Patriotism, 6.

(37.) John R. Knott, Discourses of Martyrdom in English Literature, 1563-1694 (London: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1993), 4; Robert Lewis Dabney, "Our Comfort in Dying: A Sermon," Aug. 25, 1861, in Dabney, Discussions 1:602-13.

(38.) Thomas J. Jackson to Mary Anna Jackson, Aug. 26,1861, quoted in Mary Anna Jackson, Memoirs, 193; "Stonewall Jackson Book Inventory" (unpublished MS), Virginia Historical Society, Richmond.

(39.) Schweiger, The Gospel Working Up, 95; Alice Fahs, The Imagined Civil War: Popular Literature of the North and South, 1861-1865 (Chapel Hill: Univ. of North Carolina Press, 2001), 88-89.

(40.) Robert Lewis Dabney, "The Christian Soldier: A Sermon Commemorative of the Death of Abraham C. Carrington" in Dabney, Discussions 1:614-625.

(41.) Colin Morris, "Martyrs on the Field of Battle before and during the First Crusade," in Diana Wood, ed., Martyrs and Martyrologists (Oxford: Blackwell, 1993), 93.

(42.) On the origins of martyrdom as an act of witness in the face of authority see G.W. Bowersack, Martyrdom and Rome (London: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1995), 2-7. On Protestant martyrdom see Knott, Discourses of Martyrdom, 4, 40, 45.

(43.) Dabney, "The Christian Soldier," in Dabney, Discussions 1: 614-25.

(44.) Robert Lewis Dabney, True Courage: A Discourse Commemorative of Lieut. General Thomas J. Jackson (Richmond: Presbyterian Committee of Publication, 1863), 3-7; Robert Lewis Dabney, Life and Campaigns of Lieut.-Gen. Thomas J. Jackson (New York and Richmond: Blelock & Co., 1866), 280, 727, 737-38.

(45.) Robert L. Dabney to D. H. Hill. Dec. 1, 1873, D. H. Hill Papers. SHC.

(46.) Robert E. Lee to Robert Lewis Dabney, Feb. 3, 1867, Dabney Papers, UTS; William Brown to Robert Lewis Dabney, Apr. 7, 1864, Dabney Papers, SHC; Dabney, "Autobiography," 45; Robert L. Dabney to D. H. Hill, Mar. 2, 1869, D. H. Hill Papers, SHC.

(47.) On Cooke see Richard Barksdale Harwell, "Cooke's Lives of Jackson" in John Esten Cooke, Stonewall Jackson and the Old Stonewall Brigade, ed. by Richard Barksdale Harwell (Charlottesville: Univ. of Virginia Press, 1954), 49-64. Robert Lewis Dabney to Jedediah Hotchkiss, Apr. 23, 1896, Hotchkiss Papers, LC; Freeman, The South to Posterity, 39-40.

(48.) J. William Jones, Christ in the Camp: Or Religion in the Confederate Army (1887; reprint, Harrisonburg, Va.: Sprinkle Publications, 1986), 88-101, Mary Anna Jackson, Memoirs, 452-65. On Jackson's postwar image, see Wilson. Baptized in Blood, 52.

(49.) Jackson's maxim book is at Tulane University. For a facsimile of the maxim book and a commentary on its contents see James I. Robertson Jr., ed., Stonewall Jackson's Book of Maxims (Nashville: Cumberland House, 2002).

(50.) Dabney, Life and Campaigns, 37-38, 71-72. Dabney omitted the single word "will" from the maxim, and subsequent biographers copied his error. In Jackson's book and in Alcott's, the complete maxim is "you may be what ever you will resolve to be."

(51.) William Alcott, The Young Man's Guide, (1833; reprint, Boston: Lilly, Wait, Colman, and Holden, 1834), esp. 21-24, 27-29, 67-69, 127, 185-87. Charles Royster traced the famous words to Joel Hawes's Lectures to Young Men, On the Formation of Character, &c (Hartford, Conn.: Cooke & Co., 1851), 74. See Royster, The Destructive War, 60. While Hawes's words resemble those in Jackson's maxim book, the match is not exact. Robertson's biography of Jackson credited Royster with the discovery that the words "first appeared in an 1851 work." See Robertson, Stonewall Jackson, 814. Because of the date of Hawes's book, Royster and Robertson have assumed that the maxim book was recorded in the 1850s. That the bulk of the maxims have their origins in Alcott's earlier work means that Dabney may have been correct in assuming that they were transcribed while Jackson was a cadet at West Point. See Dabney, Life and Campaigns, 38.

(52.) Allen "late, Stonewall Jackson: The Good Soldier (1928; reprint, Nashville: J. S. Sanders & Co., 1991); Frank Vandiver, Mighty Stonewall (1957; reprint, College Station: Texas A&M Univ. Press, 1989), 17.

(53.) Foster, Ghosts of the Confederacy, 121. For an introduction to the maxim at VMI, see www.vmi.edu/ archives.

(54.) Robertson, ed., Stonewall Jackson's Book of Maxims, 18-22. Robertson argues that Jackson recorded the maxims over a five-year period, and that the sources for the overwhelming number of maxims are "unknown." Robertson speculates that "Jackson developed some [maxims] from his insights and experience" and others from "extensive reading," especially in the writings of Lord Chesterfield's volume of letters to his son.

(55.) James I. Robertson Jr., Standing Like a Stone Wall: The Life of General Thomas J. Jackson (New York: Atheneum, 2001). The quotation comes from an interview with Robertson entitled "An Inspiration That Transcends the Ages," Civil War Book Review 1 (Summer 2001): 34.

(56.) Robertson, ed., Stonewall Jackson's Maxims, 20.

(57.) Henderson, Stonewall Jackson, 16.

(58.) Karen Haltunnen, Confidence Men and Painted Women: A Study of Middle-Class Culture in America, 1830-1870 (New Haven, Conn.: Yale Univ. Press, 1982), 1-22. On the paradox of slavery and a modern culture in Virginia see Crofts, "Late Antebellum Virginia Reconsidered," 294-86.

(59.) For an overview of William Alcott's life, see Louis B. Salomon, "The Least-Remembered Alcott," New England Quarterly 34 (Mar. 1961): 34, 87-93. On his relationship with Bronson Alcott and the impact on the latter's educational methods see Odell Shepard, Pedlar's Progress: The Life of Bronson Alcott (Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1937), 76, 150, 172.

(60.) Genovese, The Slaveholders' Dilemma. For an acute discussion of the place of Southerners within a broader transatlantic community of letters see Jeffrey Young, Domesticating Slavery: The Master Class in Georgia and South Carolina, 1670-1837 (Chapel Hill: Univ. of North Carolina Press, 1999), 1-16.

(61.) On Jackson and Cromwell, see Mark E. Neely Jr., Harold Holzer, and Gabor S. Borritt, "Cromwell in Gray," in The Confederate Image.. Prints of the Lost Cause (Chapel Hill: Univ. of North Carolina Press, 1997), 107-36. Dabney, Life and Campaigns, 711-28.

(62.) Scott E. Caspar, Constructing American Lives: Biography and Culture in Nineteenth-Century America (Chapel Hill: Univ. of North Carolina Press, 1999), 88-89, 245.

WALLACE HETTLE is associate professor of history at the University of Northern Iowa. He is the author of The Peculiar Democracy: Southern Democrats in Peace and Civil War (2001).
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