Originally aired on June 23, 1995 - In part 43 of our Civil War series, Virginia Tech history professor James Robertson shares the incident of Stonewall Jackson becoming hilariously drunk.
#43 – “Stonewall” Jackson Becomes Intoxicated
Biography is the most popular form of history; and since the Civil War produced the largest list of intriguing characters in all of the nation’s annals, the escapades and anecdotes of its leaders are well-nigh legion. One of the most amusing of such stories is the instance in the war when the pious and self-sacrificing General “Stonewall” Jackson got hilariously drunk.
Jackson suffered from a number of physical maladies. He was also a man who followed abstinence as a line of faith. This was evident one chilly night in the war’s first autumn. Surgeon Hunter McGuire, Jackson’s personal physician, insisted that the General take a drink of whisky as a stimulant. Jackson swallowed the liquid and made a distorted expression.
“Isn’t the whiskey good?” McGuire asked.
“Yes, very,” Jackson answered. “I like it, and that’s the reason I don’t drink it.”
On New Year’s Day, 1862, Jackson led his force in an unusual winter campaign toward the Federal stronghold at Romney (in what is now West Virginia). The weather soon turned nasty: sleet alternated with snow and hampered at every step of every mile. By the second day of the march, even the determined Jackson began to suffer from the elements. The temperature was in the low twenties, but it felt colder because winds sent blinding snow swirling around the columns.
Just before the army embarked from Winchester, civic leader Robert Conrad had given his fellow townsman, Hunter McGuire, a bottle of a very smooth but very powerful brandy. Jackson called a midday halt in the march. He and his staff gathered in an abandoned log cabin and were shivering while they ate a meager lunch.
Surgeon McGuire noticed that Jackson was obviously cold. The physician pointed to the bottle of brandy that he had placed on the table. “General,” he said, “you had better take some of this. It will be good for you.”
“Do you think so, sir?” Jackson replied. “If you tell me I need it, of course I will take some.” The General obviously had no idea what was in the bottle.
While the staff watched in wonder, the unsuspecting Jackson filled a large tumbler to the brim and drank it down without removing the glass from his lips. He resumed his meal and, as was his custom, said little.
General and staff then walked outside into the freezing weather to remount and continue the journey. However, Jackson almost immediately took a handkerchief from his pocket and began wiping perspiration from his forehead. The party rode is silence through the snow for a short distance. Jackson then turned to an aide and commented: “Lieutenant, I am glad to see that (the temperature) is moderating rapidly. The troops will not suffer much.”
With that, Jackson unbuttoned his overcoat. The staff member, trying not to freeze to death and quite painfully aware that no rise in temperature had occurred, merely answered: “Yes, sir.”
A few more miles passed in silence. Jackson then opened his coat and unloosened his collar. “Lieutenant,” he stated to the aide, “I don’t think that I ever noticed such a remarkable change in temperature in such a short time.”
Again the young staff officer simply acknowledged Jackson’s statement. The remainder of the staff, on the other hand, watched their stern general swaying in the saddle and continuing to open his clothing while wind and snow laced everything in the countryside. Jackson’s aides could hardly suppress their laughter at the sight of their Calvinistic leader undergoing what was for him the strange effects of intoxication.
By nightfall, Jackson was back to normal. He never mentioned the incident. No member of his staff dared do so until years after the war.
