[Retrieved andtranscribed by Nanci Headley Kotowski
fromthe January 4, 1893, issue of ParkersburgDaily State Journal, Parkersburg,WV]
Among the stores captured at Harper’sFerry, writes Mrs. Jackson in her “Life of Stonewall Jackson,” not the leastvaluable was a train of cars on the Baltimoreand Ohio railroad, bound for Washington, and loaded with horses for thegovernment. This was a lawful prize andwas at once turned over to the Confederate army, with the exception of twohorses which General Jackson purchased. Thinking that hostilities would soon be over, he selected the smaller ofthe two—a pretty sorrel—as a present for his wife.
General Jackson had several otherhorses, but preferred the little sorrel to them all, finding his gait, as heexpressed it, “as easy as the rocking of a cradle.” He rode this horse in nearly every battle inwhich he was engaged.
Fancy, as the sorrel was named, seemedalmost indefatigable. One reason perhapswas that he always lay down when the command halted for a rest. His master made a pet of him, and often fedhim with apples from his own hand.
After being lost for a time upon thefall of General Jackson at Chancellorsville, thehorse was found by a Confederate soldier and kindly sent to the Jackson family in NorthCarolina. Helived many years in Lincolncounty, on the farm of Dr. Morrison, father-in-law ofthe general.
One of the young Morrisonsused to say that Old Fancy, as he was always called on the farm, “had moresense than any horse he ever saw.”
He could make as good use of his mouthin lifting latches and letting down bars as a man could with his hands. One of his habits was to let himself out ofhis stable, and then go deliberately to the doors ofall the other horses and mules, liberate each in turn, and then march off tothe grain fields with them all behind him—like a soldier leading his command.
But he was such a pet that hismisdemeanors passed for cleverness. Hewas often taken to county fairs, where he was an object of as much interest asone of the old heroes of the war.
He was more than thirty years of agewhen he died, in 1886, at the Soldiers’ home in Richmond. A stuffed effigy of this old warhorse may still be seen in a glass casein the library of the home.