Virginians! Look! There's Jackson standing like a stone wall!"
From that one cry of battle Stonewall Jackson got his name.

While the rest of the Shenandoahs were rallying, in rear of
Jackson, Beauregard and Johnston came up, followed by two
batteries. Miles behind them, all the men that could be spared
from the fords were coming too. But the Federals on the Matthews
Hill were still in more than double numbers; and they enjoyed the
priceless advantage of having some regulars among them. If the
Federal division at the Stone Bridge had only pushed home its
attack at this favorable moment the Confederates must have been
defeated. But the division again fumbled about to little purpose;
and for the second time McDowell's admirable plan was spoilt.

It was now past noon on that sweltering midsummer day; and there
was a welcome lull for the rallying Confederates while the
Federals were coming down the Matthews Hill, struggling across
the swamps and thickets of Young's Branch, and climbing the Henry
Hill. Within another hour the opposing forces were at close grips
again, and the Federals, flushed with success and steadied by the
regulars, seemed certain to succeed.

Imboden has vividly described his meeting Jackson at this time.
"The fight was just then hot enough to make him feel well. His
eyes fairly blazed. He had a way of throwing up his left hand
with the open palm towards the person he was addressing; and, as
he told me to go, he made this gesture. The air was full of
flying missiles, and as he spoke he jerked down his hand, and I
saw that blood was streaming from it. I exclaimed, 'General, you
are wounded.' 'Only a scratch--a mere scratch,' he replied; and,