ward his whole line. Never before had his preoccupation of mind, and his insensibility to danger, been so great. It was evident that he regarded this as his greatest victory."

By the time, however, the Confederates had reached the ridge overlooking that upon which Chancellorsville is situated, about half a mile distant, they were in very great confusion; the divisions of Rodes and Colston had been mingled almost inextricably; the enemy was rapidly bringing up artillery to stem the torrent of the pursuit. It was now past seven o'clock, and growing dark. Jackson had already seized the enemy's breastworks, had taken the whole line in reverse, and had pushed forward to within half a mile of headquarters. Here it became necessary to desist from the attack, in order to re-form the commands; and Jackson now proceeded to make preparations for following up his success by a blow that should be decisive. His design now was to swing round with his left, interpose his corps between Hooker's army and United States Ford, and capture or destroy it, or be himself destroyed.* The enemy was evidently recovering from his panic; hollow murmurs of preparation sounded through the night; fifty pieces of artillery were concentrated to sweep the approaches to his position at the first rustle in the forest that announced a new advance of the Confederates; there was the tramp and hum of men moving to their allotted positions; and on the dark lines, gunners stood with lighted port-fires to pour swift destruction into the Confederate ranks. A. P. Hill was now ordered to move with his division to the front, and Jackson rode forward to reconnoitre the enemy's position.

The enemy was less than two hundred yards in front of his lines, and no pickets had been established. Jackson had proceeded half the distance, when a fire of musketry on his front warned him of the enemy's proximity. He turned to ride hurriedly back, plunging his horse into the cover of the woods. He had got within twenty paces of his lines, accompanied by six or seven riders, when there was a cry of "cavalry," and a volley of musketry for the

* Some days before his death, and while wounded, Jackson, speaking of the attack he had made, said with a glow of martial ardour: "If I had not been wounded, I would have cut the enemy off from the road to United States Ford; we would have had them entirely surrounded, and they would have been obliged to surrender or cut their way out-they had no other alternative."

moment blinded the party, their horses recoiling in panic, some of them rushing through the woods unmanageable, and frantic from terrour. Several of the party fell dead upon the spot. Jackson's right hand was penetrated by a ball, his left fore-arm lacerated by another, and the same limb broken a little below the shoulder by a third, which not only crushed the bone, but severed the main artery. But he maintained his seat in the saddle, quieted his frantic horse, and turning to Capt. Wilbourne, his signal officer, remarked that his arm was broken, and requested to be assisted to the ground. As he was being lifted from the saddle he fainted, and his feet had to be disengaged from the stirrups. To remove him from the spot where he had fallen was absolutely necessary; the enemy was not more than a hundred yards distant, and the battle might recommence at any moment. No litter or ambulance was at hand, and Lieut. Morrison, his aide, exclaimed, "Let us take the General up in our arms, and carry him off!" but Jackson recovered from his swoon, and though very faint and pale, replied, "No; if yon can help me up, I can walk." Supported by the shoulders, he tottered towards the road. A litter was now procured, but it had scarcely begun to move, when one of the bearers was shot down, and the fire of the enemy's artillery became frightful. The enemy had probably perceived some cause of confusion in the Confederate ranks, or suspected that another attack was about to commence, and now swept the road where Jackson lay with the concentrated fire of their heaviest artillery. The bearers of the litter, and all Jackson's attendants, excepting Major Leigh, and Lieuts. Smith and Morrison, fled in the woods on either hand to escape the fatal tempest. It was a weird and appalling scene. Wild curves of fire shot athwart the night sky; there were broken ranks and riderless horses in the woods; and in the interval of all this roar and confusion were distinctly heard the plaintive notes of the whippoorwills in the forest. It seemed that nothing could live in the road, where Jackson lay prostrate with his feet to the foe. On one side of the sufferer lay Major Leigh, and on the other Lieut. Smith. The earth was torn around them; Minié-balls flew hissing over them; as the iron hail fell in the road, they could hear the feet of Death pattering around them. Jackson endeavoured to rise, when Lieut. Smith threw his arm over him, and held him to the ground, saying, "Sir, you must lie still; it will cost you your life if you rise."

None of the party hoped to escape unhurt from the tempest of fire; and it appeared, indeed, as if the spirit of the great commander was to go out in that great diapason of battle, which rung its solemn charges through the forest; while through its foliage escaped the startled night-birds, and the moonlit sky hung peacefully above the Wilderness.

But it was not so ordered. Presently the fire of the enemy veered from the road, and the devoted officers who had almost miraculously escaped death, assisting Jackson to rise, struck into the woods, the General dragging himself painfully along until a litter was again procured. The party had proceeded but a short distance when one of the litter-bearers stumbled, and Jackson fell upon the shoulder where the bone had been shattered. The pain must have been exquisite, and for the first time the sufferer groaned, and most piteously. When he reached the field hospital at Wilderness Run, he was almost pulseless; his hands were cold, his skin clammy, his face pale, and his lips compressed and bloodless. Stimulants were freely applied, and the next morning he was free from pain, and his physicians were hopeful of his recovery.

At this time the last drama of the battle of Chancellorsville was being enacted, and Lee was completing the victory which Jackson had commenced and assured. The news of the complete victory was brought to the sufferer, and he was told how the Stonewall Brigade had joined in the final charge, shouting, "Remember Jackson!" and how, when their commander, Paxton, fell, they rushed forward, unconscious of his absence, led, as it were, by the name which formed their battle-cry. He was deeply affected by the incident. He said: "The men of that brigade will be, some day, proud to say to their children, 'I was one of the Stonewall Brigade!'" Visitors and letters crowded upon the distinguished sufferer, who it was yet hoped would recover. Gen. Lee wrote: "I have just received your note, informing me that you were wounded. I cannot express my regret at the occurrence. Could I have directed events, I should have chosen for the good of the country, to have been disabled in your stead. I congratulate you on the victory which is due to your skill and energy." Upon reading it, Jackson reverently said: "Gen. Lee should give the glory to God."

On the fifth day of his sufferings, symptoms of pneumonia were

discovered, and when the week passed, his condition was such that his wife, who attended him, was informed that his recovery was very doubtful, and that she should be prepared for the worst. The prospect of death produced no change in the Christian hero. When informed of it by his wife, he was silent for a moment, and then said: "It will be infinite gain to be translated to heaven.” He advised his wife, in the event of his death, to return to her father's house, and added, " You have a kind and good father, but there is no one so kind and good as your Heavenly Father." He still expressed a hope of his recovery, but requested her, if he should die, to have him buried in Lexington, in the Valley of Virginia. His exhaustion increased so rapidly that, at eleven o'clock, Mrs. Jackson knelt by his bed and told him that before the sun went down he would be with his Saviour. He replied, "Oh, no! you are frightened, my child; death is not so near; I may yet get well." She fell over upon the bed, weeping bitterly, and told him again that the physicians said there was no hope. After a moment's pause he asked her to call Dr. McGuire. "Doctor, Anna informs me that you have told her that I am to die to-day; is it so?" When he was answered, he turned his eyes towards the ceiling and gazed for a moment or two, as if in intense thought, then replied, "Very good, very good; it is all right."

Col. Pendleton came into the room about one o'clock, and he asked him, "Who was preaching at headquarters to-day?" When told that the whole army was praying for him, he replied: "Thank God! they are very kind." He said: "It is the Lord's day; my wish is fulfilled. I have always desired to die on Sunday."

That delirium which appears to seize upon the most powerful organizations in the moment of death, began to affect him. His mind began to fail and wander, and he frequently talked as if in command upon the field, giving orders in his old way; then the scene shifted, and he was at the mess-table, in conversation with members of his staff; now with his wife and child; now at prayers with his military family. Occasional intervals of return of his mind would appear, and during one of them his physician offered him some brandy-and-water, but he declined it, saying, "It will only delay my departure, and do no good; I want to preserve my mind, if possible, to the last." About half-past one he was told that he had but two hours to live, and he answered again, feebly

but firmly, "Very good; it is all right." A few moments before he died, he cried out in his delirium, "Order A. P. Hill to prepare for action! pass the infantry to the front rapidly! tell Major Hawks" -then stopped, leaving the sentence unfinished. Presently a smile of ineffable sweetness spread itself over his pale face, and he said quietly, and with an expression as if of relief, "Let us cross over the river, and rest under the shade of the trees;" and then without pain or the least struggle, his spirit passed from earth to the mansions of the eternal and just.

Gen. Jackson's death was officially announced to the army in which he served by the following order, which was issued by the Commanding General:

HEADQUARTERS, ARMY OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA, May 11, 1863. With deep grief the Commanding-General announces to the army the death of Lieutenant-General T. J. Jackson, who expired on the 10th instant, at a quarter-past three P.M. The daring, skill, and energy of this great and good soldier, by an all-wise Providence are now lost to us. But while we mourn his death, we feel that his spirit still lives, and will inspire the whole army with his indomitable courage and unshaken confidence in God as our hope and strength. Let his name be a watchword to his corps, who have followed him to victory on so many fields. Let the officers and soldiers imitate his invincible determination to do everything in the defense of our beloved country.

R. E. LEE, General.

The remains were carried to Richmond, which clothed herself in mourning. Had a visible pall overspread the city, it could not have expressed grief more profound, nor sorrow more universal, than that which filled every bosom and sat upon every countenance. The public heart was full of grief to bursting. The special train bearing the remains advanced into the city through an avenue which for two miles was thronged with multitudes of men and women. It drove slowly up into the dépot, the bells of the city meanwhile sending their solemn peals over the city and into thousands of throbbing hearts. The coffin was removed from the car and enshrouded with the flag under which the Christian hero fought and fell, covered with spring flowers and placed upon the hearse in waiting.