The fire had suddenly ceased, and all was again still.  Only Captain Wilbourn and a courier were with Jackson, but a shadowy figure on horseback was seen in the edge of the wood near, silent and motionless.  When Captain Wilbourn called to this person, and directed him to ride back and see what troops had thus fired upon them, the silent figure disappeared, and did not return.  Who this could have been was long a mystery, but it appears, from a recent statement of General Revere, of the Federal army, that it was himself.  He had advanced to the front to reconnoitre, had come on the group at the foot of the tree, and, receiving the order above mentioned, had thought it prudent not to reveal his real character.  He accordingly rode into the wood, and regained his own lines.

A few words will terminate our account of this melancholy event in the history of the war—­the fall of Jackson.  He was supported to the rear by his officers, and during this painful progress gave his last order.  General Pender recognized him, and stated that he feared he could not hold his position.  Jackson’s eye flashed, and he replied with animation, “You must hold your ground, General Pender!  You must hold your ground, sir!”

He was now so weak as to be unable to walk, even leaning on the shoulders of his officers.  He was accordingly placed on a litter, and borne toward the rear.  Before the litter had gone far a furious artillery-fire swept the road from the direction of Chancellorsville, and the bearers lowered it to the earth and lay down beside it.  The fire relaxing, they again moved, but one of the bearers stumbled over a root and let the litter fall.  Jackson groaned, and as the moonlight fell upon his face it was seen to be so pale that he appeared to be about to die.  When asked if he was much hurt, he opened his eyes, however, and said, “No, my friend, don’t trouble yourself about me.”

He was then borne to the rear, placed in an ambulance, and carried to the hospital at the Old Wilderness Tavern, where he remained until he was taken to Guinea’s station, where he died.

Such was the fate of Lee’s great lieutenant—­the man whom he spoke of as his “right arm”—­whose death struck a chill to the hearts of the Southern people from which they never recovered.

V.

THE BATTLE OF CHANCELLORSVILLE.

General Lee was not informed of the misfortune which had befallen his great lieutenant until toward daybreak on the next morning.

This fact was doubtless attributable to the difficult character of the country; the interposition of the Federal army between the two Confederate wings, which rendered a long detour necessary in reaching Lee; and the general confusion and dismay attending Jackson’s fall.  It would be difficult, indeed, to form an exaggerated estimate of the condition of Jackson’s corps at this time.  The troops had been thrown