It was long, however, before the men could be assembled, and the delay was increased by an unfortunate incident.  Jackson’s chief of artillery, pressing forward up the plank road to within a thousand yards of Chancellorsville, opened fire with three guns upon the enemy’s position.  This audacious proceeding evoked a quick reply.  Such Federal guns as could be brought to bear were at once turned upon the road, and although the damage done was small, A.P.  Hill’s brigades, just coming up into line, were for the moment checked; under the hail of shell and canister the artillery horses became unmanageable, the drivers lost their nerve, and as they rushed to the rear some of the infantry joined them, and a stampede was only prevented by the personal efforts of Jackson, Colston, and their staff-officers.  Colonel Crutchfield was then ordered to cease firing; the Federals did the same; and A.P.  Hill’s brigades, that of General Lane leading, advanced to the deserted breastworks, while two brigades, one from Rodes’ division and one from Colston’s, were ordered to guard the roads from Hazel Grove.

8.45 P.M.

These arrangements made, Jackson proceeded to join his advanced line.  At the point where the track to the White House and United States ford strikes the plank road he met General Lane, seeking his instructions for the attack.  They were sufficiently brief:  “Push right ahead, Lane; right ahead!” As Lane galloped off to his command, General Hill and some of his staff came up, and Jackson gave Hill his orders.  “Press them; cut them off from the United States Ford, Hill; press them.”  General Hill replied that he was entirely unacquainted with the topography of the country, and asked for an officer to act as guide.  Jackson directed Captain Boswell, his chief engineer, to accompany General Hill, and then, turning to the front, rode up the plank road, passing quickly through the ranks of the 18th North Carolina of Lane’s brigade.  Two or three hundred yards eastward the general halted, for the ringing of axes and the words of command were distinctly audible in the enemy’s lines.

While the Confederates were re-forming, Hooker’s reserves had reached the front, and Berry’s regiments, on the Fairview heights, using their bayonets and tin-plates for intrenching tools, piling up the earth with their hands, and hacking down the brushwood with their knives, were endeavouring in desperate haste to provide some shelter, however slight, against the rush that they knew was about to come.

After a few minutes, becoming impatient for the advance of Hill’s division, Jackson turned and retraced his steps towards his own lines.  “General,” said an officer who was with him, “you should not expose yourself so much.”  “There is no danger, sir, the enemy is routed.  Go back and tell General Hill to press on.”

Once more, when he was only sixty or eighty yards from where the 18th North Carolina were standing in the trees, he drew rein and listened—­the whole party, generals, staff-officers, and couriers, hidden in the deep shadows of the silent woods.  At this moment a single rifle-shot rang out with startling suddenness.