Lee’s reply ran:—­

“General,—­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 be disabled in your stead.

“I congratulate you upon the victory, which is due to your skill and energy.

“Very respectfully, your obedient servant,

“R.  E. Lee, General.”

Such was the tribute, not the less valued that it was couched in no exaggerated terms, which was brought to the bedside in the quiet hospital.  Jackson was almost alone.  As the sound of cannon and musketry, borne across the forest, grew gradually louder, he had ordered all those who had remained with him, except Mr. Smith, to return to the battle-field and attend to their different duties.

His side, injured by his fall from the litter, gave him much pain, but his thoughts were still clear, and his speech coherent.  “General Lee,” he said, when his aide-de-camp read to him the Commander-in-Chief’s brief words, “is very kind, but he should give the praise to God.”

During the day the pain gradually ceased; the general grew brighter, and from those who visited the hospital he inquired minutely about the battle and the troops engaged.  When conspicuous instances of courage were related his face lit up with enthusiasm, and he uttered his usual “Good, good,” with unwonted energy when the gallant behaviour of his old command was alluded to.  “Some day,” he said, “the men of that brigade will be proud to say to their children, “I was one of the Stonewall Brigade.”  He disclaimed all right of his own to the name Stonewall:  “It belongs to the brigade and not to me."” That night he slept well, and was free from pain.

Meanwhile the Confederate army, resting on the heights of Chancellorsville, preparatory to an attack upon Hooker’s second stronghold, had received untoward news.  Sedgwick, at eleven o’clock in the morning, had carried Marye’s Hill, and, driving Early before him, was moving up the plank road.  Wilcox’ brigade of Anderson’s division, then at Banks’ Ford, was ordered to retard the advance of the hostile column.  McLaws was detached to Salem Church.  The Second Army Corps and the rest of Anderson’s division remained to hold Hooker in check, and for the moment operations at Chancellorsville were suspended.

McLaws, deploying his troops in the forest, two hundred and fifty yards from a wide expanse of cleared ground, pushed his skirmishers forward to the edge, and awaited the attack of a superior force.  Reserving his fire to close quarters, its effect was fearful.  But the Federals pushed forward; a school-house occupied as an advanced post was captured, and at this point Sedgwick was within an ace of breaking through.  His second line, however, had not yet deployed, and a vigorous counterstroke, delivered by two brigades, drove back the whole of his leading division in great disorder.  As night fell the Confederates, careful not to expose themselves to the Union reserves, retired to the forest, and Sedgwick, like Hooker, abandoned all further idea of offensive action.