2. II.
Such was the fatal result of this causeless fire. It had ceased
as suddenly as it began, and the position in the road which
Jackson now occupied was the same from which he had been
driven. Captain Wilbourn, who with Mr. Wynn, of the signal
corps, was all that was left of the party, notices a singular circumstance
which attracted his attention at this moment. The
turnpike was utterly deserted with the exception of himself, his
companion, and Jackson; but in the skirting of thicket on the
left he observed some one sitting on his horse, by the side of the
road, and coolly looking on, motionless and silent. The unknown
individual was clad in a dark dress which strongly resembled
the Federal uniform; but it seemed impossible that one
of the enemy could have penetrated to that spot without being
discovered, and what followed seemed to prove that he belonged
to the Confederates. Captain Wilbourn directed him to “ride
up there and see what troops those were”—the men who had
fired on Jackson—when the stranger slowly rode in the direction
pointed out, but never returned. Who this silent personage
was, is left to conjecture.
Captain Wilbourn, who was standing by Jackson, now said,
“They certainly must be our troops,” to which the General assented
with a nod of the head, but said nothing. He was looking
up the road toward his lines with apparent astonishment,
and continued for some time to look in that direction as if unable
to realize that he could have been fired upon and wounded by
his own men. His wound was bleeding profusely, the blood
streaming down so as to fill his gauntlets, and it was necessary
to secure assistance promptly. Captain Wilbourn asked him if
he was much injured, and urged him to make an effort to move
his fingers, as his ability to do this would prove that his arm was
not broken. He endeavoured to do so, looking down at his
hand during the attempt, but speedily gave it up, announcing
that his arm was broken. An effort which his companion made
to straighten it caused him great pain, and murmuring, “You
had better take me down,” he leaned forward and fell into Captain
Wilbourn's arms. He was so much exhausted by loss of
blood that he was unable to take his feet out of the stirrups, and
this was done by Mr. Wynn. He was then carried to the side
of the road and laid under a small tree, where Captain Wilbourn
supported his head while his companion went for a surgeon and
ambulance to carry him to the rear, receiving strict instructions,
however, not to mention the occurrence to any one but Dr.
McGuire, or other surgeon. Captain Wilbourn then made an
examination of the General's wounds. Removing his field-glasses
and haversack, which latter contained some paper and
envelopes for dispatches, and two religious tracts, he put these
on his own person for safety, and with a small pen-knife proceeded
to cut away the sleeves of the india-rubber overall, dresscoat,
and two shirts, from the bleeding arm.
While this duty was being performed, General Hill rode up
with his staff, and dismounting beside the general expressed his
great regret at the accident. To the question whether his wound
was painful, Jackson replied, “Very painful,” and added that
“his arm was broken.” General Hill pulled off his gauntlets,
which were full of blood, and his sabre and belt were also removed.
He then seemed easier, and having swallowed a mouthful
of whiskey, which was held to his lips, appeared much refreshed.
It seemed impossible to move him without making his
wounds bleed afresh, but it was absolutely necessary to do so,
as the enemy were not more than a hundred and fifty yards distant,
and might advance at any moment—and all at once a proof
was given of the dangerous position which he occupied. Captain
Adams, of General Hill's staff, had ridden ten or fifteen
yards ahead of the group, and was now heard calling out, “Halt!
surrender! fire on them if they don't surrender!” At the next
moment he came up with two Federal skirmishers who had at
once surrendered, with an air of astonishment, declaring that
they were not aware they were in the Confederate lines.
General Hill had drawn his pistol and mounted his horse;
and he now returned to take command of his line and advance,
promising Jackson to keep his accident from the knowledge of
the troops, for which the general thanked him. He had scarcely
gone when Lieutenant Morrison, who had come up, reported the
Federal line advancing rapidly, and then within about a hundred
yards of the spot, and exclaimed: “Let us take the General up
in our arms and carry him off.” But Jackson said faintly, “No,
if you can help me up, I can walk.” He was accordingly lifted
up and placed upon his feet, when the Federal batteries in front
opened with great violence, and Captain Leigh, who had just
arrived with a litter, had his horse killed under him by a shell.
He leaped to the ground, near Jackson, and the latter leaning
his right arm on Captain Leigh's shoulder, slowly dragged himself
along toward the Confederate lines, the blood from his
wounded arm flowing profusely over Captain Leigh's uniform.
Hill's lines were now in motion to meet the coming attack,
and as the men passed Jackson, they saw from the number and
rank of his escort that he must be a superior officer. “Who is
that—who have you there?” was asked, to which the reply was,
“Oh! it's only a friend of ours who is wounded.” These inquiries
became at last so frequent that Jackson said to his escort:
“When asked, just say it is a Confederate officer.”
It was with the utmost difficulty that the curiosity of the
troops was evaded. They seemed to suspect something, and
would go around the horses which were led along on each side
of the General to conceal him, to see if they could discover who
it was. At last one of them caught a glimpse of the general,
who had lost his cap, as we have seen, in the woods, and was
walking bareheaded in the moonlight—and suddenly the man
exclaimed “in the most pitiful tone,” says an eye-witness:
“Great God! that is General Jackson!” An evasive reply was
made, implying that this was a mistake, and the man looked
from the speaker to Jackson with a bewildered air, but passed
on without further comment. All this occurred before Jackson
had been able to drag himself more than twenty steps; but
Captain Leigh had the litter at hand, and his strength being
completely exhausted, the General was placed upon it, and borne
toward the rear.
The litter was carried by two officers and two men, the rest
of the escort walking beside it and leading the horses. They
had scarcely begun to move, however, when the Federal artillery
opened a furious fire upon the turnpike from the works in
front of Chancellorsville, and a hurricane of shell and canister
swept the road. What the eye then saw was a scene of disordered
troops, riderless horses, and utter confusion. The intended
advance of the Confederates had doubtless been discovered, and
the Federal fire was directed along the road over which they
would move. By this fire Generals Hill and Pender, with several
of their staff, were wounded, and one of the men carrying
the litter was shot through both arms and dropped his burden.
His companion did likewise, hastily flying from the dangerous
locality, and but for Captain Leigh, who caught the handle of
the litter, it would have fallen to the ground. Lieutenant Smith
had been leading his own and the General's horse, but the animals
now broke away, in uncontrollable terror, and the rest of
the party scattered to find shelter. Under these circumstances
the litter was lowered by Captain Leigh and Lieutenant Smith
into the road, and those officers lay down by it to protect themselves,
in some degree, from the heavy fire of artillery which
swept the turnpike and “struck millions of sparks from the
flinty stones of the roadside.” Jackson raised himself upon his
elbow and attempted to get up, but Lieutenant Smith threw his
arm across his breast and compelled him to desist. They lay in
this manner for some minutes without moving, the hurricane
still sweeping over them. “So far as I could see,” wrote one of
the officers, “men and horses were struggling with a most terrible
death.” The road was, otherwise, deserted. Jackson and
his two officers were the sole living occupants of the spot.
The fire of canister soon relaxed, though that of shot and
shell continued; and Jackson rose to his feet. Leaning on the
shoulders of the party who had rejoined him, he turned aside
from the road, which was again filling with infantry, and struck
into the woods—one of the officers following with the litter.
Here he moved with difficulty among the troops who were lying
down in line of battle, and the party encountered General Pender,
who had just been slightly wounded. He asked who it was
that was wounded, and the reply was, “A Confederate officer.”
General Pender, however, recognised Jackson, and exclaimed:
“Ah! General, I am sorry to see you have been wounded. The
lines here are so much broken that I fear we will have to fall
back.” These words seemed to affect Jackson strongly. He
raised his head, and said with a flash of the eye, “You must
hold your ground, General Pender! you must hold your ground,
sir!” This was the last order Jackson ever gave upon the
field.
