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skirmishers, and under a heavy fire of artillery. Some of his men becoming aware of his danger, rushed forward, and plucked, from the terrible fire of artillery, the prostrate form of their beloved commander. He was placed in an ambulance, and carried to the field hospital at Wilderness Run.

With Jackson's fall the impetus of the Confederate attack ceased. Gen. Stuart, who succeeded to the command, renewed the fight at nine o'clock, and continued it until the enemy's right had been doubled in on his centre in and around Chancellorsville. But the fiery energy of Jackson was wanting to carry forward the troops, and to make what was already a severe repulse of the enemy a terrible and irremediable disaster.

A messenger was despatched to Gen. Lee, with the intelligence of the wounding of his great lieutenant. He found the General on a bed of straw about four o'clock in the morning. He told him that Jackson was severely wounded, and that it had been his intention to press the enemy next day-Sunday-if he had not fallen. Gen. Lee quietly said, "These people shall be pressed to-day." The grand, simple commander never had any other name for the enemy than "these people." He rose from his bed of straw, partook of his simple fare of ham and cracker, sallied forth, and made such dispositions as rendered that Sabbath-day a blessed one for the Confederacy.

At day-break, on the 3d, the three divisions of Jackson's old corps advanced to the attack. Meanwhile Anderson's division was pushed forward by Gen. Lee to assault the strongly-entrenched position of the enemy in front of Chancellorsville. On one side the Federals were being forced back in the direction of Chancellorsville. On the other side Anderson's men pressed through the woods, over the fields, up the hills, into the very mouths of the enemy's guns, and forced him to take shelter behind a second line of entrenchments in rear of Chancellorsville. There were ladies at Hooker's headquarters, in the large house which gave the name to the battle-field. They were taken away by one of Hooker's staff, as the firing became hot. One of the ladies fainted. It was a forlorn sight to see that troupe passing through the Federal lines at such a time. Soon after they left, the house, which was a large and elegant structure, took fire, and burned to the ground. Hooker's headquarters were transferred to the rear, and his crippled army, surrounded on all sides, except toward the river, was anxious now only for retreat.

It was ten o'clock in the morning. The capture or destruction of Hooker's army now appeared certain. But just then news was received that Sedgwick, who had crossed the river at Fredericksburg, had taken Marye's Heights, which had been held by Barksdale's brigade, less than two thousand men, and six pieces of the Washington Artillery. The hill was flanked, and its brave defenders, who had held it against three

assaults, were cut off from their supports, and compelled to surrender. Gen. Early, finding that Sedgwick had gained this position on his left, and was pressing forward his forces towards Chancellorsville, withdrew, and took up a position near Salem Church, about five miles from Fredericksburg, where he threw up some slight field-works.

The movement of Sedgwick made it necessary for Gen. Lee to arrest the pursuit of Hooker, and caused him to send back towards Fredericksburg the division of McLaw to support Early and check the enemy's advance. On the evening of the 3d, Sedgwick's advanced troops were driven back without difficulty. On the 4th the battle was renewed. The enemy was evidently attempting to establish communication with Hooker along the river road, and for this purpose had massed a heavy force against McLaw's left. A portion of Anderson's force was marched fifteen miles to his support; but Gen. Lee, who had come upon the field, having discovered the enemy's design, ordered Anderson to unite with Early, so as to attack that part of the enemy's line which he had weakened by his demonstration on McLaw, and thus threaten his communication with Fredericksburg. The combined attack was made just before sunset. Sedgwick's men hardly waited to receive it; they fled precipitately towards Banks' Ford; and during the night they recrossed the river in the condition of an utterly defeated and demoralized army.

Thus, on the night of the 4th of May ended the remarkable series of battles on the lines of the Rappahannock. There had been three distinct engagements that of the Wilderness, where Jackson succeeded in turning the enemy's flank; that most properly called the battle of Chancellorsville, around which point the enemy centred and made his best fight; and that of Salem Church which closed with Sedgwick's rout and retreat across the river.

The enemy was now driven from every point around Fredericksburg, and it but remained to make short work of Hooker at United States Ford. That commander, cowed and hemmed in within his straitened lines by a few Confederate divisions, had scarcely fired a gun while Sedgwick's corps, a few miles off, was being overwhelmed and driven back in disgraceful confusion. He called a council of war, and determined to retreat. The night of the 5th afforded him the opportunity; there was a drenching storm of wind and rain; pontoons were laid; the several corps crossed the river; and the next morning the enemy's whole force was over the river, and on the march to its former camps at Falmouth.*

It is curious to notice the hardy falsehoods of official dispatches. Although Hooker had sustained one of the worst defeats in the war, he issued the following rubbish in a congratulatory address (!) to his army:

"General Order, No. 49.

"The Major-General Commanding tenders to the army his congratulations on its achievements of the last seven days. If it has not accomplished all that was expected, the reasons are well

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The loss of the enemy was terrible. We had taken nearly eight thousand prisoners; Northern accounts stated Sedgwick's loss at five thousand; that of Hooker in killed and wounded was probably twice as large; and but little is risked in putting all his losses at twenty-five thousand men. Gen. Lee's loss was less than ten thousand. He had won one of the most remarkable victories on record; illustrated the highest quality of generalship, the self-possession and readiness of a great commander, and confirmed a reputation now the first in war. Indeed, this reputation had not properly commenced in the Seven Days Battles around Richmond; for it was only when Lee moved out to the lines of the Rappahannock that there commenced the display of his great tactical abilities. He had now fought the most difficult and brilliant battle of the war. Amid all the achievements and wonders of his future career, Chancellorsville must ever remain the master-piece of his military life.

Now and then there were developed in the South certain facts and figures concerning the war, officially verified, and so unlike the stories of the newspaper and the printed catchpenny, that the public mind was startled from former convictions, and put on a new train of inquiry. This was especially so with reference to the unequal match of force in the war. The Southern people had a general impression that they were largely outnumbered in the contest; that the North was greatly superiour in men, material, and all the apparatus of conquest. But their notions of this inequality were vague, and in no instance came up to the full measure of

known to the army. It is sufficient to say, that they were of a character not to be foreseen or prevented by human sagacity or resources.

"In withdrawing from the south bank of the Rappahannock before delivering a general battle to our adversaries, the army has given renewed evidence of its confidence in itself and its fidelity to the principles it represents.

"By fighting at a disadvantage, we would have been recreant to our trust, to ourselves, to our cause, and to our country. Professedly loyal and conscious of its strength, the Army of the Potomac will give or decline battle whenever its interests or honour may command it.

"By the celerity and secrecy of our movements, our advance and passage of the river was undisputed, and on our withdrawal not a rebel dared to follow us. The events of the last week may well cause the heart of every officer and soldier of the army to swell with pride.

"We have added new laurels to our former renown. We have made long marches, crossed rivers, surprised the enemy in his entrenchments, and wherever we have fought we have inflicted heavier blows than those we have received.

"We have taken from the enemy 5,000 prisoners and fifteen colours, captured seven pieces of artillery, and placed hors de combat 18,000 of our foe's chosen troops.

"We have destroyed his depôts, filled with vast amounts of stores, damaged his communications, captured prisoners within the fortifications of his capital, and filled his country with fear and consternation.

"We have no other regret than that caused by the loss of our brave companions, and in this we are consoled by the conviction that they have fallen in the holiest cause ever submitted to the arbitration of battle.

"S. WILLIAMS, Assistant-Adjt.-General."

"By command of Major-General HOOKER,

the Northern advantage in this respect. It was the policy of the Confederate Government to keep all military matters secret, and to give, even to our own people, exaggerated impressions of the strength of our forces in the field. Our armies were always popularly accounted much larger than they really were, and a pleasant delusion was maintained, until some occasion would bring out official figures, and shock the public with surprise. Who would have supposed, until Beauregard's official figures were published, that the army of the First Manassas numbered less than thirty thousand men, and that five Confederate regiments on that field held in check, for two hours, a column of fifteen thousand Federal infantry? Who would have imagined, looking at the newspapers of the day, that Albert Sidney Johnston, who was popularly expected, in the first year of the war, to take Cincinnati, and to march to the Northern Lakes, never had more than twenty-odd thousand men to meet all the emergencies of the early campaign in Kentucky and Tennessee? Who would have believed, unless on the official authority of the great Confederate Chieftain himself, that Gen. Lee whipped "the finest army on the planet," under Hooker, with less than one-third his force? These are matters of official history, and stand in sharp contrast to the swollen narratives of the newspaper, and in singular relations to the Northern assertion of martial prowess in the war.

While the great victory of Chancellorsville was causing joy and congratulation throughout the Confederacy, Gen. Stonewall Jackson lay dying at a small farm-house, a few miles from where he had led his last and most famous attack. No one had supposed that his wounds would prove mortal; it had already been announced from his physician that amputation had been decided upon, and he would probably very soon thereafter be in a condition to be removed to Richmond. But while preparations were being made there to receive the distinguished sufferer, there came the appalling news that an attack of pneumonia had supervened, and that there were no hopes of his recovery. He expired on Sunday, the eighth day of his suffering. He had declared: "If I live it will be for the best-and if I die, it will be for the best; God knows and directs all things for the best." His last moments were mostly occupied with lively expressions of that trust and confidence in God, which had marked his life for many years, and which he had carried into all the details of his wonderful career. There were various reports of his last words. They were not religious ones. His last utterance in the delirium that preceded death was: "Tell Major Hawks to send forward provisions to the men. Let us cross over the river and rest under the shade of the trees." And thus passed over the dark river and into eternal rest, the spirit of the great man, whose exploits had been amongst the most brilliant in the military history of the world, and whose character must ever remain an interesting subject for the student of mankind.

THERE was probably no more ambitious man in the Southern Confederacy than "Stonewall" Jackson. The vulgar mind thinks that it easily discovers those who are the ambitious men in a community. It readily designates as such those who aspire to office and public positions, who seek sensations, court notoriety in newspapers, and hold up their hands for the applause of the multitude. But ambition, in its true and noble sense, is very different from these coarse bids for popular favour. There is a class of apparently quiet minds which, choosing seclusion and mystery, and wearing an air of absence, or even misanthropy, moving in their daily walks with an appearance of profound unconcern, are yet living for history, and are daily and nightly consumed with the fires of ambition. It is this sort of ambition which cherishes and attempts ideals; which is founded on a deep and unconquerable self-esteem; and which is often haughtily and even grimly silent, from a consciousness of its own powers, or an ever present belief in its destiny.

Of such an order of ambition those who knew Gen. Jackson best declare that he was singularly possessed. He believed in his destiny, whatever religious name he chose to attach to that transcendental and ravishing sentiment; he was fond of repeating to his intimate friends that "mystery was the secret of success;" and because he went about his work with a silent and stern manner, that was no proof of the opinion. of the populace, that he was simply a machine of conscientious motives, with no sentiment in his composition but that of duty.

It is not unfrequently the experience of truly great men, that they have to live through a period of utter misapprehension of their worth, and often of intense ridicule. Such was the painful experience of Gen. Jackson. At the Virginia Military School at Lexington, where he was a professor before the war, he was thought to be stupid and harmless, and he was often the butt of the academic wit of that institution. Col. Gillem, who taught tactics there, was taken to be the military genius of the place, and afterwards gave evidence of the correctness of this appreciation by actually losing, during the war, in the mountains of Northwestern Virginia the only regiment that he was ever trusted to command. At the battle of Manassas, despite the critical and splendid service which Jackson did there (for he stayed the retreat in the rear of the Robinson House, and in the subsequent charge pierced the enemy's centre), his stiff and odd figure drew upon him the squibs of all the newspaper correspondents on the field. His habit of twisting his head, and interpolating "Sir” in all his remarks was humorously described in the Charleston Mercury. At a