Up to this time, from five o’clock in the morning, the deafening roar of musketry, and the booming of a hundred cannon had known hardly any cessation from any point of the bloody field.
And yet the brave patriots held their position. Could human endurance do more? They too, were suffering; not slain so lavishly as the enemy, because sheltered; but their ranks were sensibly thinning. Half past nine o’clock—the column was growing weak; ten o’clock—the work of death still went on. Ten thousand brave men had closed their eyes in death within the past five hours.
Two thousand an hour slain! Ten thousand more had been mangled and crippled for life. The ratio of deaths to the simply wounded, was never equalled in war. One to one. The Unionists mowed the enemy down by brigades; they wounded only by dozens and scores. Could the Union men endure the exertion long enough? Even though the rebels did so greatly outnumber them, they should finally be destroyed. But the Federal troops were exhausted.
Half past ten o’clock. The ranks were broken. From sheer fatigue the men had given way. One entrance into their rifle pits and the still dense masses of the enemy made but short work of clearing them. But though repulsed, the Union troops were not disordered. Like veterans, every column fell back in order; and the line was re-established at the old brick house, Chancellorsville, General Hooker’s headquarters.
While standing upon the porch of the house General Hooker narrowly escaped death from a shell which struck a pillar of the house close beside him, and threw him down, completely stunning him for the time. A short time afterwards, another shell, striking against the house, entered, and exploded. The building was almost instantly in flames; and great numbers of the unfortunate wounded men within it perished in the fire. That the rebels had won the day could no longer be denied; already the necessity of a retreat began to be whispered about, and the position of the National troops, as well as General Hooker’s condition of mind, was far from enviable. The night was a dreary and melancholy one; and the day that followed was anxious and busy. Many fierce skirmishes took place; although no decisive battle was fought throughout the day. On Tuesday the recrossing of the river was definitely fixed upon; and the night proving dark and rainy, the humiliating retreat began, at ten o’clock, in the midst of gloom and universal despondency. The river had risen very much owing to the recent rains. The troops reached their old camping ground on the left bank of the Rappahannock, without much difficulty, and without being pursued by Lee.
SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF STONEWALL JACKSON.
Born January 24, 1824—Died May 10, 1863.
A noteworthy incident of the sanguinary battle of Chancellorsville was the accidental shooting of the rebel General Stonewall Jackson, by his own troops. This casualty occurred on the evening of May 2d, 1863. It may be interesting—since Stonewall Jackson, if not the ablest, was the most brilliant officer in the service of the rebellion—to preface the narrative of his death with some account of his civil and military career.
Thomas Jefferson Jackson—who, as we have seen, acquired the soubriquet of “Stonewall,” was born at Clarksburg, Harrison Co., Va., January 21, 1824. The first years of his life were spent on his uncle’s farm. In 1842 he became a cadet at West Point, from which military school he graduated in 1846, in the same class with McClellan and other students, subsequently distinguished in the Civil War. As a boy and as a young man, Jackson was noted for gravity of manners and reticence of nature; quiet, studious, and thoughtful at all times, he was also deeply religious in temperament and in faith. In the Mexican War, in 1848, he served under General Taylor and under General Scott, and distinguished himself at Contreras, Churubusco, and Chepultepec. In 1852, he resigned his commission, being in ill health, and was afterwards appointed Professor of Mathematics, in the Military Institute of Virginia. The breaking out of the Rebellion found him there, and entering the rebel service, he received a Lieutenant’s commission from Governor Letcher of Virginia. His participation in the war was brief, but was marked by daring exploits and many successes. He bore a conspicuous part in the first battle of Bull Run, and as we have seen, made a dashing and successful raid up the valley of the Shenandoah, pursuing Banks to the Potomac, and getting away unscathed. He also took part in the battle of Malvern, and he greatly harassed General Pope, during the campaign of that officer. The capture of Harper’s Ferry was, in part, due to his strategy; and he was engaged in the bloody battle of Antietam. He also participated in the battle of Fredericksburg, and defeated Burnside’s left wing, commanded by General Franklin. At the battle of Chancellorsville his rank was that of Lieutenant-General, equivalent to that of a corps commander, in the United States Army. His operations in the latter fight have already been described. The manner of his death was peculiar, and is worthy of minute description. Late in the afternoon of the 2d of May, he had attacked and routed the Eleventh United States Army Corps, under General Howard, forming part of the rear of the Federal right wing. At about 8 o’clock in the evening, when returning from this attack, attended by his staff, the cavalcade was mistaken, by the rebels, for a body of Union cavalry, and was fired upon, in the darkness. Jackson was struck by three balls. One passed through the left arm, two inches below the shoulder joint, shattering the bone and severing the chief artery; another ball passed through the same arm between the elbow and wrist, making its exit through the palm of the hand; a third ball entered the palm of the right hand about its middle, passing through, and broke two bones. He was wounded on the plank road, about fifty yards in advance of the enemy. He fell from his horse, and was caught by Captain Wormley, to whom he remarked, “All my wounds are by my own men.” He had given orders for his men to fire at any one coming Up the road, before he left the lines. The Union skirmishers appeared ahead of him, and he turned to ride back. Just then some one cried out, “Cavalry charge!” and immediately the regiment fired. The whole party then broke forward to ride through the rebel line to escape the fire. Captain Boswell was killed, and carried through the line by his horse, and fell among his own men. Colonel Couchfield, Chief-of-Staff, was wounded by his side. Two couriers were killed. Major Pendleton, Lieutenants Morrison and Smith, escaped uninjured. General Jackson was immediately placed on a litter and started for the rear; but the firing had attracted the attention of the Unionists, and it was resumed by both lines. One litter-bearer was shot down, and Jackson fell from the shoulders of the men, receiving a severe contusion, adding to the injury of the arm, and severely injuring his side.
At this point the Unionists swept the field with artillery, and the wounded man was left for five minutes, until the fire slackened, when he was placed in an ambulance, and carried to the field hospital at Wilderness Run. He lost a large amount of blood, and at one time told Doctor M’Guire he thought he was dying, and would have bled to death, but that a tourniquet was immediately applied. For two hours he was almost pulseless. As he was being carried from the field, frequent inquiries were made by the soldiers, “Who have you there?” He told the doctor, “Do not tell the troops I am wounded.”
At the hospital his arm was amputated, while he was under the influence of chloroform. He slept on Sunday morning, was cheerful, and was doing well. On Monday he was carried to Chancellor’s house, near Guiney’s depot.