  While our hero was in the lower Valley, on the 11th of October, 1862, the Confederate Government bestowed upon him the rank of Lieutenant-General, next to the highest grade in the service. General Lee’s army was now divided into two great corps, one of which was given to Jackson, the other to Longstreet. These generals have been called the “two hands” of Lee. On the 18th of October, General Jackson’s corps was sent forward to destroy the Baltimore and Ohio railroad. This they did in the most complete way. Burning all the bridges and ripping up the cross-ties, they finished their work by setting fire to the ties and throwing the iron rails upon the heaps of blazing logs. After the work was done, Jackson rode over the whole distance, thirty miles, to see that the destruction was complete. Towards the end of October, Jackson moved his corps near the Blue Ridge mountains to watch the movements of McClellan, who was again crossing the Potomac with a vast army of one hundred and forty thousand men. General James Longstreet. But McClellan’s movements were so slow that he was removed from his command, and General Burnside was put in his place. The latter general resolved to try a new way to Richmond, and moved his army towards Fredericksburg, on the Rappahannock river. General Lee at once marched to that town to meet him. General Jackson was called from the Valley to the help of Lee, and reached that general’s camp on the 1st of December. The Southern army numbered in all about sixty-five thousand men. Of these, there were in Jackson’s corps twenty-five thousand. General Lee, with his two corps, was now upon the heights south of the Rappahannock river; while General Burnside, with five corps, held Stafford Heights, north of that river. The town of Fredericksburg was between the two armies. The winter set in early, and both armies suffered greatly from the cold. The Confederates were for the most part barefooted, without tents and warm clothes, and had only rations of fat meat and corn bread; but these trials did not lessen their valor. They dug out trenches and threw up breastworks, and waited for the advance of the enemy. On the 10th of December, General Burnside began to move his men over the river on pontoon bridges. One hundred and fifty big guns on Stafford Heights poured shot and shell upon the town of Fredericksburg, setting it on fire and causing many of the people to leave their homes. By the morning of the 13th, ninety thousand Federals had crossed the river. Longstreet held the Confederate left while Jackson held the right. The battle began by a fierce attack upon Jackson’s right, which onset was bravely met; for the men, fighting fiercely, drove the Federals back to the cover of their big guns. At eleven A. M., the Federals assaulted Longstreet’s position, but again and again they were driven back by the Confederates, who did not fire until the foe was close upon them. Charge after charge was made by the Federals, but to no purpose, for the grim Confederates held their own. When night came, thirteen thousand Federals lay dead or wounded upon the frozen plain, while the Confederates had lost five thousand brave men. There is no doubt that Jackson ordered a night attack upon Burnside’s beaten army, hoping thereby to turn a defeat into a rout, and to drive them pell-mell into the river, as he had done at Boteler’s ford; but his better judgment told him that it was unwise to send his men against the strong works along the river road, under the fierce fire of the cannon on Stafford Heights. So he recalled the order, and thus lost the chance of a decisive victory; for Burnside did not offer battle again, but on the night of the 16th, in the midst of a great storm of wind and rain, withdrew his forces to their post on Stafford Heights. Both armies now went into winter quarters. Jackson’s corps built huts in the forests, and made themselves as comfortable as possible, while their General accepted for his lodgings a cottage at Moss Neck, the home of Mr. Corbin. Here he set to work to write out reports to the government of his wonderful battles. This he did with great clearness and regard for the truth, recording briefly the exploits of his little army. Never had general a more glorious story to relate! Since the battle of Kernstown, in March, these brave men had fought the big battles of McDowell, Cross Keys, Port Republic, Cold Harbor, Malvern Hill, Cedar Run, Manassas, Harper’s Ferry, Antietam, and Fredericksburg—marched hundreds of miles, and captured thousands of prisoners. Never had they quailed in battle; when ammunition had given out they fought with stones, and when there had been no rations, they lived on roots and berries. So rapidly did they march from place to place that they were called the “foot cavalry,” and the knowledge that Jackson was “lost,” cast terror into the ranks of the toe. Even their best generals could not tell where Jackson would next be found. “During the battle of Cold Harbor,” relates one of Jackson’s men, “as we were taking back some prisoners, one of them said: ‘You think that you are doing great things here, but I tell you we are whipping “Old Jack” in the Valley like smoke.’ ‘Well, maybe you are,’ said I, ‘being as “Old Jack” is here. You’ve been fighting his men all day.’” Just then, Jackson rode by with his staff. “There’s our General,” said I; “now, how much are you whipping us in the Valley?” The man looked dazed, and said, “Well, my stars, if that ain’t ‘Old Jack!’” Indeed, the feats of Jackson had now made him famous. Not only his own people, but strangers from Europe made visits to the camp to see the great general and his men. During these months of rest, Jackson enjoyed greatly the visits of General Stuart, who made the mess merry with his jokes and gay laughter. He also made the acquaintance of little six-year-old Jane Corbin, who lived near by in the big house. Every evening when the work of the day was over, she would run across to see the General, who would always have some little present for her. One evening, having no other gift for her, he ripped off the one band of gold braid from around his new cap, and placed it upon her sunny brow. This lovely child lived only a few months thereafter. The very day on which General Jackson left Moss Neck in the spring, little Jane was seized with scarlet-fever and died after being ill only one day. General Jackson mourned greatly for his little friend. About the same time he heard of the illness of his own baby daughter, whom he had never seen. He had never had a furlough since leaving Lexington, and in April, since he could not visit his dear ones, they came to him. He found a quiet home for his wife near by, and great was his pleasure in nursing and caressing his little daughter. He gave her his mother’s name—Julia. General Jackson crowning Jane Corbin. During the winter, at Moss Neck, the piety of General Jackson seemed ever to increase. His chief thought was to live for the glory of God. He often worshiped with his men in the log church which they had built in the forest, and toiled early and late for their welfare. Cooke, the historian, tells us that one day, while talking with a member of his staff about the great battle which he knew would soon take place, he said: “My trust is in God.” A brief silence followed these words, and then, rising to his feet, he exclaimed, with flashing eyes, “I wish they would come.” The spirit of battle was upon him, and he longed to go forward to the fray, which proved to be the last, but not least, of his wonderful exploits. General Burnside had been removed from command of the Federal army after the battle of Fredericksburg, and General Hooker, “Fighting Joe,” as he was called, was put in his place. His army now numbered about one hundred and fifty thousand men. General Lee’s army, to the number of forty-five thousand men, lay entrenched upon the southern banks of the Rappahannock river. General Longstreet’s corps was now absent in Suffolk county, so Lee had not one-third as many men as Hooker. Hooker’s plan was to divide his army into two parts. The smaller part was to cross the river near Fredericksburg and engage the Confederates in battle, while the larger part would march up the northern bank of the Rappahannock river, and, crossing over, reach the flank of Lee’s army, which would thus have the foe in front and also in the rear. At the same time Hooker planned to send a large troop of cavalry to reach and destroy the railroads leading to Richmond, thus cutting General Lee off from the capital. This was a bold plan, but one that was easily guessed by such soldiers as Lee, Jackson, and Stuart. The last named kept watch, and as soon as a movement was made, reported it to Lee. Lee at once fell back to Chancellorsville, but not until the main army under General Hooker himself had reached “The Wilderness” beyond Chancellorsville, and thrown up strong earthworks. The left wing of Hooker’s army, under General Sedgwick, crossed the river below Fredericksburg on the 29th of April, and was at once met by Jackson, who was ever watchful. Sedgwick, however, did not intend to fight, but merely to keep General Lee at Fredericksburg while Hooker was gaining the point on Lee’s flank. General Lee promptly guessed the plan, and ordered General Jackson to leave only one division in front of Sedgwick, to proceed at once in search of Hooker, and to attack and repulse him. This order reached Jackson about eight P. M., and by midnight his troops were on the march. Early the next day they reached the battle-field, where the troops of General Anderson were already engaged with the enemy. Lee, Jackson, and Stuart at the battle of Fredericksburg. Jackson halted his column, and sending four brigades to the support of Anderson, drew up the remainder of the corps in line of battle upon a ridge near by. The battle raged fiercely all day, and when night came, the Confederates had reached Hooker’s first line of entrenchments, in the midst of the dense forest. Meanwhile General Lee had come up with the remainder of the army, and a sharp fight had taken place in front of Hooker’s right wing. Night put an end to the contest, when, weary and worn, both armies lay down to rest upon the battle-field. When Lee and Jackson met that night they were joined by General Stuart, who told them that, though General Hooker had strongly fortified his position upon the east, south, and southwest, upon the north and west he had left it open. Jackson’s quick mind at once planned to attack Hooker in the rear, just as Hooker had planned to attack Lee. To the northwest, there were no earthworks, and if Jackson could surprise the Federals he would be almost sure of victory. Stuart was there with his gallant horsemen to cover this movement, and the forests were so dense that Jackson was sure of leading his men silently to the rear of Hooker. General Lee listened to his arguments, and finally gave consent for his great lieutenant to make the trial. He (General Lee) would remain with two divisions in front to engage Hooker, while Jackson would march around and strike him in the rear. By the aid of his chaplain, Rev. Mr. Lacy, who knew that country well, General Jackson found a road which would lead him to the rear of Hooker’s army. By sunrise he was in the saddle at the head of his column. General Stuart was there to cover his line of march, and his troops, knowing at once that their General was making one of his famous flank movements, went forward at a rapid pace. We are told by Dr. McGuire, who was with Jackson, that on the march they were met by General Fitz. Lee, who told Jackson that he would show him the whole of Hooker’s army if he would go to the top of a hill near by. They went together, and Jackson carefully viewed through his glasses the Federal command. He was so wrapped up in his plans that on his return he forgot to salute or thank Fitz. Lee, but hurried on to the column, where he ordered one of his aides to go forward and tell General Rodes to cross the plank road and go straight on to the turnpike, and another aide to go to the rear of the column and see that it was kept closed up, and all along the line he kept saying, “Press on, press right on.” The fiercest energy seemed to possess him. When he arrived at the plank road he sent this, his last, message to Lee: “The enemy has made a stand at Chancellorsville. I hope as soon as practicable to attack. I trust that an ever kind Providence will bless us with success.” At three P. M., having marched fifteen miles, he had reached the old turnpike, and was exactly on the opposite side of the enemy to that held by General Lee. He had left the Stonewall Brigade, under General Paxton, on the plank road, with orders to block the way to Germanna ford. He found the outposts held by Stuart’s vigilant troopers, who had guarded well his advance. As soon as possible he formed his army in three lines—the division of Rodes in front, that of Colston next, and A. P. Hill’s in the rear. Between five and six P. M. the word was given, and the lines marched forward into the forest. The thickets were so dense that many of the soldiers had the clothes torn from their backs, but on they went, sometimes creeping to get through the thick undergrowth. After a march of two miles they came suddenly upon the right wing of Hooker’s army. The men were scattered about, cooking and eating their suppers, wholly unconscious of the approach of the dreaded Jackson. With a wild yell, the Confederates dashed forward and drove the enemy pell-mell through the forests for three miles. Jackson’s only order was “Press forward,” and onward rushed his devoted men after the terrified fugitives. At eight o’clock the line of Rodes was within a mile of Chancellorsville, still in the forest, when General Jackson ordered the fresh troops of A. P. Hill to advance to the front to relieve those of Rodes, who were worn out with marching and fighting. He knew that Hooker would send forward other troops, so he went to the front himself to get his men in order. As he rode along the line he would say, “Men, get into line! Get into line!” Turning to Colonel Cobb, he sent him to tell General Rodes to take possession of a barricade in front, and then rode away towards the turnpike. But before the broken ranks of Rodes could gain the barricade Hooker sent forward a large body of fresh troops, and the battle was renewed all along the line. It was now ten o’clock, and the pale moon sent her silvery rays down into the heart of the dismal Wilderness, whose echoes awoke to the sound of tramping feet, the rattle of musketry, and the groans of the dying. Through moonlight and shadow, with these sounds ringing in his ears, Jackson rode forward to his death. After riding up the turnpike a short distance, he found the enemy advancing. Turning, he rode back rapidly towards his own line. The Southern men lying hid in the thickets, thinking that Jackson and his staff were a squad of Northern cavalry, opened a rapid fire upon them. So deadly was their aim that nearly every horse in the party was killed. Two officers were killed, others hurt, and General Jackson himself was wounded three times. His left arm was broken just below the shoulder joint, and was also wounded lower down. A third ball had entered the palm of his right hand and broken two bones. His left hand, so cruelly hurt, dropped by his side, and his horse, no longer controlled by the reins, ran back towards the enemy. As the horse galloped between two trees, he passed beneath a low bough, which struck his rider in the face, tore off his cap, and threw him violently back in the saddle. He did not fall, however, but grasped the reins with his bleeding right hand, and turned him back into the road. There, the General found the greatest confusion. Horses, mad with pain and fright, were running in every direction, and in the road lay the wounded and dying. Where General Jackson fell. Captain Wilbourne, one of Jackson’s aides, now seized the reins and stopped his horse. Seeing that the General was badly hurt, he lifted him from the saddle, almost fainting from the loss of blood. He was then laid down by the side of the road, his head resting upon Captain Wilbourne’s breast, while a messenger went to summon Dr. McGuire, his chief surgeon. Soon General Hill came up, and, pulling off the General’s gauntlets, found that his left arm was broken. As the enemy were not far off, his arm was quickly bandaged with a handkerchief, and he attempted to walk. But after they had gone a few steps a litter was brought, and the General was placed upon it. The litter was hardly in motion when the fire from the guns of the enemy became terrible. Many men were struck down by it, among whom were General Hill and one of the bearers of the litter. The litter was placed upon the ground, and the officers lay down by it to escape death. After awhile the fire changed, and Jackson rose to his feet and walked slowly on, leaning upon two members of his staff. General Pender, coming up, saw by the moonlight that General Jackson was badly hurt. “Ah! General,” said he, “I am sorry to see that you have been wounded. The lines here are so much broken that I fear we will have to fall back.” General Pender. Though almost fainting, Jackson raised his head, and said: “You must hold your ground, General Pender! You must hold your ground!” This was the last order of Jackson on the field. The General, being very faint, was again placed on the litter, and the whole party moved through the forest towards the hospital at Wilderness Run. As they were going slowly through the undergrowth, one of the men caught his foot in a grapevine and fell, letting the litter fall to the ground. General Jackson’s last order on the field: “You must hold your ground, General Pender! You must hold your ground!” Jackson fell upon his wounded shoulder, and for the first time groaned most piteously. With great difficulty they made their way until they came to a place in the road where an ambulance was waiting. The General was placed in it, and was soon met by his surgeon, Dr. McGuire, who, having sprung into the ambulance, found the General almost pulseless. Some spirits was given him, which revived him, and ere long he was laid tenderly in a camp bed at the hospital. Here he fell into a deep sleep. About midnight he was awakened, and told by Dr. McGuire that it was thought best to amputate his arm. “Do what you think best, Doctor,” was the calm reply. The arm was amputated, and the ball taken out of his right hand by the skillful surgeon, and he again fell into a quiet sleep, which lasted until nine o’clock on Sunday morning. General Hill being wounded, General Stuart was placed in command of Jackson’s corps. He now determined to wait until morning to attack the strong works of Hooker, which were again in front of the Confederates. Gen. J. E. B. Stuart. The next morning Stuart thundered on the west, and Lee on the east and south. When the Stonewall Brigade went forward, they shouted, “Charge, and remember Jackson!” “But even as they moved from their position,” says Dr. Dabney, “their General, Paxton, the friend and former adjutant of Jackson, was killed where he stood. But his men rushed forward, and, without other leader than the name which formed their battle-cry, swept everything before them.” At ten A. M., May 3d, Chancellorsville was taken by Lee, and the Federals took refuge behind new barricades nearer to the river. In the meantime, General Sedgwick, who had been left at Fredericksburg by General Hooker, attacked General Early, and captured a part of his command. General Lee, having Hooker in check, sent help to Early, and on Wednesday, came up himself and drove General Sedgwick back across the river, where Hooker had already retreated on Tuesday night, May 5th. General Jubal A. Early. When General Jackson awoke on Sunday morning, May 3d, he asked one of his aids to go to Richmond for his wife. He had sent her to that city when the Federals had begun to move across the river. His mind was clear and he stated that if he had had one more hour of daylight, he would have cut off the enemy from the United States ford, and they would have been obliged either to fight their way out or to surrender. It was now thought best to take him to a more quiet place; so on Monday he was moved to Mr. Chandler’s near Guinea’s Depot, where every care was taken to make him comfortable. He seemed to take much interest in hearing of the battle on Sunday, and said of the Stonewall Brigade, “They are a noble body of men. The men who live through this war will be proud to say, ‘I was one of the Stonewall Brigade.’” He then went on to say that the name of Stonewall belonged to the men of the Brigade alone, as they had earned it by their steadfast conduct at First Manassas. He spoke also of General Rodes, and said that on account of gallant conduct, he deserved to be advanced to the rank of major-general. The death of General Paxton gave him great distress, but he grew calmer when told of the glorious exploits of his old brigade. General R. E. Rodes. He was much pleased at this noble letter from General Lee:
His mind seemed ever dwelling on religious subjects, and he was entirely submissive to the will of God. On Wednesday, his wounds were doing so well that it was thought possible to take him by railroad to Richmond. On that night, however, while Dr. McGuire was absent from him for awhile, he was taken with a severe pain in his side, which was in fact due to pneumonia, which had now set in. From that time he grew weaker, and at last it was seen that he could live only a few hours. Mrs. Jackson arrived on Thursday, and to her he said, “I know you would gladly give your life for me, but I am perfectly resigned.” When his weeping wife at last told him that death was near, he whispered, “Very good, very good, it is all right.” He then sent messages to many friends, and desired to be buried in Lexington, in the Valley of Virginia. Julia Jackson at the age of four years. His little girl was now brought in to receive his last farewell. Upon seeing her, his face lit up with a bright smile, and he murmured, “Little darling!” He tried to caress her with his poor maimed hand—she smiling in her delight at seeing him again. Thus, she remained by his side upon the bed until it was seen that he was growing very weak. Then his mind began to wander, and as if again upon the battle-field, he cried out: “Order A. P. Hill to prepare for action!” “Pass the infantry to the front!” “Tell Major Hawks to send forward provisions for the men!” Then his vision changed, and he murmured, “Let us cross over the river, and rest under the shade of the trees.” “The moment had indeed come,” says Cooke, “when the great leader was to pass over the dark river which separates two worlds, and rest under the shade of the Tree of Life. From this time, he continued to sink, and at fifteen minutes past three in the afternoon, on Sunday, the 10th of May, he peacefully expired.”
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