e little procession moved toward Dowdall's Tavern. A shot pierced the
arm of one of the bearers, loosening his hold of the litter. It tilted.
The general fell heavily to the ground, injuring afresh the wounded
limb, striking and bruising his side. They raised him, pale, now, and
silent, and at last they struggled through the wood to a little
clearing, where they found an ambulance. Now, too, came the doctor, a
man whom he loved, and knelt beside him. "I hope that you are not badly
hurt, general?"

"Yes, I am, doctor. I am badly hurt. I fear that I am dying."

In the ambulance lay also his chief of artillery, Colonel Crutchfield,
painfully injured. Crutchfield pulled the doctor down to him. "He isn't
badly hurt?"

"Yes. Badly hurt."

Crutchfield groaned. "Oh, my God!" Stonewall Jackson heard and made the
ambulance stop. "You must do something for Colonel Crutchfield, doctor.
Don't let him suffer."

A. P. Hill, riding back to the front, was wounded by a piece of shell.
Boswell, the chief engineer, to whom had been entrusted the guidance
through the night of the advance upon the roads to the fords, was
killed. That was a fatal cannonade from the ridge of Chancellorsville,
fatal and fateful! It continued. The Wilderness chanted a battle chant
indeed to the moon, the moon that was pale and wan as if wearied with
silvering battlefields. Hill, lying in a litter, just back of his
advanced line, dispatched couriers for Stuart. Stuart was far toward
Ely's Ford, riding through the night in plume and fighting jacket. The
straining horses, the recalling order, reached him.

"General Jackson badly wounded! A. P. Hill badly wounded! I in command!
My God, man! all changed like that? _Right about face! Forward! March!_"

There was, that night, no grey assault. But the dawn broke clear and
found the grey lines waiting. The sky was a glory, the Wilderness rolled
in emerald waves, the redbirds sang. Lee and the 2d Corps were yet two
miles apart. Between was Chancellorsville, and all the strong
entrenchments and the great blue guns, and Hooker's courageous men.

Now followed Jeb Stuart's fight. In the dawn, the 2nd Corps, swung from
the right by a master hand, struck full against the Federal centre,
struck full against Chancellorsville. In the clear May morning broke a
thunderstorm of artillery. It raged loudly, peal on peal, crash on
crash! The grey shells struck the Chancellor house. They set it on fire.
It went up in flames. A f