Licking Valley courier. [volume] (West Liberty, Ky.) 19??-current, 1913-06-19
How Stonewal1 Jackson Died.

distinguished general of the Con
federacy, died fifty years agc
May 10, as the result of wounds
received at the Battle of Chan
cellorsville, May 2, 1863. In the
confusion of the battle and fall
ing dusk he was shot down by
Southern troops. The story is
graphically told by Mary John.
ston in her novel, ''The Long
Roll"
THE moon was coming up. She
silvered the wilderness about
Dowdall,s tavern. She made a
pillow around the group of staff
and field officers gathered beside
the road. Her light glinted on
Stonewall Jackson's sabor and
on the worn braid of the old for
age cap.
The clamor about Chancellors-
vile, where, in hot haste, Hook
er, made dispositions, streamed
east and west, meeting and
blending with, westward, a like
distraction of forming commands,
of battle lines made in the dark
ness among thickets. The moon
was high, but not observed. Be-
hind him Captain Wilbourne of
the Signal corps, two aides and
several couriers, Jackson rode a.
long the plank road.
There was a regiment drawn
across this way through this
the wilderness, on the road and
in the woods, on either hand. In
places in the wilderness the scrub
that fearfully burned the next
day and the next was even now
afre; and gave, though uncer-
tainly and dimly a certain illumi-
nation. By it the regiment was
perceived. 1t seemed composed
of tall and shadowy men.
What troops are these?" ask
ed the general. Lanes North
Carolinians, sir, the Eigh-
teenth." I"
As he passed the regiment
started the cheer. He shook his
head.
Don't men. We want quiet
now."
A few hundred yards from
Charlottesville he checked Lit
tle>Sorrel. The horse stood, fore
feet planted. Horse and rider,
they stood and listened. Hook
er's reserves were up. About
the Chancellor house, on the
Charlottesville ridge, they were
throwing up intrenchments.
They were digging the earth
with bayonets, they were heap
ing it up with their hands.
Turning Littel Sorrel, he rode
back along the plank road toward
his own lines. The light of the
burning brush had sunken. The
cannon smoke floating in the air,
the very thick woods made all
things obscure.
Stonewall Jackson came to-
ward the Carolinians. He rode
quickly past the dark shell of a
house sunken among the pines.
There were with him seven or
eight persons. The horses hoofs
made a trampling on the plank
road. The woods were deep, the
obscurity great. Suddenly out of
the brush rang a shot, an acci-
IDENTIFY discharged rifle, Some
gray soldiers among Lanes tense
ly awaiting ranks spoke from
the core of a fearful dream:
Yankee cavalry!"
"Fire!" called, an officer of the
Eighteenth North Carolina.
The volley, striking diagonally
across the road, emptied several
saddles. Stonewall Jackson the
aides and Wilbome wheeled to
left, dug spur and would have
plunged into the road. "Fire!"
said the Carolinians, dressed to
the left of the road, and fired.
Little Sorrel, maddened, dash
ed into the wood, An oak bough
struck his rider almost bearing
him from the saddle. With his
right hand, from which the blood
was streaming, in which a bullet
was imbeded, he caught the bri-
die, managed to turn the agonized
brute into the road again. There
seemed a wild sound, a confusion
of voices. Someone had stopped
the firing. my God, Men! You
are firing into us!" In the roaC