7 Richard E. Wilbourn to Charles Faulkner, May 1863, in Charles J. Faulkner Papers, Virginia Historical Society (VHS).
8 Henry B. McClellan, The Life and Campaigns of Major-General J. E. B. Stuart (Boston, MA, 1885), 234.
9 Augustus C. Hamlin, The Battle of Chancellorsville: The Attack of Stonewall Jackson and his Army Upon the Right Flank of the Army of the Potomac at Chancellorsville, Virginia, on Saturday Afternoon, May 2, 1863 (Bangor, ME, 1896), 51.
10 OR 25, pt. 1, 941.
11 Pennock Huey and Andrew Wells, “The Charge of the Eighth Pennsylvania Cavalry,” in B&L, vol. 3, pt. 1, 186-188.
12 OR 25, pt. 1, 941.
13 J. William Jones, “Stonewall Jackson: Personal Reminiscences and Anecdotes of his Character,” in SHSP (1891), 155; Hotchkiss, Make Me a Map of the Valley, 87; James I. Robertson, General A. P. Hill: The Story of a Confederate Warrior (New York, NY, 1987), 157; Douglas, I Rode with Stonewall, 195; “Unveiling of the Statue of General Ambrose Powell Hill at Richmond, Virginia, May 30, 1892,” in SHSP (1892), vol. 20, 385.
14 R. S. Williams, “Thirteenth Regiment,” in Walter Clark, ed., Histories of the Several Regiments, vol. 1, 667.
15 Norvell Cobb, “Memorandum,” in Dabney-Jackson Collection, box 2, LVA.
16 Richard E. Wilbourn to Robert Dabney, December 12, 1863.
17 Cobb, “Memorandum.”
18 The presence of the road from Hazel Grove opposite the Bullock Road intersection has been ignored by most modern battlefield references. Its existence is confirmed through several primary sources, period battlefield maps, and a 1932 U.S. Geological survey map of the Chancellorsville battlefield. See David Kyle to A. C. Hamlin, November 8, 1894, in A. C. Hamlin Collection (ACHC), Harvard University; James M. Talley to A. C. Hamlin, June 1, 1892, in ACHC, Harvard University; James H. Lane to A. C. Hamlin, August 31, 1892, in ACHC, Harvard University; William H. Palmer, “Another Account of It,” in CV (May 1905); “Topographic Maps of Chancellorsville and Salem Church Battlefields, Spotsylvania County, Virginia,” U.S. Department of the Interior, 1932, LC.
19 James H. Lane to A. C. Hamlin, August 31, 1892; James H. Lane to Marcellus Moorman, April 22, 1898, in Hotchkiss Papers, reel 15, LC.
20 OR 25, pt. 1, 916; James H. Lane to Marcellus Moorman, April 22, 1898. The Van Wert house, also described in various accounts as the Van Wart building, the unfinished church, or the unfinished house, is an important landmark in the story of Jackson’s wounding. The structure did not survive the war and its precise location is unknown. It is believed to have been located at a site opposite the current Chancellorsville Battlefield Visitor’s Center and under the pavement of the eastbound lanes of Route 3. See Harrison, Chancellorsville Battlefield Sites, 89-93.
21 David J. Kyle, manuscript for CV (1895), bound volume 207, Fredericksburg and Spotsylvania National Military Park (FSNMP). An edited version appears as “Jackson’s Guide When Shot,” in CV (September 1896), 308-309.
22 OR 25, pt. 1, 916; James H. Lane to A. C. Hamlin, August 31, 1892; James H. Lane to Marcellus Moorman, April 22, 1898.
23 Taylor to CV, January 13, 1904.
24 OR 25, pt. 1, 916; William H. McLaurin, “Eighteenth Regiment,” in Walter Clark, ed., Histories of the Several Regiments, vol. 2, 37. Since the time of Jackson’s wounding, debate has occurred over whether Jackson reconnoitered down the Plank Road or along the Mountain Road to the north. See Appendix I for a detailed analysis of the controversy.
Chapter Five
My Arm Is Broken
It was close to 9:00 p.m. on May 2, 1863, when Jackson and his escort slowly rode down the Orange Plank Road, beyond the main Confederate line that was forming behind them. Although the night was too dark to distinctly recognize individuals at a distance, the pale light of an almost full moon was enough to silhouette riders along the open road. With the pause in battle, the sounds of cracking muskets and booming artillery had been replaced by the surrounding cry of whippoorwills. “I think there must have been ten thousand,” one officer would later remark.1
Knowing that he had skirmishers out in front, Jackson thought it was safe to continue his ride ahead and scout for a nighttime attack. To his left was Capt. Richard E. Wilbourn, chief signal officer of the Second Corps. “The enemy had been driven from the field entirely,” Wilbourn recalled, “and it was not known certainly whether they were still retreating or had made another stand and were trying to rally their discomforted columns.”
Born in Mississippi, Wilbourn had been wounded in the right arm at the battle of Second Manassas in 1862, and the 24-year-old officer still did not have full strength in the extremity. Traveling in a column of twos behind Jackson and Wilbourn were the rest of the escort: Capt. William F. Randolph, in charge of couriers; Lt. Joseph G. Morrison, Jackson’s brother-in-law and aide-de-camp; Sgt. William E. Cunliffe, signal corps; Pvt. W. T. Wynn, signal corps; Pvt. Joshua O. Johns, courier; Pvt. Lloyd T. Smith, courier; and Pvt. David Kyle, courier.2
As the group made its way ever closer to the Union line, one reluctant staff officer asked, “General, don’t you think this is the wrong place for you?”
“The danger is all over,” Jackson quickly snapped. “The enemy is routed. Go back and tell A. P. Hill to press right on.”3
Hill and his staff were about 50 yards behind Jackson and had slowly started following the corps commander as his group rode forward. Riding with Hill were: Maj. William H. Palmer, assistant adjutant; Capt. Boswell of Jackson’s staff; Capt. Conway R. Howard, chief engineer; Capt. Benjamin W. Leigh, volunteer aide-de-camp; Capt. James F. Forbes, volunteer aide-de-camp; Lt. Murray F. Taylor, aide-de-camp; Sgt. George W. Tucker, chief courier; Pvt. Richard J. Muse, courier; and Pvt. Eugene L. Saunders, courier.4
Jackson continued riding down the Plank Road before coming to a halt at the side of the road just short of the skirmishers and about 100 yards beyond the line of Lane’s 18th North Carolina. He sat motionless on Little Sorrel as he listened to noises emanating from the Union line some 250 yards away. The remote sounds of men chopping trees and digging trenches indicated that the Yankees had stopped running and were now building defenses to oppose a Confederate attack. Other than the distant echoes from the Yankee lines and the singing of the mournful whippoorwills, “All was quiet,” Wilbourn remarked, “[t]he enemy having in the darkness of the night, disappeared entirely from our sight.”5
To the rear and south of Jackson’s position, however, an unfortunate series of events was unfolding that would drastically alter the course of the evening.
The Confederate front line was in a heightened state of alert after General Lane had cautioned his commanders during deployment to keep a close watch, since they were the lead element of the army and a nighttime advance was expected. South of the Plank Road, Lane was just about to give an order for the 7th and 37th North Carolina regiments to advance when an officer from the 7th approached the general and requested a momentary delay. Noises had been heard in the woods on the far right, and the officer thought it prudent to first investigate whether the sounds indicated the enemy was closer than originally believed.
As the two Confederate officers discussed the situation, soldiers from the 7th North Carolina arrived with Union Lt. Col. Levi H. Smith of the 128th Pennsylvania holding a stick tied with a white handkerchief.6
Having been under orders to re-occupy the log earthworks abandoned during the retreat earlier in the day, Smith had unknowingly advanced his men between the skirmishers of the 33rd North Carolina in front and the main Confederate line in formation south of the Plank Road. Finding the barricade already occupied, he was unable to tell in the dark whether the soldiers were friend or foe, so he approached the line with a flag of truce asking who was present. Promptly captured by the Confederates, he was taken up the line to meet Lane.
An indignant Smith demanded to be set free, claiming that his intention had been not to surrender but merely to ascertain who controlled the field. However, in Lane’s opinion, the action was an illegi
timate use of the white flag, so he refused to release Smith unless he received orders to the contrary from General Hill. Lane also sent Lt. James W. Emack and four men to reconnoiter the woods ahead in search of more Federal troops.
Emack and his men had proceeded only a short distance when they stumbled upon 200 soldiers of Smith’s 128th Pennsylvania infantry who were awaiting the return of their commander. Drawing his sword, the quick-thinking lieutenant announced, “Men, Jackson has surrounded you; down with your guns, else we will shoot the last one of you!” Confused and startled, the entire regiment immediately surrendered, and Emack marched the group back to the log works. Smith was still attempting to “argufy” the circumstances of his capture with Lane when Emack arrived with the commander’s surrendered regiment.7
Farther ahead in the dark woods, another bewildered Union officer was approaching the far right of the 33rd North Carolina skirmishers. Brigadier General Joseph F. Knipe, commanding the Federal brigade to which the 128th Pennsylvania was attached, rode in front of the Confederate skirmish line and called out for General Williams, his divisional commander. A sergeant of the Rebel picket, hearing the brigadier shout for a Union general, assumed he was an enemy officer and fired a single shot in Knipe’s direction. This lone firing in the direction of the Federal line triggered a return volley from Union pickets a short distance ahead in the woods. The Confederate skirmishers fired back, initiating a cascade of volleys from both sides.8
With the opposing pickets south of the Plank Road trading shots, the jittery 7th and 37th North Carolina regiments, believing more enemy forces were to their front, blindly unleashed their own volley into the woods. Soldiers of the 33rd North Carolina had to dive to the ground for cover as they suddenly found themselves in a cross-fire from front and back. Union pickets were quickly placed in a similar predicament as the main Federal line behind them opened up in response to the Confederate fire. Like a chain reaction, the shooting began rolling up the main Confederate line from right to left, and artillery captain Marcellus Moorman found himself under fire.
Moorman and his cannon were still in their advanced position in the middle of the Plank Road as soldiers of the 37th North Carolina to the right of the road sent a volley in their direction. His startled artillery horses turned and ran for the rear as Moorman rushed toward the line, shouting, “What are you firing at? Are you trying to kill all my men in front of you? There are no Yankees here!” The firing ceased for a moment, and Moorman returned to his guns. There he noticed Jackson and his escort riding back from the front and into the woods north of the road.9
Jackson and his staff had been sitting silently on their horses listening to the activity in the Union lines when the solitary gunshot at Knipe prompted the Union pickets to fire and subsequently brought responses from the Confederate skirmish line. Once the opposing pickets began exchanging volleys, Jackson’s group turned around and rode west on the Plank Road back toward the Confederate lines. The subsequent fire from the 37th North Carolina that had threatened Moorman also whizzed past Jackson and his escort as they were returning along the same path. Using the woods for cover, Jackson’s group left the open road and entered the brush to their right while continuing their westward ride.
The picket firing had also prompted Gen. A. P. Hill and his staff to turn around; now, instead of trailing Jackson, they were the lead group as the two parties rode back to the line and through the woods on the northern edge of the Plank Road. Just ahead of them, concealed in the thick brush, were the vigilant and anxious men of Lane’s 18th North Carolina Regiment. With each group unaware of the other’s location, the fog of war was about to change the course of Civil War history.
* * *
With the right end of its line resting on the edge of the Plank Road, the 18th North Carolina stretched north into the tangled thicket of the Wilderness. Many soldiers in the Confederate unit were still using the older, smoothbore musket that fired a .69 caliber round ball with an effective range of about 100 yards. The men of the regiment had heard the fighting erupt south of the road and were anticipating it would reach them. “We were never more on the alert and wide awake than that night,” William H. McLaurin of the 18th wrote.10
Battle flag carried by the 18th North Carolina Regiment at Chancellorsville. The flag was captured by Union forces on May 3, 1863.
Courtesy North Carolina Museum of History
* * *
It was around 9:30 p.m. when the stillness surrounding them was suddenly disturbed by the sounds of approaching horses. Hill and Jackson, still leading separate groups, were drawing near the line of battle. To the anxious men of the 18th, the clatter of nearly 20 riders coming through the woods from the front had all the markings of an assault. As Hill’s group came within 20 yards of the regiment, the sight of the silhouetted horsemen prompted someone to shout, “Yankee cavalry!” Instinctively, the entire line unleashed a volley into the moonlit forest.11
The sudden crack and blaze of musketry wreaked havoc among the riders ahead in the woods. Horses reared and bolted from the scene as bullets indiscriminately struck both men and animals. A. P. Hill’s staff, the group closest to the firing, “disappeared as if stricken by lightening,” said Benjamin Leigh. Private Saunders was killed instantly and the other courier, Muse, received two gunshots in the face. Captain Forbes was mortally wounded and would die later at a field hospital. Leigh struck his head on the ground after being thrown from his wounded horse. Palmer’s horse was killed from under him and Tucker was captured after his frightened horse ran uncontrollably into the Union lines. Captain Howard’s wounded horse also bolted from the scene and, running “at Gilpin speed,” did not stop until reaching the Chancellor house—where, according to legend, Howard surrendered to General Hooker himself.12
Captain Keith Boswell, riding with Hill’s group, was killed instantly as two musket balls entered his chest, one piercing the sketchbook he carried in his coat pocket. His spirited black stallion was seen galloping riderless toward the enemy with its chain halter rattling loosely from its neck. The horse was later captured by members of the 71st New York, who renamed the animal “Stonewall.” Boswell’s body, lying by the side of the Plank Road, would be found the next day by his tent mate Jed Hotchkiss, who would bury his close friend in a field on a nearby farm, all the while weeping for him “as for a brother.”13
Bullet-pierced sketchbook carried in the breast pocket of J. Keith Boswell at the time of his fatal shooting.
The Museum of the Confederacy, Richmond, Virginia
* * *
Lieutenant Taylor of Hill’s staff found himself pinned to the ground after his horse was killed and then fell on top of him. General A. P. Hill had managed to leap from his horse at the start of the firing and escaped the hail of bullets by lying face down on the ground. When the shooting finally stopped, he jumped up and called out for his staff. Taylor was the only one who answered. As Hill rushed to help extricate the aide from under his horse, he shouted at the 18th North Carolina, “You have shot your friends, you have destroyed my staff!” He was still in the process of assisting Taylor when a courier ran up and informed him that Jackson had been wounded. “Help yourself,” Hill told Taylor, “I must go to General Jackson.”14
The unexpected volley that decimated Hill’s group had also exacted a toll on Jackson’s escort. Thrown from his horse as the animal fell dead from a gunshot, Joseph Morrison crashed into a tree and was momentarily dazed. Coming to his senses, he leaped up and ran toward the line, shouting, “Cease firing! You are firing into our own men!” Major John D. Barry of the 18th North Carolina, believing it a trick, yelled back, “Who gave that order? It’s a lie! Pour it into them, boys!” The shooting killed Sergeant Cunliffe and wounded the courier, Johns. Smith’s horse was killed, while Randolph’s mount was wounded several times. Wilbourn, Wynn, and Kyle, along with their horses, escaped unharmed.
Overall, Jackson’s group fared better in the firing than Hill’s due to its increased distance from the line
and greater shielding by the density of the woods. The Confederate army did, however, suffer the one casualty it could least afford—Stonewall Jackson.15
Moments before the ill-fated cry of “Yankee cavalry,” Jackson had been leading his staff through the woods on a diagonal angle toward the more isolated Mountain Road. Using his left as his bridle hand, Jackson had his right hand extended in order to fend branches off his face as he rode through the tangled brush. He was within 40 yards of the 18th North Carolina when the regiment unleashed its fatal volley.
Two bullets simultaneously passed through his left arm as another .69 caliber ball entered his right palm, the latter fracturing two bones and remaining lodged within the hand. The left arm dropped limply to his side as the usually calm Little Sorrel reared away from the muzzle flash and began bounding through the woods. The horse ran under a large, overhanging pine bough that struck Jackson with such force that it knocked off his hat, lacerated his face, and nearly thrust him backward out of the saddle. Reaching the Mountain Road, Little Sorrel ran east toward the Union lines for approximately 50 yards before Jackson somehow righted himself, gripped the reins with his broken right hand, and pulled back. He managed to turn the horse around and was headed back toward his own lines as help arrived.
Having seen Jackson’s horse dash through the woods, Captain Wilbourn and Private Wynn immediately rode after him, Wilbourn losing his own hat as he passed beneath the same overhanging limb. The two riders caught up with the general as he was returning toward the Confederate line, at a point on the road that was nearly opposite where he had been wounded. With Wynn riding up on Jackson’s right and Wilbourn on the left, they grabbed Little Sorrel’s reins, as the animal was still “almost frantic from fright.” Jackson, meanwhile, had an astonished look on his face as he stared quietly down the road in the direction of his line.
Calamity at Chancellorsville Page 7