that the project was too hazardous and that Lee was right. The writer has always remembered with interest that on the afternoon of April 30, 1863 (he believes this to have been the date), some circumstance carried him to an elevation overlooking the Fredericksburg plain, and he found himself close upon General Jackson, who standing with folded arms was intensely gazing towards the enemy. An unexpected shell exploding near by caused the unruly animal upon which the writer was seated to prance senselessly backwards and forwards, approaching so near General Jackson as to cause him, with unusual quickness of movement, to jump aside. To the quick glance of the General the writer apologetically lifted his hat, and as his untutored horse regained some composure, moved off. The reflection comes that possibly this trivial circumstance interrupted the great soldier in his calculations, and the consolation remains that possibly a conclusion not to make the perilous attempt, against which General Lee had advised, was hastened.
Little can be added to the account Colonel Henderson gives of the closing scenes of Jackson's career. Chancellorsville was undoubtedly his masterpiece. A generously entertained difference exists as to who was the author of that bold battle, and who designed the audacious flank movement of Jackson's 26,000 men. It was like the conceptions of General Lee, yet so fittingly matched the hobbies of General Jackson that we are content to let the origination of the plan of battle be attributed to either. But it fell as usual to the lot of Jackson, great in hurling a mass upon the flank or rear of the enemy, as he was impetuous in his front attacks, to lead his column by a sinuous course through the dense woods and over a single-track lumber road, across the front and almost completely around and to the rear of Hooker's widely extended right wing. The writer last saw General Jackson about 4 p. m. on the afternoon of May 2, 1863, at the junction of the Brock road with the Orange plank road. The fifteen-mile circuit had been completed. Like the men, he was brown with the dust of the heavily-traveled road. He had been led by General Fitzhugh Lee, commanding the cavalry at that point, to the little elevation, Burton's Hill, and from his concealed position had looked down almost into the eyes of the unsuspecting foe. Seated upon a log, his arms folded, his entire manner
