Where men, guns, horses, and gunpowder are we are bound to see instances of tragic luck. John J. Walthall appears to be just such an instance. How rare was his end? In 1837 a little-read article by S.D. Poisson articulated a distribution pattern for highly unlikely but still occasional events. This application was later used to explain the pattern of deaths-by-horse-kick in the Prussian cavalry in the 1890s, and since that time it has been used to analyze jury decisions, scores in sports, runs on banks, and other phenomena.

John is rare in two ways. In the Civil War, as is the case in nearly all war, most deaths are among those who are unmarried and have no children. Historically, wars have generally been fought by young, single men (older married men have tended to be their commanders and have tended not to be on the front lines). But John was older, about 35, and an enlisted sergeant bound to be at the front lines. He had lived most of his life in Richmond but had moved to Washington County, Texas, just before the war. When the war opened, he joined the 5th Texas—a regiment in the vaunted Texas Brigade. When he enlisted, he left behind Virginia Evelyn Hill Walthall, his Richmond bride, and three children.

The 5th Texas fought in bloody battles all over the Eastern theater, and John would have been a hardened veteran by the time his unit stared across the Bushman farm at Little Round Top on the afternoon of July 2. Walthall helped lead men up the face of Little Round Top against the 44th New York Infantry. At some point, he was shot in the thigh and hip. Though wounded, he managed to make it back to the field hospital on the John Edward Plank farm where he was treated and began trying to recover. He was not well enough to withdraw, and when Lee began the withdrawal on the night of July 4, Walthall was left behind.

What followed next is tantamount to a horse kick. Somehow, on July 5, John Walthall was “accidentally wounded” according to the records. This pushed Walthall to his final end. On July 7, he died and was buried on the Plank farm, where he remained until 1872 when he was removed to Hollywood Cemetery.

What became of those John left behind? Virginia was tough. She managed her family alone for four years. Then in 1867, she married Francis Marion Blythe, a widower and former Texas cavalryman ten years her senior who already had nine children by his first wife. With him Virginia had three more children. She outlived Francis, who died in 1878, by 29 years.