Such a plan of operations, however, if ever seriously contemplated

by Lee, was speedily abandoned. He nowhere makes mention of any such

design in his published reports, and he probably spoke of it only in

jest. His real aim in the great movement now about to commence, is

stated with brevity and reserve--then absolutely necessary--but also

with sufficient clearness, in his official report. The position of

the enemy opposite Fredericksburg was, he says, such as to render an

attack upon him injudicious. It was, therefore, desirable to manoeuvre

him out of it--force him to return toward Maryland--and thus free

the country of his forces. A further result was expected from this

movement. The lower Shenandoah Valley was occupied by the enemy under

General Milroy, who, with his headquarters at Winchester, harassed the

whole region, which he ruled with a rod of iron. With the withdrawal

of the Federal army under General Hooker, and before the advance of

the Confederates, General Milroy would also disappear, and the fertile

fields of the Valley be relieved. The whole force of the enemy would

thus, says Lee, "be compelled to leave Virginia, and possibly to draw

to its support troops designed to operate against other parts of the

country." He adds: "In this way it was supposed that the enemy's plan

of campaign for the summer would be broken up, and part of the season

of active operations be consumed in the formation of new combinations

and the preparations that they would require. In addition to these

advantages, it was hoped that other valuable results might be attained

by military success," that is to say, by a battle which Lee intended

to fight when circumstances were favorable. That he expected to fight,

not merely to manoeuvre the enemy from Virginia, is apparent from

another sentence of the report. "It was thought," he says, "that the

corresponding movements on the part of the enemy, to which those

contemplated by us would probably give rise, might _offer a fair

opportunity to strike a blow at the army therein, commanded by General

Hooker_" the word "therein" referring to the region "north of the

Potomac." In the phrase, "other valuable results which might be

attained by military success," the reference is plainly to the

termination of the contest by a treaty of peace, based upon the

independence of the South.

These sentences, taken from the only publication ever made by Lee

on the subject of the Gettysburg campaign, express guardedly, but

distinctly, his designs. He aimed to draw General Hooker north of the

Potomac, clear the Valley, induce the enemy to send troops in other

quarters to the assistance of the main Federal army, and, when the

moment came, attack General Hooker, defeat him if possible, and thus

end the war. That a decisive defeat of the Federal forces at that time

in Maryland or Pennsylvania, would have virtually put an end to the

contest, there seems good reason to believe. Following the Southern

victories of Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, a third bloody

disaster would, in all human probability, have broken the resolution

of the Federal authorities. With Lee thundering at the gates of

Washington or Philadelphia, and with the peace party encouraged to

loud and importunate protest, it is not probable that the war would

have continued. Intelligent persons in the North are said to have so

declared, since the war, and the declaration seems based upon good

sense.

Before passing from this necessary preface to the narrative of events,

it is proper to add that, in the contemplated battle with General

Hooker, when he had drawn him north of the Potomac, Lee did not intend

to assume a _tactical offensive_, but to force the Federal commander,

if possible, to make the attack. [Footnote: "It had not been intended

to fight a general battle at such a distance from our base, unless

attacked by the enemy."--_Lee's Report_] From this resolution he was

afterward induced by circumstances to depart, and the result is known.

What is above written will convey to the reader a clear conception of

Lee's views and intentions in undertaking his last great offensive

campaign; and we now proceed to the narrative of the movements of the

two armies, and the battle of Gettysburg.

XI.

THE CAVALRY-FIGHT AT FLEETWOOD.

Lee began his movement northward on the 3d day of June, just one month

after the battle of Chancellorsville. From this moment to the time

when his army was concentrated in the vicinity of Gettysburg, his

operations were rapid and energetic, but with a cautious regard to the

movements of the enemy.

Pursuing his design of manoeuvring the Federal army out of Virginia,

without coming to action, Lee first sent forward one division of

Longstreet's corps in the direction of Culpepper, another then

followed, and, on the 4th and 5th of June, Ewell's entire corps was

sent in the same direction--A.P. Hill remaining behind on the south

bank of the Rappahannock, near Fredericksburg, to watch the enemy

there, and bar the road to Richmond. These movements became speedily

known to General Hooker, whose army lay north of the river near that

point, and on the 5th he laid a pontoon just below Fredericksburg,

and crossed about a corps to the south bank, opposite Hill. This

threatening demonstration, however, was not suffered by Lee to arrest

his own movements. Seeing that the presence of the enemy there was

"intended for the purpose of observation rather than attack," and only

aimed to check his operations, he continued the withdrawal of his

troops, by way of Culpepper, in the direction of the Shenandoah

Valley.

A brilliant pageant, succeeded by a dramatic and stirring incident,

was now to prelude the march of Lee into the enemy's territory. On

the 8th of June, the day of the arrival of Lee's head of column in

Culpepper, a review of Stuart's cavalry took place in a field east of

the court-house. The review was a picturesque affair. General Lee was

present, sitting his horse, motionless, on a little knoll--the erect

figure half concealed by the short cavalry-cape falling from his

shoulders, and the grave face overshadowed by the broad gray

hat--while above him, from a lofty pole, waved the folds of a large

Confederate flag. The long column of about eight thousand cavalry was

first drawn up in line, and afterward passed in front of Lee at a

gallop--Stuart and his staff-officers leading the charge with sabres

at tierce point, a species of military display highly attractive to

the gallant and joyous young commander. The men then charged in mimic

battle the guns of the "Stuart Horse-Artillery," which were posted

upon an adjoining hill; and, as the column of cavalry approached,

the artillerists received them with a thunderous discharge of blank

ammunition, which rolled like the roar of actual battle among the

surrounding hills. This sham-fight was kept up for some time, and no

doubt puzzled the enemy on the opposite shore of the Rappahannock. On

the next morning--either in consequence of a design formed before the

review, or to ascertain what this discharge of artillery meant--two

divisions of Federal cavalry, supported by two brigades of "picked

infantry," were sent across the river at Kelly's and Beverley's Fords,

east of the court-house, to beat up the quarters of Stuart and find

what was going on in the Southern camps.

The most extensive cavalry-fight, probably, of the whole war,

followed. One of Stuart's brigades, near Beverley's Ford, was nearly

surprised and resolutely attacked at daylight by Buford's division,

which succeeded in forcing back the brigade a short distance toward

the high range called Fleetwood Hill, in the rear. From this eminence,

where his headquarters were established, Stuart went to the front at a

swift gallop, opened a determined fire of artillery and sharp-shooters

upon the advancing enemy, and sent Hampton's division to attack them

on their left. Meanwhile, however, the enemy were executing a rapid

and dangerous movement against Stuart's, rear. General Gregg,

commanding the second Federal cavalry division, crossed at Kelly's

Ford below, passed the force left in that quarter, and came in

directly on Stuart's rear, behind Fleetwood Hill. In the midst of the

hard fight in front, Stuart was called now to defend his rear. He

hastened to do so by falling back and meeting the enemy now charging

the hill. The attack was repulsed, and the enemy's artillery charged

in turn by the Southerners. This was captured and recaptured two or

three times, but at last remained in the hands of Stuart.

General Gregg now swung round his right, and prepared to advance

along the eastern slope of the hill. Stuart had, however, posted his

artillery there, and, as the Federal line began to move, arrested

it with a sudden and destructive fire of shell. At the same time a

portion of Hampton's division, under the brave Georgian, General

P.M.B. Young, was ordered to charge the enemy. The assault was

promptly made with the sabre, unaided by carbine or pistol fire, and

Young cut down or routed the force in front of him, which dispersed

in disorder toward the river. The dangerous assault on the rear of

Fleetwood Hill was thus repulsed, and the advance of the enemy on the

left, near the river, met with the same ill success. General W.H.F.

Lee, son of the commanding general, gallantly charged them in that

quarter, and drove them back to the Rappahannock, receiving a severe

wound, which long confined him to his bed. Hampton had followed the

retreating enemy on the right, under the fire of Stuart's guns from

Fleetwood Hill; and by nightfall the whole force had recrossed the

Rappahannock, leaving several hundred dead and wounded upon the field.

[Footnote: The Southern loss was also considerable. Colonel Williams

was killed, Generals Lee and Butler severely wounded--the latter

losing his foot--and General Stuart's staff had been peculiarly

unfortunate. Of the small group of officers, Captain Farley was

killed, Captain White wounded, and Lieutenant Goldsborough captured.

The Federal force sustained a great loss in the death of the gallant

Colonel Davis, of the Eighth New-York Cavalry, and other officers.]

This reconnoissance in force--the Federal numbers probably amounting

to fifteen thousand--had no other result than the discovery of the

fact that Lee had infantry in Culpepper. Finding that the event of the

fight was critical, General Lee had moved a body of infantry in the

direction of the field of action, and the gleam of the bayonets was

seen by the enemy. The infantry was not, however, engaged on either

side, unless the Federal infantry participated in the initial skirmish

near Beverley's Ford, and General Lee's numbers and position were not

discovered.

We have dwelt with some detail upon this cavalry combat, which was an

animated affair, the hand-to-hand encounter of nearly twenty thousand

horsemen throughout a whole day. General Stuart was censured at the

time for allowing himself to be "surprised," and a ball at Culpepper

Court-House, at which some of his officers were present several days

before, was pointed to as the origin of this surprise. The charge was

wholly unjust, Stuart not having attended the ball. Nor was there any

truth in the further statement that "his headquarters were captured"

in consequence of his negligence. His tents on Fleetwood Hill were all

sent to the rear soon after daylight; nothing whatever was found there

but a section of the horse-artillery, who fought the charging cavalry

with sabres and sponge-staffs over the guns; that Fleetwood Hill

was at one time in the hands of the enemy, was due not to Stuart's

negligence, but to the numbers and excellent soldiership of General

Gregg, who made the flank and rear attack while Stuart was breasting

that in front.

These detached statements, which may seem unduly minute, are made in

justice to a brave soldier, who can no longer defend himself.

XII.

THE MARCH TO GETTYSBURG.

This attempt of the enemy to penetrate his designs had not induced

General Lee to interrupt the movement of his infantry toward the

Shenandoah Valley. The Federal corps sent across the Rappahannock at

Fredericksburg, still remained facing General Hill; and, two days

after the Fleetwood fight. General Hooker moved up the river with his

main body, advancing the Third Corps to a point near Beverley's Ford.

But these movements were disregarded by Lee. On the same day Ewell's

corps moved rapidly toward Chester Gap, passed through that defile in

the mountain, pushed on by way of Front Royal, and reached Winchester

on the evening of the 13th, having in three days marched seventy

miles.

The position of the Southern army now exposed it to very serious

danger, and at first sight seemed to indicate a deficiency of

soldiership in the general commanding it. In face of an enemy whose

force was at least equal to his own,[Footnote: General Hooker stated

his "effective" at this time to have been diminished to eighty

thousand infantry.] Lee had extended his line until it stretched over

a distance of about one hundred miles. When Ewell came in sight of

Winchester, Hill was still opposite Fredericksburg, and Longstreet

half-way between the two in Culpepper. Between the middle and rear

corps was interposed the Rapidan River, and between the middle and

advanced corps the Blue Ridge Mountains. General Hooker's army was on

the north bank of the Rappahannock, well in hand, and comparatively

massed, and the situation of Lee's army seemed excellent for the

success of a sudden blow at it.

It seems that the propriety of attacking the Southern army while

thus _in transitu_, suggested itself both to General Hooker and to

President Lincoln, but they differed as to the point and object of the

attack. In anticipation of Lee's movement, General Hooker had written

to the President, probably suggesting a counter-movement across the

Rappahannock, somewhere near Fredericksburg, to threaten Richmond, and

thus check Lee's advance. This, however. President Lincoln refused to

sanction.

"In case you find Lee coming to the north of the Rappahannock,"

President Lincoln wrote to General Hooker, "I would by no means cross

to the south of it. I would not take any risk of being entangled upon

the river, _like an ox jumped half over a fence, and liable to be torn

by dogs, front and rear, without a fair chance to gore one way or kick

the other_"

Five days afterward the President wrote: "I think Lee's army, and not

Richmond, is your true objective point. If he comes toward the Upper

Potomac, fight him when opportunity offers. If he stays where he is,

_fret him and fret him_."

When intelligence now reached Washington that the head of Lee's column

was approaching the Upper Potomac, while the rear was south of the

Rappahannock, the President wrote to General Hooker: "_If the head of

Lee's army is at Martinsburg, and the tail of it on the plank road_

between Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, the _animal must be very

slim somewhere--could you not break him?_"

General Hooker did not seem to be able to determine upon a decisive

course of action, in spite of the tempting opening presented to him by

Lee. It would seem that nothing could have been plainer than the good

policy of an attack upon Hill at Fredericksburg, which would certainly

have checked Lee's movement by recalling Longstreet from Culpepper,

and Ewell from the Valley. But this bold operation did not appear to

commend itself to the Federal authorities. Instead of reënforcing the

corps sent across at Fredericksburg and attacking Hill, General Hooker

withdrew the corps, on the 13th, to the north bank of the river, got

his forces together, and began to fall back toward Manassas, and even

remained in ignorance, it seems, of all connected with his adversary's

movements. Even as late as the 17th of June, his chief-of-staff,

General Butterfield, wrote to one of his officers; "Try and hunt up

somebody from Pennsylvania who knows something, and has a cool enough

head to judge what is the actual state of affairs there with regard to

the enemy. _My impression is, that Lee's movement on the Upper Potomac

is a cover for a cavalry-raid on the south side of the river.... We

cannot go boggling around until we know what we are going after._"

Such was the first result of Lee's daring movement to transfer

military operations to the region north of the Potomac. A Northern

historian has discerned in his plan of campaign an amount of boldness

which "seemed to imply a great contempt for his opponent." This

is perhaps a somewhat exaggerated statement of the case. Without

"boldness" a commander is but half a soldier, and it may be declared

that a certain amount of that quality is absolutely essential to

successful military operations. But the question is, Did Lee expose

himself, by these movements of his army, to probable disaster, if his

adversary--equal to the occasion--struck at his flank? A failure of

the campaign of invasion would probably have resulted from such an

attack either upon Hill at Fredericksburg, or upon Longstreet in

Culpepper, inasmuch as Ewell's column, in that event, must have fallen

back. But a _defeat_ of the combined forces of Hill and Longstreet,

who were within supporting distance of each other, was not an event

which General Hooker could count upon with any degree of certainty.

The two corps numbered nearly fifty thousand men--that is to say,

two-thirds of the Southern army; General Hooker's whole force was

but about eighty thousand; and it was not probable that the

eighty thousand would be able to rout the fifty thousand, when at

Chancellorsville less than this last number of Southerners had

defeated one hundred and twenty thousand.

There seems little reason to doubt that General Lee took this view of

the subject, and relied on Hill and Longstreet to unite and repulse

any attack upon them, while Ewell's great "raiding column" drove

forward into the heart of the enemy's territory. That the movement was

bold, there can certainly be no question; that it was a reckless and

hazardous operation, depending for its success, in Lee's eyes, solely

on the supposed inefficiency of General Hooker, does not appear.

These comments delay the narrative, but the subject is fruitful in

suggestion. It may be pardoned a Southern writer if he lingers over

this last great offensive movement of the Southern army. The last, it

was also one of the greatest and most brilliant. The war, therefore,

was to enter upon its second stage, in which the South was to simply

maintain the defensive. But Lee was terminating the first stage of

the contest by one of those great campaigns which project events and

personages in bold relief from the broad canvas, and illumine the

pages of history.

Events were now in rapid progress. Ewell's column--the sharp head of

the Southern spear--reached Winchester on the 13th of June, and

Rodes, who had been detached at Front Royal to drive the enemy from

Berryville, reached the last-named village on the same day when the

force there retreated to Winchester. On the next morning Early's

division attacked the forces of Milroy at Winchester, stormed and

captured their "Star Fort," on a hill near the place, and so complete

was the rout of the enemy that their commander, General Milroy, had

scarcely time to escape, with a handful of his men, in the direction

of the Potomac.

For this disaster the unfortunate officer was harshly criticised by

General Hooker, who wrote to his Government, "In my opinion, Milroy's

men will fight better _under a soldier_."

After thus clearing the country around Winchester, Ewell advanced

rapidly on Martinsburg, where he took a number of prisoners and some

artillery. The captures in two days had been more than four thousand

prisoners and twenty-nine cannon, with four hundred horses and a large

amount of stores. Ewell continued then to advance, and, entering

Maryland, sent a portion of his cavalry, under General Imboden,

westward, to destroy the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, and another

body, under General Jenkins, in advance, toward Chambersburg.

Meanwhile, the rest of the army was moving to join him. Hill, finding

that the enemy had disappeared from his front near Fredericksburg,

hastened to march from that vicinity, and was sent forward by Lee, on

the track of Ewell, passing in rear of Longstreet, who had remained

in Culpepper. The latter was now directed by Lee to move along

the eastern side of the Blue Ridge, and, by occupying Ashby's and

Snicker's Gaps, protect the flank of the column in the Valley from

attack--a work in which Stuart's cavalry, thrown out toward the enemy,

assisted.

Such was the posture of affairs when General Hooker's chief-of-staff

became so much puzzled, and described the Federal army as "boggling

around," and not knowing "what they were going after." Lee's whole

movement, it appears, was regarded as a feint to "cover a cavalry-raid

on the south side of the river"--a strange conclusion, it would seem,

in reference to a movement of such magnitude. It now became absolutely

necessary that Lee's designs should be unmasked, if possible; and

to effect this object Stuart's cavalry force, covering the southern

flank, east of the Blue Ridge, must be driven back. This was

undertaken in a deliberate manner. Three corps of cavalry, with a

division of infantry and a full supply of artillery, were sent forward

from the vicinity of Manassas, to drive Stuart in on all the roads

leading to the mountain. A fierce struggle followed, in which Stuart,

who knew the importance of his position, fought the great force

opposed to him from every hill and knoll. But he was forced back

steadily, in spite of a determined resistance, and at Upperville a

hand-to-hand sabre-fight wound up the movement, in which the Federal

cavalry was checked, when Stuart fell back toward Paris, crowned the

mountain-side with his cannon, and awaited a final attack. This was

not, however, made. Night approaching, the Federal force fell back

toward Manassas, and on the next morning Stuart followed them, on the

same road over which he had so rapidly retreated, beyond Middleburg.

Lee paid little attention to these operations on his flank east of

the mountains, but proceeded steadily, in personal command of his

infantry, in the direction of the Cumberland Valley. Ewell was moving

rapidly toward Harrisburg, with orders to "take" that place "if he

deemed his force adequate,"[1] General Jenkins, commanding cavalry,

preceding the advance of his infantry. He had thus pierced the enemy's

territory, and it was necessary promptly to support him. Hill

and Longstreet were accordingly directed to pass the Potomac at

Shepherdstown and Williamsport. The columns united at Hagerstown, and

on the 27th of June entered Chambersburg.

[Footnote 1: This statement of Lee's orders is derived by the writer

from Lieutenant-General Ewell.]

General Hooker had followed, crossing the Potomac, opposite Leesburg,

at about the moment when Lee's rear was passing from Maryland into

Pennsylvania. The direction of the Federal march was toward Frederick,

from which point General Hooker could move in either one of two

directions--either across the mountain toward Boonsboro, which would

throw him upon Lee's communications, or northward to Westminster, or

Gettysburg, which would lead to an open collision with the invading

army in a pitched battle.

At this juncture of affairs, just as the Federal army was

concentrating near Frederick, General Hooker, at his own request, was

relieved from command. The occasion of this unexpected event seems to

have been a difference of opinion between himself and General

Halleck, the Federal general-in-chief, on the question whether the

fortifications at Harper's Ferry should or should not be abandoned.

The point at issue would appear to have been unimportant, but ill

feeling seems to have arisen: General Hooker resented the action

of the authorities, and requested to be relieved; his request was

complied with, and his place was filled by Major-General George G.

Meade.

[Illustration: Map--Sketch of the Country Around GETTYSBURG.]

General Meade, an officer of excellent soldiership, and enjoying the

repute of modesty and dignity, assumed command of the Federal army,

and proceeded rapidly in pursuit of Lee. The design of moving directly

across the South Mountain on Lee's communications, if ever entertained

by him, was abandoned. The outcry from Pennsylvania drew him perforce.

Ewell, with one division, had penetrated to Carlisle; and Early, with

another division, was at York; everywhere the horses, cattle, and

supplies of the country, had been seized upon for the use of the

troops; and General Meade was loudly called upon to go to the

assistance of the people thus exposed to the terrible rebels. His

movements were rapid. Assuming command on June 28th, he began to

move on the 29th, and on the 30th was approaching the town of

Gettysburg.[1]

[Footnote 1: The movements of the Federal commander were probably

hastened by the capture, about this time at Hagerstown, of a dispatch

from President Davis to General Lee. Lee, it seems, had suggested

that General Beauregard should be sent to make a demonstration in the

direction of Culpepper, and by thus appearing to threaten Washington,

embarrass the movements of the Northern army. To this suggestion the

President is said to have replied that he had no troops to make such

a movement; and General Meade had thus the proof before him that

Washington was in no danger. The Confederacy was thus truly

unfortunate again, as in September, 1862, when a similar incident came

to the relief of General McClellan.]

XIII.

LEE IN PENNSYLVANIA.

Lee, in personal command of the corps of Hill and Longstreet, had

meanwhile moved on steadily in the direction of the Susquehanna, and,

reaching Chambersburg on the 27th of June, "made preparations to

advance upon Harrisburg."

At Chambersburg he issued an order to the troops, which should find a

place in every biography of this great soldier. The course pursued

by many of the Federal commanders in Virginia had been merciless and

atrocious beyond words. General Pope had ravaged the counties north

of the Rappahannock, especially the county of Culpepper, in a manner

which reduced that smiling region wellnigh to a waste; General Milroy,

with his headquarters at Winchester, had so cruelly oppressed the

people of the surrounding country as to make them execrate the very

mention of his name; and the excesses committed by the troops of these

officers, with the knowledge and permission of their commanders, had

been such, said a foreign writer, as to "cast mankind two centuries

back toward barbarism."

Now, the tables were turned, and the world looked for a sudden and

merciless retaliation on the part of the Southerners. Lee was in

Pennsylvania, at the head of an army thirsting to revenge the

accumulated wrongs against their helpless families. At a word from

him the fertile territory of the North would be made to feel the iron

pressure of military rule, proceeding on the theory that retaliation

is a just principle to adopt toward an enemy. Fire, slaughter, and

outrage, would have burst upon Pennsylvania, and the black flag, which

had been virtually raised by Generals Pope and Milroy, would have

flaunted now in the air at the head of the Southern army.

Instead of permitting this disgraceful oppression of non-combatants,

Lee issued, at Chambersburg, the following general order to his

troops:

HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA,

CHAMBERSBURG, PA., _June_ 27, 1863.

The commanding general has observed with much satisfaction the conduct

of the troops on the march, and confidently anticipates results

commensurate with the high spirit they have manifested. No troops

could have displayed greater fortitude, or better performed the

arduous marches of the past ten days. Their conduct in other respects

has, with few exceptions, been in keeping with their character as

soldiers, and entitles them to approbation and praise.

There have, however, been instances of forgetfulness, on the part of

some, that they have in keeping the yet unsullied reputation of

the army, and that the duties exacted of us by civilization and

Christianity are not less obligatory in the country of the enemy than

in our own.

The commanding general considers that no greater disgrace could befall

the army, and, through it, our whole people, than the perpetration of

the barbarous outrages on the innocent and defenceless, and the wanton

destruction of private property, that have marked the course of the

enemy in our own country. Such proceedings not only disgrace the

perpetrators, and all connected with them, but are subversive of the

discipline and efficiency of the army, and destructive of the ends of

our present movements. It must be remembered that we make war only

upon armed men, and that we cannot take vengeance for the wrongs our

people have suffered without lowering ourselves in the eyes of all

whose abhorrence has been excited by the atrocities of our enemy,

without offending against Him to whom vengeance belongeth, without

whose favor and support our efforts must all prove in vain.

The commanding general, therefore, earnestly exhorts the troops to

abstain, with most scrupulous care, from unnecessary or wanton injury

to private property; and he enjoins upon all officers to arrest and

bring to summary punishment all who shall in any way offend against

the orders on this subject.

R.E. LEE, _General_.

The noble maxims and truly Christian spirit of this paper will

remain the undying glory of Lee. Under what had been surely a bitter

provocation, he retained the calmness and forbearance of a great soul,

saying to his army: "The duties exacted of us by civilization and

Christianity are not less obligatory in the country of the enemy than

in our own.... No greater disgrace could befall the army, and through

it our whole people, than the perpetration of outrage upon the

innocent and defenceless.... We make war only upon armed men, and

cannot take vengeance for the wrongs our people have suffered without

offending against Him to whom vengeance belongeth, without whose favor

and support our efforts must all prove in vain."

Such were the utterances of Lee, resembling those we might attribute

to the ideal Christian warrior; and, indeed, it was such a spirit that

lay under the plain uniform of the great Virginian. What he ordered

was enforced, and no one was disturbed in his person or property. Of

this statement many proofs could be given. A Pennsylvania farmer said

to a Northern correspondent, in reference to the Southern troops: "I

must say they acted like gentlemen, and, their cause aside, I would

rather have forty thousand rebels quartered on my premises than one

thousand Union troops." From the journal of Colonel Freemantle,

an English officer accompanying the Southern army, we take these

sentences:

"In passing through Greencastle we found all the houses and windows

shut up, the natives in their Sunday clothes, standing at their doors

regarding the troops in a very unfriendly manner. I saw no straggling

into the houses, nor were any of the inhabitants disturbed or annoyed

by the soldiers. Sentries were placed at the doors of many of the

best houses, to prevent any officer or soldier from getting in on any

pretence.... I entered Chambersburg at 6 P.M.... Sentries were placed

at the doors of all the principal houses, and the town was cleared

of all but the military passing through or on duty.... No officer or

soldier under the rank of a general is allowed in Chambersburg without

a special order from General Lee, which he is very chary of giving,

and I hear of officers of rank being refused this pass.... I went into

Chambersburg again, and witnessed the singularly good behavior of the

troops toward the citizens. I heard soldiers saying to one another

that they did not like being in a town in which they were very

naturally detested. To any one who has seen, as I have, the ravages

of the Northern troops in Southern towns, this forbearance seems most

commendable and surprising."

A Northern correspondent said of the course pursued by General

Jenkins, in command of Ewell's cavalry: "By way of giving the devil

his due, it must be said that, although there were over sixty acres

of wheat and eighty acres of corn and oats in the same field, he

protected it most carefully, and picketed his horses so that it could

not be injured. No fences were wantonly destroyed, poultry was not

disturbed, nor did he compliment our blooded cattle so much as to test

the quality of their steak and roast."

Of the feeling of the troops these few words from the letter of an

officer written to one of his family will convey an idea: "I felt

when I first came here that I would like to revenge myself upon these

people for the devastation they have brought upon our own beautiful

home--that home where we could have lived so happily, and that we

loved so much, from which their vandalism has driven you and my

helpless little ones. But, though I had such severe wrongs and

grievances to redress, and such great cause for revenge, yet, when

I got among these people, I could not find it in my heart to molest

them."

Such was the treatment of the people of Pennsylvania by the Southern

troops in obedience to the order of the commander-in-chief. Lee

in person set the example. A Southern journal made the sarcastic

statement that he became irate at the robbing of cherry-trees; and, if

he saw the _top rail_ of a fence lying upon the ground as he rode by,

would dismount and replace it with his own hands.

XIV.

CONCENTRATION AT GETTYSBURG.

This was the position of the great adversaries in the last days of

June. Lee was at Chambersburg, in the Cumberland Valley, about to

follow Ewell, who was approaching Harrisburg. Early had captured York;

and the Federal army was concentrating rapidly on the flank of the

Southern army, toward Gettysburg.

Lee had ordered the movement of Early upon York, with the object of

diverting the attention of the Federal commander from his own rear,

in the Cumberland Valley. The exact movements and position of General

Meade were unknown to him; and this arose in large measure from the

absence of Stuart's cavalry. This unfortunate incident has given rise

to much comment, and Stuart has been harshly criticised for an alleged

disobedience of Lee's plain orders. The question is an embarrassing

one. Lee's statement is as follows: "General Stuart was left to guard

the passes of the mountains" (Ashby's and other gaps in the Blue

Ridge, in Virginia), "and observe the movements of the enemy, whom

he was instructed to harass and impede as much as possible should

he attempt to cross the Potomac. _In that event, General Stuart was

directed to move into Maryland, crossing the Potomac east or west of

the Blue Ridge, as in his judgment should be best, and take position

on the right of our column as it advanced._"

This order was certainly plain up to a certain point. Stuart was

to harass and embarrass the movements of the enemy, in case they

attempted to cross to the north bank of the Potomac. When they did

cross, he also was to pass the river, either east or west of the Blue

Ridge, "as in his judgment should seem best." So far the order was

unmistakable. The river was to be crossed at such point as Stuart

should select, either on the lower waters, or in the Valley. Lee

added, however, that this movement should be made in such a manner as

to enable Stuart to "take position on the right of our column as it

advanced"--the meaning appearing to be that the cavalry should move

_between_ the two armies, in order to guard the Southern flank as it

advanced into the Cumberland Valley. Circumstances arose, however,

which rendered it difficult for Stuart to move on the line thus

indicated with sufficient promptness to render his services valuable.

The enemy crossed at Leesburg while the Southern cavalry was near

Middleburg; and, from the jaded condition of his horses, Stuart feared

that he would be unable, in case he crossed above, to place his column

between the two armies then rapidly advancing. He accordingly took the

bold resolution of passing the Potomac _below_ Leesburg, designing to

shape his course due northward toward Harrisburg, the objective point

of the Southern army. This he did--crossing at Seneca Falls--but on

the march he was delayed by many incidents. Near Rockville he stopped

to capture a large train of Federal wagons; at Westminster and

Hanovertown he was temporarily arrested by combats with the Federal

cavalry; and, ignorant as he was of the concentration of Lee's troops

upon Gettysburg, he advanced rapidly toward Carlisle, where, in the

midst of an attack on that place, he was recalled by Lee.

Such were the circumstances leading to, and the incidents attending,

this movement. The reader must form his own opinion of the amount

of blame to be justly attached to Stuart. He always declared, and

asserted in his report of these occurrences, that he had acted in

exact obedience to his orders; but, on the contrary, as appears from

General Lee's report, those orders were meant to prescribe a different

movement. He had marched in one sense on "the right" of the Southern

column "as it advanced;" but in another sense he had not done so.

Victory at Gettysburg would have silenced all criticism of this

difference of construction; but, unfortunately, the event was

different, and the strictures directed at Stuart were natural. The

absence of the cavalry unquestionably embarrassed Lee greatly; but, in

his report, he is moderate and guarded, as usual, in his expressions.

"The absence of cavalry," he says, "rendered it impossible to obtain

accurate information" of General Meade's movements; and "the march

toward Gettysburg was conducted more slowly than it would have been

had the movements of the Federal army been known."

[Illustration: Map--Battle of GETTYSBURG]

To return now to the movements of Lee's infantry, after the arrival of

the main body at Chambersburg. Lee was about to continue his advance

in the direction of Harrisburg, when, on the night of the 29th, his

scouts brought him intelligence that the Federal army was rapidly

advancing, and the head of the column was near the South Mountain. A

glance at the map will indicate the importance of this intelligence.

General Meade would be able, without difficulty, in case the Southern

army continued its march northward, to cross the South-Mountain range,

and place himself directly in Lee's rear, in the Cumberland Valley.

Then the Southern forces would be completely intercepted--General

Meade would be master of the situation--and Lee must retreat east of

the mountain or cut his way through the Federal army.

A battle was thus clearly about to be forced upon the Southern

commander, and it only remained for him to so manoeuvre his army as to

secure a position in which he could receive the enemy's attack with

advantage. Lee accordingly put his column in motion across the

mountain toward Gettysburg, and, sending couriers to Ewell and Early

to return from Harrisburg and York toward the same point, made his

preparations to take position and fight.

On the morning of the 1st day of July, this was then the condition of

affairs. General Meade was advancing with rapidity upon the town

of Gettysburg, and Lee was crossing the South Mountain, opposite

Chambersburg, to meet him.

When the heads of the two columns came together in the vicinity of

Gettysburg, the thunders of battle began.

XV.

THE FIRST DAY'S FIGHT AT GETTYSBURG.

The sanguinary struggle which now ensued between the Army of Northern

Virginia and the Army of the Potomac continued for three days, and the

character of these battles, together with their decisive results, have

communicated to the events an extraordinary interest. Every fact has

thus been preserved, and the incidents of the great combat, down to

the most minute details, have been placed upon record. The subject is,

indeed, almost embarrassed by the amount of information collected and

published; and the chief difficulty for a writer, at this late day, is

to select from the mass such salient events as indicate clearly the

character of the conflict.

This difficulty the present writer has it in his power to evade,

in great measure, by confining himself mainly to the designs and

operations of General Lee. These were plain and simple. He had been

forced to relinquish his march toward the Susquehanna by the dangerous

position of General Meade so near his line of retreat; this rendered

a battle unavoidable; and Lee was now moving to accept battle,

designing, if possible, to secure such a position as would give him

the advantage in the contest. Before he succeeded in effecting this

object, battle was forced upon him--not by General Meade, but by

simple stress of circumstances. The Federal commander had formed the

same intention as that of his adversary--to accept, and not deliver,

battle--and did not propose to fight near Gettysburg. He was, rather,

looking backward to a strong position in the direction of Westminster,

when suddenly the head of his column became engaged near Gettysburg,

and this determined every thing.

A few words are necessary to convey to the reader some idea of the

character of the ground. Gettysburg is a town, nestling down in a

valley, with so many roads centring in the place that, if a circle

were drawn around it to represent the circumference of a wheel, the

roads would resemble the spokes. A short distance south of the town is

a ridge of considerable height, which runs north and south, bending

eastward in the vicinity of Gettysburg, and describing a curve

resembling a hook. From a graveyard on this high ground it is called

Cemetery Hill, or Ridge. Opposite this ridge, looking westward, is a

second and lower range called Seminary Ridge. This extends also north

and south, passing west of Gettysburg. Still west of Seminary Ridge

are other still lower ranges, between which flows a small stream

called Willoughby Run; and beyond these, distant about ten miles, rise

the blue heights of the South Mountain.

Across the South Mountain, by way of the village of Cashtown, Lee, on

the morning of the 1st of July, was moving steadily toward Gettysburg,

when Hill, holding the front, suddenly encountered the head of the

enemy's column in the vicinity of Willoughby Run. This consisted of

General Buford's cavalry division, which had pushed on in advance

of General Reynolds's infantry corps, the foremost infantry of the

Federal army, and now, almost before it was aware of Hill's presence,

became engaged with him. General Buford posted his horse-artillery

to meet Hill's attack, but it soon became obvious that the Federal

cavalry could not stand before the Southern infantry fire, and General

Reynolds, at about ten in the morning, hastening forward, reached

the field. An engagement immediately took place between the foremost

infantry divisions of Hill and Reynolds. A brigade of Hill's, from

Mississippi, drove back a Federal brigade, seizing upon its artillery;

but, in return, Archer's brigade was nearly surrounded, and several

hundred of the men captured. Almost immediately after this incident

the Federal forces sustained a serious loss; General Reynolds--one

of the most trusted and energetic lieutenants of General Meade--was

mortally wounded while disposing his men for action, and borne from

the field. The Federal troops continued, however, to fight with

gallantry. Some of the men were heard exclaiming, "We have come to

stay!" in reference to which, one of their officers afterward said,

"And a very large portion of them never left that ground."[1]

[Footnote 1: General Doubleday: Report of Committee on the Conduct of

the War, Part I., p. 307.]

Battle was now joined in earnest between the two heads of column, and

on each side reënforcements were sent forward to take part in this

unexpected encounter. Neither General Lee nor General Meade had

expected or desired it. Both had aimed, in manoeuvring their forces,

to select ground suitable for receiving instead of making an attack,

and now a blind chance seemed about to bring on a battle upon ground

unknown to both commanders. When the sound of the engagement was first

heard by Lee, he was in the rear of his troops at the headquarters

which Hill had just vacated, near Cashtown, under the South Mountain.

The firing was naturally supposed by him to indicate an accidental

collision with some body of the enemy's cavalry, and, when

intelligence reached him that Hill was engaged with the Federal

infantry, the announcement occasioned him the greatest astonishment.

General Meade's presence so near him was a circumstance completely

unknown to Lee, and certainly was not desired by him. But a small

portion of his forces were "up." Longstreet had not yet passed the

mountain, and the forces of General Ewell, although that officer

had promptly fallen back, in obedience to his orders, from the

Susquehanna, were not yet in a position to take part in the

engagement. Under these circumstances, if the whole of General Meade's

army had reached Gettysburg, directly in Lee's front, the advantage in

the approaching action must be largely in favor of the Federal army,

and a battle might result in a decisive Confederate defeat.

No choice, however, was now left General Lee. The head of his

advancing column had come into collision with the enemy, and it was

impossible to retire without a battle. Lee accordingly ordered Hill's

corps to be closed up, and reënforcements to be sent forward rapidly

to the point of action. He then mounted his horse and rode in the

direction of the firing, guided by the sound, and the smoke which rose

above the tranquil landscape.

It was a beautiful day and a beautiful season of the year. The fields

were green with grass, or golden with ripening grain, over which

passed a gentle breeze, raising waves upon the brilliant surface. The

landscape was broken here and there by woods; in the west rose the

blue range of the South Mountain; the sun was shining through showery

clouds, and in the east the sky was spanned by a rainbow. This

peaceful scene was now disturbed by the thundering of artillery and

the rattle of musketry. The sky was darkened, here and there, by

clouds of smoke rising from barns or dwelling-houses set on fire by

shell; and beneath rose red tongues of flame, roaring in response to

the guns.

Each side had now sent forward reinforcements to support the

vanguards, and an obstinate struggle ensued, the proportions of the

fight gradually increasing, until the action became a regular battle.

Hill, although suffering from indisposition, which the pallor of his

face indicated, met the Federal attack with his habitual resolution.

He was hard pressed, however, when fortunately one of General Ewell's

divisions, under Rodes, débouched from the Carlisle road, running

northward from Gettysburg, and came to his assistance. Ewell had just

begun to move from Carlisle toward Harrisburg--his second division,

under Early, being at York--when a dispatch from Lee reached him,

directing him to return, and "proceed to Gettysburg or Cashtown, as

his circumstances might direct." He promptly obeyed, encamped within

about eight miles of Gettysburg on the evening of the 30th, and was

now moving toward Cashtown, where Johnson's division of his corps then

was, when Hill sent him word that he needed his assistance. Rodes was

promptly sent forward to the field of action. Early was ordered to

hurry back, and Rodes soon reached the battle-field, where he formed

his line on high ground, opposite the Federal right.

The appearance of this important reënforcement relieved Hill, and

caused the enemy to extend his right to face Rodes. The Federal line

thus resembled a crescent, the left half, fronting Hill, toward the

northwest; and the right, half-fronting Rodes, toward the north--the

town of Gettysburg being in rear of the curve. An obstinate attack was

made by the enemy and by Rodes at nearly the same moment. The loss

on both sides was heavy, but Rodes succeeded in shaking the Federal

right, when Early made his appearance from the direction of York. This

compelled the Federal force to still farther extend its right, to meet

the new attack. The movement greatly weakened them. Rodes charged

their centre with impetuosity; Early came in on their right, with

Gordon's brigade in front, and under this combined attack the Federal

troops gave way, and retreated in great disorder to and through

Gettysburg, leaving the ground covered with their dead and wounded to

the number of about five thousand, and the same number of prisoners in

the hands of the Confederates.

The first collision of the two armies had thus resulted in a clear

Southern victory, and it is to be regretted that this important

success was not followed up by the seizure of the Cemetery Range,

south of the town, which it was in the power of the Southern forces

at that time to do. To whom the blame--if blame there be--of this

failure, is justly chargeable, the writer of these pages is unable to

state. All that he has been able to ascertain with certainty is the

following: As soon as the Federal forces gave way, General Lee rode

forward, and at about four o'clock in the afternoon was posted on an

elevated point of Seminary Ridge, from which he could see the broken

lines of the enemy rapidly retreating up the slope of Cemetery Range,

in his front. The propriety of pursuit, with a view to seizing this

strong position, was obvious, and General Lee sent an officer of his

staff with a message to General Ewell, to the effect that "he could

see the enemy flying, that they were disorganized, and that it was

only necessary to push on vigorously, and the Cemetery heights were

ours." [Footnote: The officer who carried the order is our authority

for this statement.] Just about the moment, it would seem, when this

order was dispatched--about half-past four--General Hill, who had

joined Lee on the ridge, "received a message from General Ewell,

requesting him (Hill) to press the enemy in front, while he performed

the same operation on his right." This statement is taken from the

journal of Colonel Freemantle, who was present and noted the hour. He

adds: "The pressure was accordingly applied, in a mild degree, but the

enemy were too strongly posted, and it was too late in the evening

for a regular attack." General Ewell, an officer of great courage and

energy, is said to have awaited the arrival of his third division

(Johnson's) before making a decisive assault. Upon the arrival of

Johnson, about sunset, General Ewell prepared to advance and seize

upon the eastern terminus of the Cemetery Range, which commanded the

subsequent Federal position. At this moment General Lee sent him word

to "proceed with his troops to the [Confederate] right, in case he

could do nothing where he was;" he proceeded to General Lee's tent

thereupon to confer with him, and the result was that it was agreed

to first assault the hill on the right. It was now, however, after

midnight, and the attack was directed by Lee to be deferred until the

next morning.

It was certainly unfortunate that the advance was not then made; but

Lee, in his report, attributes no blame to any one. "The attack,"

he says, "was not pressed that afternoon, _the enemy's force being

unknown, and it being considered advisable to await the arrival of the

rest of our troops._"

The failure to press the enemy immediately after their retreat, with

the view of driving them from and occupying Cemetery Heights, is

susceptible of an explanation which seems to retrieve the Southern

commander and his subordinates from serious criticism. The Federal

forces had been driven from the ground north and west of Gettysburg,

but it was seen now that the troops thus defeated constituted only

a small portion of General Meade's army, and Lee had no means of

ascertaining, with any degree of certainty, that the main body was not

near at hand. The fact was not improbable, and it was not known that

Cemetery Hill was not then in their possession. The wooded character

of the ground rendered it difficult for General Lee, even from his

elevated position on Seminary Ridge, to discover whether the heights

opposite were, or were not, held by a strong force. Infantry were

visible there; and in the plain in front the cavalry of General Buford

were drawn up, as though ready to accept battle. It was not until

after the battle that it was known that the heights might have been

seized upon--General Hancock, who had succeeded Reynolds, having, to

defend them, but a single brigade. This fact was not known to Lee; the

sun was now declining, and the advance upon Cemetery Hill was deferred

until the next day.

When on the next morning, between daybreak and sunrise, General Lee,

accompanied by Hill, Longstreet, and Hood, ascended to the same point

on Seminary Ridge, and reconnoitred the opposite heights through his

field-glass, they were seen to be occupied by heavy lines of infantry

and numerous artillery. The moment had passed; the rampart in his

front bristled with bayonets and cannon. General Hancock, in command

of the Federal advance, had hastened back at nightfall to General

Meade, who was still some distance in rear, and reported the position

to be an excellent one for receiving the Southern attack. Upon this

information General Meade had at once acted; by one o'clock in the

morning his headquarters were established upon the ridge; and when

Lee, on Seminary Hill opposite, was reconnoitring the heights, the

great bulk of the Federal army was in position to receive his assault.

The adversaries were thus face to face, and a battle could not well

be avoided. Lee and his troops were in high spirits and confident of

victory, but every advantage of position was seen to be on the side of

the enemy.

XVI.

THE TWO ARMIES IN POSITION.

The morning of the 2d of July had arrived, and the two armies were in

presence of each other and ready for battle. The question was, which

of the great adversaries would make the attack.

General Meade was as averse to assuming the offensive as his opponent.

Lee's statement on this subject has been given, but is here repeated:

"It had not been intended to fight a general battle," he wrote, "at

such a distance from our base, _unless attacked by the enemy_."

General Meade said before the war committee afterward, "It was my

desire to fight a defensive rather than an offensive battle," and he

adds the obvious explanation, that he was "satisfied his chances of

success were greater in a defensive battle than an offensive one."

There was this great advantage, however, on the Federal side, that

the troops were on their own soil, with their communications

uninterrupted, and could wait, while General Lee was in hostile

territory, a considerable distance from his base of supplies, and

must, for that reason, either attack his adversary or retreat.

He decided to attack. To this decision he seems to have been impelled,

in large measure, by the extraordinary spirit of his troops, whose

demeanor in the subsequent struggle was said by a Federal officer

to resemble that of men "drunk on champagne." General Longstreet

described the army at this moment as able, from the singular afflatus

which bore it up, to undertake "any thing," and this sanguine spirit

was the natural result of a nearly unbroken series of victories. At

Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, and in the preliminary struggle of

Gettysburg, they had driven the enemy before them in disorder, and, on

the night succeeding this last victory, both officers and men spoke of

the coming battle "as a certainty, and the universal feeling in the

army was one of profound contempt for an enemy whom they had beaten so

constantly, and under so many disadvantages."[1]

[Footnote 1: Colonel Freemantle. He was present, and speaks from

observation.] Contempt of an adversary is dangerous, and pride goes

before a fall. The truth of these pithy adages was now about to be

shown.

General Lee, it is said, shared the general confidence of his troops,

and was carried away by it. He says in his report "Finding ourselves

unexpectedly confronted by the Federal army, it became a matter of

difficulty to withdraw through the mountain with our large trains; at

the same time, the country was unfavorable for collecting supplies

while in the presence of the enemy's main body, as he was enabled to

restrain our foraging-parties by occupying the passes of the mountains

with regular and local troops. A battle thus became in a measure

unavoidable." But, even after the battle, when the Southern army

was much weaker, it was found possible, without much difficulty, to

"withdraw through the mountains" with the trains. A stronger motive

than this is stated in the next sentence of General Lee's report:"

_Encouraged by the successful issue of the engagement of the first

day, and in view of the valuable results that would ensue from the

defeat of the army of General Meade_, it was thought advisable to

renew the attack." The meaning of the writer of these words is plain.

The Federal troops had been defeated with little difficulty in the

first day's fight; it seemed probable that a more serious conflict

would have similar results; and a decisive victory promised to end the

war.

General Meade, it seems, scarcely expected to be attacked. He

anticipated a movement on Lee's part, over the Emmetsburg road

southward. [Footnote: Testimony of General Meade before the war

committee.] By giving that direction to his army, General Lee would

have forced his adversary to retire from his strong position on

Cemetery Hill, or come out and attack him; whether, however, it was

desirable on General Lee's part to run the risk of such an attack on

the Southern column _in transitu_, it is left to others better able

than the present writer to determine.

This unskilled comment must pass for what it is worth. It is easy,

after the event, for the smallest to criticise the greatest. Under

whatever influences, General Lee determined not to retreat, either

through the South Mountain or toward Emmetsburg, but marshalled his

army for an attack on the position held by General Meade.

The Southern lines were drawn up on Seminary Ridge, and on the ground

near Gettysburg. Longstreet's corps was posted on the right, opposite

the Federal left, near the southern end of Cemetery Ridge. Next came

Hill's corps, extending along the crest nearly to Gettysburg. There

it was joined by Ewell's line, which, passing through the town, bent

round, adapting itself to the position of the Federal right which held

the high ground, curving round in the shape of a hook, at the north

end of the ridge.

The Federal lines thus occupied the whole Cemetery Range--which, being

higher, commanded Seminary Ridge--and consisted, counting from right

to left, of the troops of Generals Howard, Hancock, Sickles, Sykes,

and Sedgwick; the two latter forming a strong reserve to guard the

Federal left. The position was powerful, as both flanks rested upon

high ground, which gave every advantage to the assailed party; but on

the Federal left an accidental error, it seems, had been committed by

General Sickles. He had advanced his line to a ridge in front of the

main range, which appeared to afford him a better position; but this

made it necessary to retire the left wing of his corps, to cover the

opening in that direction. The result was, an angle--the effect

of which is to expose troops to serious danger--and this faulty

disposition of the Federal left seems to have induced General Lee to

direct his main attack at the point in question, with the view of

breaking the Federal line, and seizing upon the main ridge in rear.

"In front of General Longstreet," he says, "the enemy held a position

from which, if he could be driven, it was thought that our army could

be used to advantage in assailing the more elevated ground beyond." In

order to coöperate in this, the main attack, Ewell was ordered at the

same time to assail the Federal right toward Gettysburg, and Hill

directed to threaten their centre, and, if there were an opening, make

a real attack. These demonstrations against the enemy's right and

centre, Lee anticipated, would prevent him from reënforcing his left.

Longstreet would thus, he hoped, be "enabled to reach the west of the

ridge" in rear of the Federal line; and General Meade afterward said,

"If they had succeeded in occupying that, it would have prevented

me from holding any of the ground which I subsequently held at the

last"--that is to say, that he would have been driven from the entire

Cemetery Range.

Such was the position of the two adversaries, and such the design of

Lee, on the 2d of July, when the real struggle was about to begin.

XVII.

THE SECOND DAY.

Throughout the forenoon of the day about to witness one of those great

passages of arms which throw so bloody a glare upon the pages of

history, scarcely a sound disturbed the silence, and it was difficult

to believe that nearly two hundred thousand men were watching each

other across the narrow valley, ready at the word to advance and do

their best to tear each other to pieces.

During all these long hours, when expectation and suspense were

sufficient to try the stoutest nerves, the two commanders were

marshalling their lines for the obstinate struggle which was plainly

at hand. General Meade, who knew well the ability of his opponent, was

seeing, in person, to every thing, and satisfying himself that

his lines were in order to receive the attack. Lee was making his

preparations to commence the assault, upon which, there could be

little doubt, the event of the whole war depended.

From the gallantry which the Federal troops displayed in this battle,

they must have been in good heart for the encounter. It is certain

that the Southern army had never been in better condition for a

decisive conflict. We have spoken of the extraordinary confidence

of the men, in themselves and in their commander. This feeling now

exhibited itself either in joyous laughter and the spirit of jesting

among the troops, or in an air of utter indifference, as of men sure

of the result, and giving it scarcely a thought. The swarthy gunners,

still begrimed with powder from the work of the day before, lay down

around the cannon in position along the crest, and passed the moments

in uttering witticisms, or in slumber; and the lines of infantry,

seated or lying, musket in hand, were as careless. The army was

plainly ready, and would respond with alacrity to Lee's signal. Of the

result, no human being in this force of more than seventy thousand men

seemed to have the least doubt.

Lee was engaged during the whole morning and until past noon in

maturing his preparations for the assault which he designed making

against the enemy's left in front of Longstreet. All was not ready

until about four in the afternoon; then he gave the word, and

Longstreet suddenly opened a heavy artillery-fire on the position

opposite him. At this signal the guns of Hill opened from the ridge

on his left, and Ewell's artillery on the Southern left in front of

Gettysburg thundered in response. Under cover of his cannon-fire,

Longstreet then advanced his lines, consisting of Hood's division on

the right, and McLawe's division on the left, and made a headlong

assault upon the Federal forces directly in his front.

The point aimed at was the salient, formed by the projection of

General Sickles's line forward to the high ground known as "The Peach

Orchard." Here, as we have already said, the Federal line of battle

formed an angle, with the left wing of Sickles's corps bending

backward so as to cover the opening between his line and the main

crest in his rear. Hood's division swung round to assail the portion

of the line thus retired, and so rapid was the movement of this

energetic soldier, that in a short space of time he pushed his right

beyond the Federal left flank, had pierced the exposed point, and was

in direct proximity to the much-coveted "crest of the ridge," upon the

possession of which depended the fate of the battle. Hood was fully

aware of its importance, and lost not a moment in advancing to seize

it. His troops, largely composed of those famous Texas regiments which

Lee had said "fought grandly and nobly," and upon whom he relied "in

all tight places," responded to his ardent orders: a small run was

crossed, the men rushed up the slope, and the crest was almost in

their very grasp.

Success at this moment would have decided the event of the battle

of Gettysburg, and in all probability that of the war. All that was

needed was a single brigade upon either side--a force sufficient to

seize the crest, for neither side held it--and with this brigade a

rare good fortune, or rather the prompt energy of a single officer,

according to Northern historians, supplied the Federal commander.

Hood's line was rushing up with cheers to occupy the crest, which here

takes the form of a separate peak, and is known as "Little Round Top,"

when General Warren, chief-engineer of the army, who was passing, saw

the importance of the position, and determined, at all hazards, to

defend it. He accordingly ordered the Federal signal-party, which had

used the peak as a signal-station, but were hastily folding up their

flags, to remain where they were, laid violent hands upon a brigade

which was passing, and ordered it to occupy the crest; and, when

Hood's men rushed up the rocky slope with yells of triumph, they were

suddenly met by a fusillade from the newly-arrived brigade, delivered

full in their faces. A violent struggle ensued for the possession of

the heights. The men fought hand to hand on the summit, and the issue

remained for some time doubtful. At last it was decided in favor of

the Federal troops, who succeeded in driving Hood's men from the hill,

the summit of which was speedily crowned with artillery, which opened

a destructive fire upon the retreating Southerners. They fell back

sullenly, leaving the ground strewed with their dead and wounded. Hood

had been wounded, and many of his best officers had fallen. For an

instant he had grasped in his strong hand the prize which would have

been worth ten times the amount of blood shed; but he had been unable

to retain his hold; he was falling back from the coveted crest,

pursued by that roar of the enemy's cannon which seemed to rejoice in

his discomfiture.

An obstinate struggle was meanwhile taking place in the vicinity of

the Peach Orchard, where the left of Hood and the division of McLaws

had struck the front of General Sickles, and were now pressing his

line back steadily toward the ridge in his rear. In spite of resolute

resistance the Federal troops at this point were pushed back to a

wheat-field in the rear of the Peach Orchard, and, following up this

advantage, Longstreet charged them and broke their line, which fell

back in disorder toward the high ground in rear. In this attack McLaws

was assisted by Hill's right division--that of Anderson. With this

force Longstreet continued to press forward, and, piercing the Federal

line, seemed about to inflict upon them a great disaster by seizing

the commanding position occupied by the Federal left. Nothing appears

to have saved them at this moment from decisive defeat but the

masterly concentration of reënforcements after reënforcements at the

point of danger. The heavy reserves under Generals Sykes and Sedgwick

were opposite this point, and other troops were hastened forward to

oppose Longstreet. This reënforcement was continuous throughout the

entire afternoon. In spite of Lee's demonstrations in other quarters

to direct attention, General Meade--driven by necessity--continued to

move fresh troops incessantly to protect his left; and success finally

came as the reward of his energy and soldiership. Longstreet found his

weary troops met at every new step in advance by fresh lines, and, as

night had now come, he discontinued the attack. The Federal lines had

been driven considerably beyond the point which they had held before

the assault, and were now east of the wheat-field, where some of the

hardest fighting of the day had taken place, but, in spite of this

loss of ground, they had suffered no serious disaster, and, above

all, Lee had not seized upon that "crest of the ridge," which was the

keystone of the position.

Thus Longstreet's attack had been neither a success nor a failure. He

had not accomplished all that was expected, but he had driven back the

enemy from their advanced position, and held strong ground in their

front. A continuance of the assault was therefore deferred until the

next day--night having now come--and General Longstreet ordered the

advance to cease, and the firing to be discontinued.

During the action on the right, Hill had continued to make heavy

demonstrations on the Federal centre, and Ewell had met with excellent

success in the attack, directed by Lee, to be made against the enemy's

right. This was posted upon the semicircular eminence, a little

southeast of Gettysburg, and the Federal works were attacked by Ewell

about sunset. With Early's division on his right, and Johnson's on

his left, Ewell advanced across the open ground in face of a heavy

artillery-fire, the men rushed up the slope, and in a brief space of

time the Federal artillerists and infantry were driven from the works,

which at nightfall remained in Ewell's hands.

Such had been the fate of the second struggle around Gettysburg. The

moon, which rose just as the fighting terminated, threw its ghastly

glare upon a field where neither side had achieved full success.

Lee had not failed, and he had not succeeded. He had aimed to drive

the Federal forces from the Cemetery Range, and had not been able to

effect that object; but they had been forced back upon both their

right and left, and a substantial advantage seemed thus to have been

gained. That the Confederate success was not complete, seems to have

resulted from the failure to seize the Round-Top Hill. The crisis

of the battle had undoubtedly been the moment when Hood was so near

capturing this position--in reference to the importance of which we

quoted General Meade's own words. It was saved to the Federal army by

the presence of mind, it seems, of a single officer, and the gallantry

of a single brigade. Such are the singular chances of battle, in which

the smallest causes so often effect the greatest results.

General Lee, in company with General Hill, had, during the battle,

occupied his former position on Seminary Ridge, near the centre of his

line--quietly seated, for the greater portion of the time, upon the

stump of a tree, and looking thoughtfully toward the opposite heights

which Longstreet was endeavoring to storm. His demeanor was entirely

calm and composed. An observer would not have concluded that he was

the commander-in-chief. From time to time he raised his field-glass to

his eyes, and rising said a few words to General Hill or General Long,

of his staff. After this brief colloquy, he would return to his seat

on the stump, and continue to direct his glass toward the wooded

heights held by the enemy. A notable circumstance, and one often

observed upon other occasions, was that, during the entire action, he

scarcely sent an order. During the time Longstreet was engaged--from

about half-past four until night--he sent but one message, and

received but one report. Having given full directions to his able

lieutenants, and informed them of the objects which he desired to

attain, he, on this occasion as upon others, left the execution of his

orders to them, relying upon their judgment and ability.

A singular incident occurred at this moment, which must have diverted

Lee, temporarily, from his abstracted mood. In the midst of the most

furious part of the cannonade, when the air was filled with exploding

shell, a Confederate band of music, between the opposing lines, just

below General Lee's position, began defiantly playing polkas and

waltzes on their instruments. The incident was strange in the midst

of such a hurly-burly. The bloody battle-field seemed turned into a

ballroom.

With nightfall the firing sunk to silence. The moon had risen, and the

pale light now lit up the faces of the dead and wounded of both sides.

Lee's first great assault had failed to secure the full results which

he had anticipated from it.

XVIII.

THE LAST CHARGE AT GETTYSBURG.

The weird hours of the moonlit night succeeding the "second day at

Gettysburg" witnessed a consultation between Lee and his principal

officers, as to the propriety of renewing the attack on the Federal

position, or falling back in the direction of the Potomac. In favor of

the latter course there seemed to be many good reasons. The supplies,

both of provisions and ammunition, were running short. The army,

although unshaken, had lost heavily in the obstinately-disputed

attack. In the event of defeat now, its situation might become

perilous, and the destruction of the Army of Northern Virginia was

likely to prove that of the Southern cause. On the other hand, the

results of the day's fighting, if not decisive, had been highly

encouraging. On both the Federal wings the Confederates had gained

ground, which they still held. Longstreet's line was in advance of the

Peach Orchard, held by the enemy on the morning of the second,

and Ewell was still rooted firmly, it seemed, in their works near

Gettysburg. These advantages were certainly considerable, and promised

success to the Southern arms, if the assault were renewed. But the

most weighty consideration prompting a renewal of the attack was the

condition of the troops. They were undismayed and unshaken either in

spirit or efficiency, and were known both to expect and to desire

a resumption of the assault. Even after the subsequent charge of

Pickett, which resulted so disastrously, the ragged infantry were

heard exclaiming: "We've not lost confidence in the old man! This

day's work won't do him no harm! Uncle Robert will get us into

Washington yet!" Add to this the fact that the issue of the second day

had stirred up in Lee himself all the martial ardor of his nature;

and there never lived a more thorough _soldier_, when he was fully

aroused, than the Virginian. All this soldiership of the man revolted

at the thought of retreating and abandoning his great enterprise. He

looked, on the one hand, at his brave army, ready at the word to again

advance upon the enemy--at that enemy scarce able on the previous

day to hold his position--and, weighing every circumstance in his

comprehensive mind, which "looked before and after," Lee determined on

the next morning to try a decisive assault upon the Federal troops;

to storm, if possible, the Cemetery Range, and at one great blow

terminate the campaign and the war.

The powerful influences which we have mentioned, coöperating, shaped

the decision to which Lee had come. He would not retreat, but fight.

The campaign should not be abandoned without at least one great charge

upon the Federal position; and orders were now given for a renewal

of the attack on the next morning. "The general plan of attack," Lee

says, "was unchanged, except that one division and two brigades of

Hill's corps were ordered to support Longstreet." From these words it

is obvious that Lee's main aim now, as on the preceding day, was to

force back the Federal left in front of Longstreet, and seize the high

ground commanding the whole ridge in flank and reverse. To this

end Longstreet was reënforced, and the great assault was evidently

intended to take place in that quarter. But circumstances caused

an alteration, as will be seen, in Lee's plans. The centre, thus

weakened, was from stress of events to become the point of decisive

struggle. The assaults of the previous day had been directed against

the two extremities of the enemy; the assault of the third day, which

would decide the fate of the battle and the campaign, was to be the

furious rush of Pickett's division of Virginian troops at the enemy's

centre, on Cemetery Hill.

A preliminary conflict, brought on by the Federal commander, took

place early in the morning. Ewell had continued throughout the night

to hold the enemy's breastworks on their right, from which he had

driven them in the evening. As dawn approached now, he was about to

resume the attack; and, in obedience to Lee's orders, attempt to

"dislodge the enemy" from other parts of the ridge, when General Meade

took the initiative, and opened upon him a furious fire of cannon,

which was followed by a determined infantry charge to regain the hill.

Ewell held his ground with the obstinate nerve which characterized

him, and the battle raged about four hours--that is, until about eight

o'clock. At that time, however, the pressure of the enemy became too

heavy to stand. General Meade succeeded in driving Ewell from the

hill, and the Federal lines were reëstablished on the commanding

ground which they had previously occupied.

This event probably deranged, in some degree, General Lee's

plans, which contemplated, as we have seen, an attack by Ewell

contemporaneous with the main assault by Longstreet. Ewell was in no

condition at this moment to assume the offensive again; and the pause

in the fighting appears to have induced General Lee to reflect and

modify his plans. Throughout the hours succeeding the morning's

struggle, Lee, attended by Generals Hill and Longstreet, and their

staff-officers, rode along the lines, reconnoitring the opposite

heights, and the cavalcade was more than once saluted by bullets from

the enemy's sharp-shooters, and an occasional shell. The result of

the reconnoissance seems to have been the conclusion that the Federal

left--now strengthened by breastworks, behind which powerful reserves

lay waiting--was not a favorable point for attack. General Meade,

no doubt, expected an assault there; and, aroused to a sense of his

danger by the Confederate success of the previous day, had made every

preparation to meet a renewal of the movement. The Confederate left

and centre remained, but it seemed injudicious to think of attacking

from Ewell's position. A concentration of the Southern force there

would result in a dangerous separation of the two wings of the army;

and, in the event of failure, the enemy would have no difficulty in

descending and turning Lee's right flank, and thus interposing between

him and the Potomac.

The centre only was left, and to this Lee now turned his attention. A

determined rush, with a strong column at Cemetery Hill in his front,

might wrest that point from the enemy. Then their line would be

pierced; the army would follow; Lee would be rooted on this commanding

ground, directly between the two Federal wings, upon which their own

guns might be turned, and the defeat of General Meade must certainly

follow. Such were, doubtless, the reflections of General Lee, as he

rode along the Seminary Range, scanning, through his field-glass, the

line of the Federal works. His decision was made, and orders were

given by him to prepare the column for the assault. For the hard

work at hand, Pickett's division of Virginian troops, which had just

arrived and were fresh, was selected. These were to be supported by

Heth's division of North Carolina troops, under General Pettigrew, who

was to move on Pickett's left; and a brigade of Hill's, under General

Wilcox, was to cover the right of the advancing column, and protect it

from a flank attack.

The advance of the charging column was preceded by a tremendous

artillery-fire, directed from Seminary Ridge at the enemy's left and

centre. This began about an hour past noon, and the amount of thunder

thus unloosed will be understood from the statement that Lee employed

one hundred and forty-five pieces of artillery, and the enemy

replied with eighty--in all _two hundred and twenty-five_ guns, all

discharging at the same time. For nearly two hours this frightful

hurly-burly continued, the harsh roar reverberating ominously in the

gorges of the hills, and thrown back, in crash after crash, from the

rocky slopes of the two ridges. To describe this fire afterward,

the cool soldier, General Hancock, could find no other but the word

_terrific_. "Their artillery-fire," he says, "was the most terrific

cannonade I ever witnessed, and the most prolonged.... It was a

most terrific and appalling cannonade--one possibly hardly ever

paralleled."

While this artillery-duel was in progress, the charging column was

being formed on the west of Seminary Ridge, opposite the Federal

centre on Cemetery Hill. Pickett drew up his line with Kemper's and

Garnett's brigades in front, and Armistead's brigade in rear. The

brigade under General Wilcox took position on the right, and on the

left was placed the division under Pettigrew, which was to participate

in the charge. The force numbered between twelve and fifteen thousand

men; but, as will be seen, nearly in the beginning of the action

Pickett was left alone, and thus his force of about five thousand was

all that went forward to pierce the centre of the Federal army.

The opposing ridges at this point are about one mile asunder, and

across this space Pickett moved at the word, his line advancing

slowly, and perfectly "dressed," with its red battle-flags flying, and

the sunshine darting from the gun-barrels and bayonets. The two armies

were silent, concentrating their whole attention upon this slow and

ominous advance of men who seemed in no haste, and resolved to allow

nothing to arrest them. When the column had reached a point about

midway between the opposing heights the Federal artillery suddenly

opened a furious fire upon them, which inflicted considerable loss.

This, however, had no effect upon the troops, who continued to advance

slowly in the same excellent order, without exhibiting any desire

to return the fire. It was impossible to witness this steady and

well-ordered march under heavy fire without feeling admiration for the

soldiership of the troops who made it. Where shell tore gaps in the

ranks, the men quietly closed up, and the hostile front advanced in

the same ominous silence toward the slope where the real struggle, all

felt, would soon begin.

They were within a few hundred yards of the hill, when suddenly a

rapid cannon-fire thundered on their right, and shell and canister

from nearly fifty pieces of artillery swept the Southern line,

enfilading it, and for an instant throwing the right into some

disorder. This disappeared at once, however. The column closed up, and

continued to advance, unmoved, toward the height. At last the moment

came. The steady "common-time" step had become "quick time;" this had

changed to "double-quick;" then the column rushed headlong at the

enemy's breastworks on the slope of the hill. As they did so, the real

thunder began. A fearful fire of musketry burst forth, and struck them

in the face, and this hurricane scattered the raw troops of Pettigrew

as leaves are scattered by a wind. That whole portion of the line gave

way in disorder, and fled from the field, which was strewed with their

dead; and, as the other supports had not kept up, the Virginians under

Pickett were left alone to breast the tempest which had now burst upon

them in all its fury.

They returned the fire from the breastworks in their front with a

heavy volley, and then, with loud cheers, dashed at the enemy's works,

which they reached, stormed, and took possession of at the point of

the bayonet. Their loss, however, was frightful. Garnett was killed;

Armistead fell, mortally wounded, as he leaped on the breastworks,

cheering and waving his hat; Kemper was shot and disabled, and the

ranks of the Virginians were thinned to a handful. The men did not,

however, pause. The enemy had partially retreated, from their first

line of breastworks, to a second and stronger one about sixty yards

beyond, and near the crest; and here the Federal reserve, as Northern

writers state, was drawn up "four deep." This line, bristling with

bayonets and cannon, the Virginians now charged, in the desperate

attempt to storm it with the bayonet, and pierce, in a decisive

manner, the centre of the Federal army. But the work was too great

for their powers. As they made their brave rush they were met by a

concentrated fire full in their faces, and on both flanks at the

same moment. This fire did not so much cause them to lose heart, as

literally hurl them back. Before it the whole charging column seemed

to melt and disappear. The bravest saw now that further fighting was

useless--that the works in their front could not be stormed--and, with

the frightful fire of the enemy still tearing their lines to pieces,

the poor remnants of the brave division retreated from the hill. As

they fell back, sullenly, like bull-dogs from whom their prey had been

snatched just as it was in their grasp, the enemy pursued them with a

destructive fire both of cannon and musketry, which mowed down large

numbers, if large numbers, indeed, can be said to have been left.

The command had been nearly annihilated. Three generals, fourteen

field-officers, and three-fourths of the men, were dead, wounded, or

prisoners. The Virginians had done all that could be done by soldiers.

They had advanced undismayed into the focus of a fire unsurpassed,

perhaps, in the annals of war; had fought bayonet to bayonet; had left

the ground strewed with their dead; and the small remnant who

survived were now sullenly retiring, unsubdued; and, if repulsed, not

"whipped."

Such was the last great charge at Gettysburg. Lee had concentrated in

it all his strength, it seemed. When it failed, the battle and the

campaign failed with it.

[Illustration: Lee at Gettysburg.]

XIX.

LEE AFTER THE CHARGE.

The demeanor of General Lee at this moment, when his hopes were all

reversed, and his last great blow at the enemy had failed, excited the

admiration of all who witnessed it, and remains one of the greatest

glories of his memory.

Seeing, from his place on Seminary Ridge, the unfortunate results

of the attack, he mounted his horse and rode forward to meet and

encourage the retreating troops. The air was filled with exploding

shell, and the men were coming back without order. General Lee now met

them, and with his staff-officers busied himself in rallying them,

uttering as he did so words of hope and encouragement. Colonel

Freemantle, who took particular notice of him at this moment,

describes his conduct as "perfectly sublime." "Lee's countenance," he

adds, "did not show signs of the slightest disappointment, care, or

annoyance," but preserved the utmost placidity and cheerfulness. The

hurry and confusion of the scene seemed not to move him in any manner,

and he rode slowly to and fro, saying in his grave, kindly voice to

the men: "All this will come right in the end. We'll talk it over

afterward, but in the mean time all good men must rally. We want all

good and true men just now."

Numbers of wounded passed him, some stretched on litters, which men

wearing the red badge of the ambulance corps were bearing to the rear,

others limping along bleeding from hurts more or less serious. To the

badly wounded Lee uttered words of sympathy and kindness; to those

but slightly injured, he said: "Come, bind up your wound and take a

musket," adding "my friend," as was his habit.

An evidence of his composure and absence of flurry was presented by a

slight incident. An officer near him was striking his horse violently

for becoming frightened and unruly at the bursting of a shell, when

General Lee, seeing that the horse was terrified and the punishment

would do no good, said, in tones of friendly remonstrance: "Don't

whip him, captain, don't whip him. I've got just such a foolish horse

myself, and whipping does no good."

Meanwhile the men continued to stream back, pursued still by that

triumphant roar of the enemy's artillery which swept the whole valley

and slope of Seminary Ridge with shot and shell. Lee was everywhere

encouraging them, and they responded by taking off their hats and

cheering him--even the wounded joining in this ceremony. Although

exposing himself with entire indifference to the heavy fire, he

advised Colonel Freemantle, as that officer states, to shelter

himself, saying: "This has been a sad day for us, colonel, a sad day.

But we can't expect always to gain victories."

As he was thus riding about in the fringe of woods, General Wilcox,

who, about the time of Pickett's repulse, had advanced and speedily

been thrown back with loss, rode up and said, almost sobbing as he

spoke, that his brigade was nearly destroyed. Lee held out his hand to

him as he was speaking, and, grasping the hand of his subordinate in

a friendly manner, replied with great gentleness and kindness: "Never

mind, general, all this has been _my_ fault. It is _I_ who have lost

this fight, and you must help me out of it in the best way you can."

This supreme calmness and composure in the commander-in-chief rapidly

communicated itself to the troops, who soon got together again, and

lay down quietly in line of battle in the fringe of woods along the

crest of the ridge, where Lee placed them as they came up. In front of

them the guns used in the great cannonade were still in position, and

Lee was evidently making every preparation in his power for the highly

probable event of an instant assault upon him in his disordered

condition, by the enemy. It was obvious that the situation of affairs

at the moment was such as to render such an attack highly perilous to

the Southern troops--and a sudden cheering which was now heard running

along the lines of the enemy on the opposite heights, seemed clearly

to indicate that their forces were moving. Every preparation possible

under the circumstances was made to meet the anticipated assault; the

repulsed troops of Pickett, like the rest of the army, were ready and

even eager for of the attack--but it did not come. The cheering was

afterward ascertained to have been simply the greeting of the men to

some one of their officers as he rode along the lines; and night fell

without any attempt on the Federal side to improve their success.

That success was indeed sufficient, and little would have been gained,

and perhaps much perilled, by a counter-attack. Lee was not defeated,

but he had not succeeded. General Meade could, with propriety, refrain

from an attack. The battle of Gettysburg had been a Federal victory.

Thus had ended the last great conflict of arms on Northern soil--in a

decisive if not a crushing repulse of the Southern arms. The chain of

events has been so closely followed in the foregoing pages, and the

movements of the two armies have been described with such detail,

that any further comment or illustration is unnecessary. The opposing

armies had been handled with skill and energy, the men had never

fought better, and the result seems to have been decided rather by

an occult decree of Providence than by any other circumstance. The

numbers on each side were nearly the same, or differed so slightly

that, in view of past conflicts, fought with much greater odds in

favor of the one side, they might be regarded as equal. The Southern

army when it approached Gettysburg numbered sixty-seven thousand

bayonets, and the cavalry and artillery probably made the entire force

about eighty thousand. General Meade's statement is that his own force

was about one hundred thousand. The Federal loss was twenty-three

thousand one hundred and ninety. The Southern losses were also severe,

but cannot be ascertained. They must have amounted, however, to at

least as large a number, even larger, perhaps, as an attacking army

always suffers more heavily than one that is attacked.

What is certain, however, is that the Southern army, if diminished in

numbers and strength, was still unshaken.

XX.

LEE'S RETREAT ACROSS THE POTOMAC.

Lee commenced his retreat in the direction of the Potomac on the night

of the 4th of July. That the movement did not begin earlier is the

best proof of the continued efficiency of his army and his own

willingness to accept battle if the enemy were inclined to offer it.

After the failure of the attack on the Federal centre, he had

withdrawn Ewell from his position southeast of Gettysburg, and,

forming a continuous line of battle on Seminary Ridge, awaited the

anticipated assault of General Meade. What the result of such an

assault would have been it is impossible to say, but the theory that

an attack would have terminated in the certain rout of the Southern

army has nothing whatever to support it. The _morale_ of Lee's army

was untouched. The men, instead of being discouraged by the tremendous

conflicts of the preceding days, were irate, defiant, and ready to

resume the struggle. Foreign officers, present at the time, testify

fully upon this point, describing the demeanor of the troops as all

that could be desired in soldiers; and General Longstreet afterward

stated that, with his two divisions under Hood and McLaws, and his

powerful artillery, he was confident, had the enemy attacked, of

inflicting upon them a blow as heavy as that which they had

inflicted upon Pickett. The testimony of General Meade himself fully

corroborates these statements. When giving his evidence afterward

before the war committee, he said:

"My opinion is, now, that General Lee evacuated that position, _not

from the fear that he would be dislodged from it by any active

operations on my part_, but that he was fearful that a force would be

sent to Harper's Ferry to cut off his communications.... That was what

caused him to retire."

When asked the question, "Did you discover, after the battle of

Gettysburg, any symptoms of demoralization in Lee's army?" General

Meade replied, "No, sir; I saw nothing of that kind."[1]

[Footnote 1: Report of Committee on Conduct of War, Part I., page

337.]

There was indeed no good reason why General Lee should feel any

extreme solicitude for the safety of his army, which, after all its

losses, still numbered more than fifty thousand troops; and, with that

force of veteran combatants, experience told him, he could count upon

holding at bay almost any force which the enemy could bring against

him. At Chancellorsville, with a less number, he had nearly routed a

larger army than General Meade's. If the _morale_ of the men remained

unbroken, he had the right to feel secure now; and we have shown that

the troops were as full of fight as ever. The exclamations of the

ragged infantry, overheard by Colonel Freemantle, expressed the

sentiment of the whole army. Recoiling from the fatal charge on

Cemetery Hill, and still followed by the terrible fire, they had heart

to shout defiantly: "We've not lost confidence in the old man! This

day's work won't do him no harm! Uncle Robert will get us into

Washington yet--you bet he will!"

Lee's reasons for retiring toward the Potomac were unconnected with

the _morale_ of his army. "The difficulty of procuring supplies," he

says, "rendered it impossible to continue longer where we were." What

he especially needed was ammunition, his supply of which had been

nearly exhausted by the three days' fighting, and it was impossible to

count upon new supplies of these essential stores now that the enemy

were in a condition to interrupt his communications in the direction

of Harper's Ferry and Williamsport. The danger to which the army was

thus exposed was soon shown not to have been overrated. General Meade

promptly sent a force to occupy Harper's Ferry, and a body of his

cavalry, hastening across the South Mountain, reached the Potomac near

Falling Waters, where they destroyed a pontoon bridge laid there for

the passage of the Southern army.

Lee accordingly resolved to retire, and, after remaining in line of

battle on Seminary Ridge throughout the evening and night of the 3d

and the whole of the 4th, during which time he was busy burying his

dead, began to withdraw, by the Fairfield and Chambersburg roads, on

the night of this latter day. The movement was deliberate, and without

marks of haste, the rear-guard not leaving the vicinity of Gettysburg

until the morning of the 5th. Those who looked upon the Southern army

at this time can testify that the spirit of the troops was unsubdued.

They had been severely checked, but there every thing had ended.

Weary, covered with dust, with wounds whose bandages were soaked in

blood, the men tramped on in excellent spirits, and were plainly ready

to take position at the first word from Lee, and meet any attack of

the enemy with a nerve as perfect as when they had advanced.

For the reasons stated by himself, General Meade did not attack. He

had secured substantial victory by awaiting Lee's assault on strong

ground, and was unwilling now to risk a disaster, such as he had

inflicted, by attacking Lee in position. The enthusiasm of the

authorities at Washington was not shared by the cool commander of

the Federal army. He perfectly well understood the real strength and

condition of his adversary, and seems never to have had any intention

of striking at him unless a change of circumstances gave him some

better prospect of success than he could see at that time.

The retrograde movement of the Southern army now began, Lee's trains

retiring by way of Chambersburg, and his infantry over the Fairfield

road, in the direction of Hagerstown. General Meade at first moved

directly on the track of his enemy. The design of a "stern chase" was,

however, speedily abandoned by the Federal commander, who changed the

direction of his march and moved southward toward Frederick. When near

that point he crossed the South Mountain, went toward Sharpsburg, and

on the 12th of July found himself in front of the Southern army near

Williamsport, where Lee had formed line of battle to receive his

adversary's attack.

The deliberate character of General Meade's movements sufficiently

indicates the disinclination he felt to place himself directly in his

opponent's front, and thus receive the full weight of his attack.

There is reason, indeed, to believe that nothing could better have

suited the views of General Meade than for Lee to have passed the

Potomac before his arrival--which event would have signified the

entire abandonment of the campaign of invasion, leaving victory on the

side of the Federal army. But the elements seemed to conspire to bring

on a second struggle, despite the reluctance of both commanders. The

recent rains had swollen the Potomac to such a degree as to render it

unfordable, and, as the pontoon near Williamsport had been destroyed

by the Federal cavalry, Lee was brought to bay on the north bank of

the river, where, on the 12th, as we have said, General Meade found

him in line of battle.

Lee's demeanor, at this critical moment, was perfectly undisturbed,

and exhibited no traces whatever of anxiety, though he must have felt

much. In his rear was a swollen river, and in his front an adversary

who had been reënforced with a considerable body of troops, and now

largely outnumbered him. In the event of battle and defeat, the

situation of the Southern army must be perilous in the extreme.

Nothing would seem to be left it, in that event, but surrender, or

dispersion among the western mountains, where the detached bodies

would be hunted down in detail and destroyed or captured. Confidence

in himself and his men remained, however, with General Lee, and,

with his line extending from near Hagerstown to a point east of

Williamsport, he calmly awaited the falling of the river, resolved,

doubtless, if in the mean time the enemy attacked him, to fight to the

last gasp for the preservation of his army.

No attack was made by General Meade, who, arriving in front of Lee on

the 12th, did no more, on that day, than feel along the Southern lines

for a point to assault. On the next day he assembled a council of war,

and laid the question before them, whether or not it were advisable

to make an assault. The votes of the officers were almost unanimously

against it, as Lee's position seemed strong and the spirit of his army

defiant; and the day passed without any attempt of the Federal army to

dislodge its adversary.

While General Meade was thus hesitating, Lee was acting. A portion

of the pontoon destroyed by the enemy was recovered, new boats were

built, and a practicable bridge was completed, near Falling Waters, by

the evening of the 13th. The river had also commenced falling, and by

this time was fordable near Williamsport. Toward dawn on the 14th the

army commenced moving, in the midst of a violent rain-storm, across

the river at both points, and Lee, sitting his horse upon the river's

bank, superintended the operation, as was his habit on occasions of

emergency. Loss of rest and fatigue, with that feeling of suspense

unavoidable under the circumstances, had impaired the energies of even

his superb physical constitution. As the bulk of the rear-guard of the

army safely passed over the shaky bridge, which Lee had looked at

with some anxiety as it swayed to and fro, lashed by the current, he

uttered a sigh of relief, and a great weight seemed taken from his

shoulders. Seeing his fatigue and exhaustion. General Stuart gave him

some coffee; he drank it with avidity, and declared, as he handed back

the cup, that nothing had ever refreshed him so much.

When General Meade, who is said to have resolved on an attack, in

spite of the opposition of his officers, looked, on the morning of the

14th, toward the position held on the previous evening by the Southern

army, he saw that the works were deserted. The Army of Northern

Virginia had vanished from the hills on which it had been posted, and

was at that moment crossing the Potomac. Pressing on its track toward

Falling Waters, the Federal cavalry came up with the rear, and in the

skirmish which ensued fell the brave Pettigrew, who had supported

Pickett in the great charge at Gettysburg, where he had waved his hat

in front of his men, and, in spite of a painful wound, done all in his

power to rally his troops. With this exception, and a few captures

resulting from accident, the army sustained no losses. The movement

across the Potomac had been effected, in face of the whole Federal

army, as successfully as though that army had been a hundred miles

distant.[1]

[Footnote 1: Upon this point different statements were subsequently

made by Generals Lee and Meade, and Lee's reply to the statements of

his opponent is here given:

HEADQUARTERS ARMY NORTHERN VIRGINIA,

_July 21, 1863._

_General S. Cooper, Adjutant and Inspector-General C.S.A., Richmond,

Va_.:

GENERAL: I have seen in Northern papers what purported to be an

official dispatch from General Meade, stating that he had captured

a brigade of Infantry, two pieces of artillery, two caissons, and a

large number of small-arms, as this army retired to the south bank of

the Potomac, on the 13th and 14th inst.

This dispatch has been copied into the Richmond papers, and, as its

official character may cause it to be believed, I desire to state that

it is incorrect. The enemy did not capture any organized body of men

on that occasion, but only stragglers, and such as were left asleep

on the road, exhausted by the fatigue and exposure of one of the most

inclement nights I have ever known at this season of the year. It

rained without cessation, rendering the road by which our troops

marched to the bridge at Falling Waters very difficult to pass, and

causing so much delay that the last of the troops did not cross the

river at the bridge until 1 P.M. on the 14th. While the column was

thus detained on the road a number of men, worn down by fatigue, lay

down in barns, and by the roadside, and though officers were sent

back to arouse them, as the troops moved on, the darkness and rain

prevented them from finding all, and many were in this way left

behind. Two guns were left on the road. The horses that drew them

became exhausted, and the officers went forward to procure others.

When they returned, the rear of the column had passed the guns so far

that it was deemed unsafe to send back for them, and they were thus

lost. No arms, cannon, or prisoners, were taken by the enemy in

battle, but only such as were left behind under the circumstances I

have described. The number of stragglers thus lost I am unable to

state with accuracy, but it is greatly exaggerated in the dispatch

referred to.

I am, with great respect, your obedient servant,

R.E. LEE, _General_.

The solicitude here exhibited by the Southern commander, that the

actual facts should be recorded, is natural, and displayed Lee's

spirit of soldiership. He was unwilling that his old army should

appear in the light of a routed column, retreating in disorder, with

loss of men and munitions, when they lost neither.]

XXI.

ACROSS THE BLUE RIDGE AGAIN.

Lee moved his army to the old encampment on the banks of the Opequan

which it had occupied after the retreat from Sharpsburg, in September,

1862, and here a few days were spent in resting.

We have, in the journal of a foreign officer, an outline of Lee's

personal appearance at this time, and, as we are not diverted from

these characteristic details at the moment by the narrative of great

events, this account of Lee, given by the officer in question--Colonel

Freemantle, of the British Army--is laid before the reader:

"General Lee is, almost without exception, the handsomest man of

his age I ever saw. He is tall, broad-shouldered, very well made,

well set up--a thorough soldier in appearance--and his manners are

most courteous, and full of dignity. He is a perfect gentleman

in every respect. I imagine no man has so few enemies, or is so

universally esteemed. Throughout the South, all agree in

pronouncing him as near perfection as man can be. He has none of

the small vices, such as smoking, drinking, chewing, or swearing;

and his bitterest enemy never accused him of any of the greater

ones. He generally wears a well-worn, long gray jacket, a high

black-felt hat, and blue trousers, tucked into his Wellington

boots. I never saw him carry arms, and the only marks of his

military rank are the three stars on his collar. He rides a

handsome horse, which is extremely well governed. He himself is

very neat in his dress and person, and in the most arduous marches

he always looks smart and clean.... It is understood that General

Lee is a religious man, though not so demonstrative in that

respect as Jackson, and, unlike his late brother-in-arms, he is a

member of the Church of England. His only faults, so far as I can

learn, arise from his excessive amiability."

This personal description is entirely correct, except that the word

"jacket" conveys a somewhat erroneous idea of Lee's undress uniform

coat, and his hat was generally gray. Otherwise, the sketch is exactly

accurate, and is here presented as the unprejudiced description and

estimate of a foreign gentleman, who had no inducement, such as might

be attributed to a Southern writer, to overcolor his portrait. Such,

in personal appearance, was the leader of the Southern army--a plain

soldier, in a plain dress, without arms, with slight indications of

rank, courteous, full of dignity, a "perfect gentleman," and with no

fault save an "excessive amiability." The figure is attractive to the

eye--it excited the admiration of a foreign officer, and remains in

many memories now, when the sound of battle is hushed, and the great

leader, in turn, has finished his life-battle and lain down in peace.

The movements of the two armies were soon resumed, and we shall

briefly follow those movements, which led the adversaries back to the

Rappahannock.

Lee appears to have conceived the design, after crossing the Potomac

at Williamsport, to pass the Shenandoah River and the Blue Ridge, and

thus place himself in the path of General Meade if he crossed east

of the mountain, or threaten Washington. This appears from his own

statement. "Owing," he says, "to the swollen condition of _the

Shenandoah River, the plan of operations which had been contemplated

when we recrossed the Potomac could not be put in execution_". The

points fixed upon by Lee for passing the mountain were probably

Snicker's and Ashby's Gaps, opposite Berryville and Millwood. The

rains had, however, made the river, in these places, unfordable. On

the 17th and 18th days of July, less than a week after Lee's crossing

at Williamsport, General Meade passed the Potomac above Leesburg, and

Lee moved his army in the direction of Chester Gap, near Front Royal,

toward Culpepper.

The new movements were almost identically the same as the old, when

General McClellan advanced, in November, 1862, and the adoption of

the same plans by General Meade involves a high compliment to his

predecessor. He acted with even more energy. As Lee's head of column

was defiling toward Chester Gap, beyond Front Royal, General Meade

struck at it through Manassas Gap, directly on its flank, and an

action followed which promised at one time to become serious. The

enemy was, however, repulsed, and the Southern column continued its

way across the mountain. The rest of the army followed, and descended

into Culpepper, from which position, when Longstreet was detached to

the west, Lee retired, taking post behind the Rapidan.

General Meade thereupon followed, and occupied Culpepper, his advance

being about half-way between Culpepper Court-House and the river.

Such was the position of the two armies in the first days of October,

when Lee, weary, it seemed, of inactivity, set out to flank and fight

his adversary.