By my side was a woman ... weeping.
* * * * *
Lee's guns are grumbling in all the southwest quadrant of the horizon.
In the west Gregg's cavalry impedes the advance of A.P. Hill; in the
south Fitzhugh Lee is pressing hard upon Buford.
The retreat continues; I hold a woman's hand in mine.
* * * * *
Past the middle of an autumn night, where thick forests added to the
darkness fitfully relieved by the fires of hasty bivouacs, there sat,
apart from cannon and bayonets and sleeping battalions, a group
of three.
One was a man of years and of thought and of many virtues--at least a
sage, at least a hero.
One was a woman, young and sweet and pure and devoted.
One was a common soldier.