the valuable results which would ensue from the defeat of the army of General Meade, it was thought advisable to renew the attack."

The fact is, the difficulties of retreat was an inferiour consideration, in Gen. Lee's mind, to others which he hints in his official word. Those difficulties were not insuperable. Gen. Longstreet was opposed to the risk of attack at Gettysburg, and proposed to manoeuvre Meade out of his position by a march on Frederick, threatening Washington. But the confidence of Gen. Lee in his troops, inspired by the results of the first day, overruled all other considerations; he felt that the temper of his men justified almost any enterprise; he had promised a repetition in Pennsylvania of the victories that had so often crowned their arms in Virginia; and witnessing the enthusiasm of his men, he could not bear to shock their expectations and to abandon his own towering hopes by declining battle, and changing the bold policy of invasion to a campaign of manœuvres.

It was the animus and inspiration of the invasion that determined him to attack. In the morning of the 2d July, his line of battle was formed: Ewell occupying the left, A. P. Hill the centre, and Longstreet the right. The battle raged with unexampled fury. Longstreet broke the first part of the enemy's line in his front, and made one of those mortal struggles, rare in war, for the possession of "Round Top "-a steep hill, the key of the enemy's position. The opposing forces were clinched here in close contest. It was, as Longstreet describes it, fighting "belly to belly." He gained some ground, and once some of his brigades were in temporary possession of the prize, but unable to hold it for want of a timely reinforcement. On the left, Ewell had thrust himself within the breastworks of the enemy, and gained some important positions, but the chief action of the day had been borne by Longstreet's corps and a part of Anderson's division of Hill's corps; and although the force had failed to obtain the coveted prize of "Round Top," it had carried the whole front of the enemy on which Sickles' ill-fated corps had been drawn, and night found the advantage on the side of the Confederates.

The next day the fiery drama was resumed at noon. Gen Lee's plan of attack had been previously directed against both flanks of the enemy's position, but he now altered his determina

tion, and resolved to assault Meade's centre, under cover of a heavy fire of artillery. More than 100 guns of the batteries of Longstreet's and Hill's corps opened a simultaneous fire, whilst Ewell's artillery, from the neighbourhood of Gettysburg, played on the slopes of Cemetery Hill. The Federal batteries replied, and for the space of two hours, a cannonade, whose volume had not yet been equalled in the war, thundered in the narrow valley separating the two armies. The Confederate columns of attack were formed on the edge of the woods, Pickett's division to lead the van, with one brigade of Hill's corps, commanded by Wilcox, on his right, and Heth's division under Gen. Pettigrew, on his left. There was an intervening space of near a mile, over not more than one-half of which, the Confederate artillery could protect the devoted troops. As they descended the hill and emerged into the plain, they received the fire of the enemy's artillery; but through shot and shell, Pickett carried his hostile front in compact and magnificent order. With a steady advance that awed the enemy, the Virginia troops came within musketry range. The artillery had ploughed their ranks in vain, and the lines of Federal infantry, with breathless expectation, braced themselves to receive the impact. Buffeting the severe volleys that met it, rushing up the crest of Cemetery Ridge, thrusting itself within the lines of the enemy, the solitary division of Pickett carried the long-contested heights and crowned the stone wall, from which had leaped so many messengers of death, with the battle-flags of the Confederacy. But, under the quick, desperate volleys of the enemy's musketry, and as the last fringe of fire blazed along the stone wall, Pettigrew's division had faltered, and was now in retreat; Wilcox's command had not attacked in time; and Pickett's division remained alone "a solid lance-head of Virginia troops tempered in the fire of battle." It only remained to consult safety where a moment before it had won success, and to withdraw from what were now desperate straits, which might have been the breach of a decisive victory. As the shattered column of Pickett returned to its lines on Seminary Ridge, Gen. Lee saw that the day was lost.

He had watched the battle from a hill in rear of Gen. Hill's position; and when he witnessed the fatal recoil, he saw at once the necessity of providing against a counter-attack of the enemy, and

displaying, in these terrible moments, the confidence and self-possession by which alone he could now hope to save his army. Never was he more sublime, more forgetful of self, more perfect in temper, as in this one hour of great misfortune and terrible danger. Among the throng of disrupted troops he rode quite alone, calm in manner, kind in voice, comforting the wounded, and encouraging the officers dispirited by the reverse. He exclaimed, repeatedly, "It's all my fault!" His presence, his generous words, kindled a new inspiration; the disorder was quickly remedied; and as successive detachments were formed in the woods, they were quietly brought forward, and placed in positions to resist the attack which all considered imminent. The men were ordered to lie down in the woods, to await the attack. Presently a prolonged cheer arose from the Federal lines. It was thought to be the painful signal of another battle; but it proved to be only the greeting awarded Gen. Meade, as he rode along the lines, in full sense and satisfaction of the victory he had won.

The 4th of July, heretofore the most joyful and proudest of American anniversaries, was spent in burying the thousands of dead that strewed an arena of civil war, and cursed with fraternal slaughter what had once been a valley of beautiful and supreme peace. More than 16,000 killed and wounded Federals had fallen on that field. On the Confederate side, the casualties were scarcely less, while their loss in prisoners was considerably greater than that of the enemy. Gen. Lee, so far from being in a condition to renew the conflict, was at the extremity of fear for the safety of his army; his ammunition was nearly exhausted, and the Potomac was reported to be rising, from recent freshets, so as to cut off his chances of retreat. In the night of the 5th July, he commenced his fearful retreat, compelled to leave many of his wounded behind; and by daylight his rear column had left Gettysburg, without interruption from the enemy. On reaching the Potomac he found, as he had feared, his retreat barred by the rise of the river; and until the 12th July, his desperate army remained in line of battle at Williamsport. But the timidity of the enemy, which appeared to be consequent on all his victories, or rather that weak characteristic fear of a mediocre commander, which fears to spoil éclat already won, by the possibility of a reverse, and stops half-way in success, saved Gen. Lee from the fearful trial of another battle; and, eventually,

in face of the hesitating Federals, his pontoon bridges being completed, he crossed the river, was again in Virginia, and by leisurely movements succeeded in planting his suffering and diminished army on the banks of the Rapidan. His scheme of invasion had been baulked and brought to naught; he had sustained a severe defeat; but he had reason to congratulate himself that he had extricated his army, which the whole Northern public had waited to hear would be cut off by Meade, as the crowning prize of his campaign. "The fruit seemed so ripe, so ready for plucking," said President Lincoln, "that it was very hard to lose it."

CHAPTER IX.

Decline of the fortunes of the Confederacy.-Operations in the autumn of 1863.— Gen. Lee's patriotic exhortation to his troops.-His great care for them.-Meeting of the chaplains in his army.-Relations between General Lee and his troops.His habits on the battle-field.-Intercourse with his men.-Simplicity of his manners. His feelings towards the public enemy.-How he rebuked a Yankee-phobist.-Sufferings of the Confederate troops.-Commissary Northrop.-General Lee demands food for his troops.-Touching address to his half-starved men.—Anecdote of Gen. Lee and his cook.-Personal recollections of the great commander. -An English officer's description of his person and habits.

THE recoil at Gettysburg marked a period when the Southern fortunes commenced to decline, and on its disastrous field was buried much of the former prestige of the Army of Northern Virginia. But the army had saved itself and its honour, if it had not done all that popular admiration had predicted for it; and it obtained at least the advantage of several months' repose. It was not in motion again until October, and the remainder of the year was consumed by a campaign of manoeuvres, which, as it was generally without result, we need not give in detail here. An attempted flank march on Centreville, by which Gen. Lee aimed to get between Meade and Washington, was anticipated by the enemy, and proved a failure; and in the month of November the enemy appeared to make a retaliatory signal of attack, advancing, and crossing the Rapidan at several points. Gen. Lee, noticing the movement, issued the following general order, in which his patriotic exhortation and appeal to the army were expressed in words of more than usual urgency and power:

"The enemy is again advancing upon our capital, and the country once more looks to this army for its protection. Under the blessings of God, your valour has repelled every previous at tempt, and, invoking the continuance of His favour, we cheerfully commit to Him the issue of the coming contest.

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A cruel enemy seeks to reduce our fathers and our mothers, our wives and our children, to abject slavery; to strip them of