CHAPTER XII
THE ZENITH OF THE SOUTH
The sun of the first day of July, which was to witness the beginningof the most tremendous event in the history of America, dawned hot andclouded with vapors. They hung in the valleys, over the steep stonyhills and along the long blue slopes of South Mountain. The mists madethe country look more fantastic to Harry, who was early in the saddle.The great uplifts and projections of stone assumed the shapes of castlesand pyramids and churches.
Over South Mountain, on the west, heavy black clouds floated, and theair was close and oppressive.
"Rain, do you think?" said Harry to Dalton.
"No, just a sultry day. Maybe a wind will spring up and drive awayall these clouds and vapors. At least, I hope so. There's the bugle.We're off on our shoe campaign."
"Who leads us?"
"We go with Pettigrew, and Heth comes behind. In a country so thickwith enemies it's best to move only in force."
The column took up its march and a cloud of dust followed it. Thesecond half of June had been rainy, but there had been several days ofdry weather now, allowing the dust to gather. Harry and Dalton soonbecame very hot and thirsty. The sun did not drive away the vapors assoon as they had expected, and the air grew heavier.
"I hope they'll have plenty of good drinking water in Gettysburg,"said Harry. "It will be nearly as welcome to me as shoes."
They rode on over hills and valleys, and brooks and creeks, the namesof none of which they knew. They stopped to drink at the streams, andthe thirsty horses drank also. But it remained hard for the infantry.They were trained campaigners, however, and they did not complain asthey toiled forward through the heat and dust.
They came presently to round hillocks, over which they passed, then theysaw a fertile valley, watered by a creek, and beyond that the roofs of atown with orchards behind it.
"Gettysburg!" said Dalton.
"It must be the place," said Harry. "Picturesque, isn't it? Look atthose two hills across there, rising so steeply."
One of the hills, the one that lay farther to the south, a mass ofapparently inaccessible rocks, rose more than two hundred feet above thetown. The other, about a third of a mile from the first, was only halfits height. They were Round Top and Little Round Top. In the mists andvapors and at the distance the two hills looked like ancient towers.Harry and George gazed at them, and then their eyes turned to the town.
It was a neat little place, with many roads radiating from it as if itwere the hub of a wheel, and the thrifty farmers of that region had madeit a center for their schools.
Harry had learned from Jackson, and again from Lee, always to notewell the ground wherever he might ride. Such knowledge in battle wasinvaluable, and his eyes dwelled long on Gettysburg.
He saw running south of the town a long high ridge, curving at the eastand crowned with a cemetery, because of which the people of Gettysburgcalled it Cemetery Ridge or Hill. Opposed to it, some distance away andrunning westward, was another but lower ridge that they called SeminaryRidge. Beyond Seminary Ridge were other and yet lower ridges, betweentwo of which flowed a brook called Willoughby Run. Beyond them all,two or three miles away and hemming in the valley, stretched SouthMountain, the crests of which were still clothed in the mists and vaporsof a sultry day. Near the town was a great field of ripening wheat,golden when the sun shone. Not far from the horsemen was another littlestream called Plum Run. They also saw an unfinished railroad track,with a turnpike running beside it, the roof and cupola of a seminary,and beside the little marshy stream of Plum Run a mass of jagged,uplifted rocks, commonly called the Devil's Den.
Harry knew none of these names yet, but he was destined to learn themin such a manner that he could never forget them again. Now he merelyadmired the peaceful and picturesque appearance of the town, set sosnugly among its hills.
"That's Gettysburg, which for us just at this moment is the shoemetropolis of the world," said Dalton, "but I dare say we'll not bewelcomed as purchasers or in any other capacity."
"You take a safe risk, George," said Harry. "Tales that we are terriblepersons, who rejoice most in arson and murder, evidently have beenspread pretty thoroughly through this region."
"Both sections scatter such stories. I suppose it's done in every war.It's only human nature."
"All right, Mr. Pedantic Philosopher. Maybe you're telling the truth.But look, I don't think we're going into Gettysburg in such a greathurry! Yankee soldiers are there before us!"
Other Southern officers had noted the blue uniforms and the flash ofrifle barrels and bayonets in Gettysburg. As they used their glasses,the town came much nearer and the Union forces around it increased.Buford, coming up the night before, had surmised that a Southern forcewould advance on Gettysburg, and he had chosen the place for a battle.He had with him four thousand two hundred mounted men, and he postedthem in the strong positions that were so numerous. He had waited thereall night, and already his scouts had informed him that Pettigrew andHeth were advancing.
"Are we to lose our shoes?" whispered Harry.
"I don't think so," replied Dalton in an undertone. "We're in strongforce, and I don't see any signs that our generals intend to turn back.Harry, your glasses are much stronger than mine. What do you see?"
"I see a lot. The Yankees must be four or five thousand, and they areposted strongly. They are thick in the railroad cut and hundreds ofhorses are held by men in the rear. It must be almost wholly a cavalryforce."
"Do you see any people in the town?"
"There is not a soul in the streets, and as far as I can make out allthe doors are closed and the windows shuttered."
"Then it's a heavy force waiting for us. The people know it, andexpecting a battle, they have gone away."
"Your reasoning is good, and there's the bugle to confirm it. Our linesare already advancing!"
It was still early in the morning, and the strong Southern force whichhad come for shoes, but which found rifles and bayonets awaiting theminstead, advanced boldly. They, the victors of Fredericksburg andChancellorsville, had no thought of retreating before a foe who invitedthem to combat.
Harry and Dalton found their hearts beating hard at this their firstbattle on Northern soil, and Harry's eyes once more swept the greatpanorama of the valley, the silent town, the lofty stone hills, and farbeyond the long blue wall of South Mountain, with the mists and vaporsstill floating about its crest.
Heth was up now, and he took full command, sending two brigades inadvance, the brigades themselves preceded by a great swarm ofskirmishers. Harry and Dalton rode with one of the brigades, and theyclosely followed those who went down the right bank of the stream calledWilloughby Run, opening a rapid fire as they advanced upon a vigilantenemy who had been posted the night before in protected positions.
Buford's men met the attack with courage and vigor. Four thousanddismounted cavalry, all armed with carbines, sent tremendous volleysfrom the shelter of ridges and earthworks. The fire was so heavy thatthe Southern skirmishers could not stand before it, and they, too,began to seek shelter. The whole Southern column halted for a fewminutes, but recovered itself and advanced again.
The battle blazed up with a suddenness and violence that astonishedHarry. The air was filled in an instant with the whistling of shellsand bullets. He heard many cries. Men were falling all around him,but so far he and Dalton were untouched. Heth, Davis, Archer and theothers were pushing on their troops, shouting encouragement to them,and occasionally, through the clouds of smoke, which were thickeningfast, Harry saw the tanned faces of their enemies loading and firingas fast as they could handle rifle and cannon. The Northern men hadshelter, but were fewer in number. The soldiers in gray were sufferingthe heavier losses, but they continued to advance.
The battle swelled in volume and fierceness along the banks ofWilloughby Run. There was a continuous roar of rifles and cannon,and the still, heavy air of the morning conducted the sound to thedivisions
that were coming up and to the trembling inhabitants of thelittle town who had fled for refuge to the farmhouses in the valley.
Harry and George had still managed to keep close together. Both hadbeen grazed by bullets, but these were only trifles. They saw that thedivision was not making much progress. The men in blue were holdingtheir ground with extraordinary stubbornness. Although the Southernfire, coming closer, had grown much more deadly, they refused to yield.
Buford, who had chosen that battlefield and who was the first to commandupon it, would not let his men give way. His great hour had come,and he may have known it. Watching through his glasses he had seen longlines of Southern troops upon the hills, marching toward Gettysburg.He knew that they were the corps of Hill, drawn by the thunder of thebattle, and he felt that if he could hold his ground yet a while longerhelp for him too would come, drawn in the same manner.
Harry once caught sight of this officer, a native of Kentucky likehimself. He was covered with dust and perspiration, but he ran up anddown, encouraging his men and often aiming the cannon himself. It wasgood fortune for the North that he was there that day. The Southerngenerals, uncertain whether to push the battle hard or wait for Lee,recoiled a little before his tremendous resistance.
But the South hesitated only for a moment. Hill, pale from an illness,but always full of fire and resolution, was hurrying forward his massivecolumns, their eagerness growing as the sound of the battle swelled.They would overwhelm the Union force, sweep it away.
Yet the time gained by Buford had a value beyond all measurements.The crash of the battle had been heard by Union troops, too, andReynolds, one of the ablest Union generals, was leading a great columnat the utmost speed to the relief of the general who had held his groundso well. A signalman stationed in the belfry of the seminary reportedto Buford the advance of Reynolds, and the officer, eager to verify it,rushed up into the belfry.
Then Buford saw the columns coming forward at the double quick, Reynoldsin his eagerness galloping at their head, and leaving them behind.He looked in the other direction and he saw the men of Hill advancingwith equal speed. He saw on one road the Stars and Stripes and onthe other the Stars and Bars. He rushed back down the steps and metReynolds.
"The devil is to pay!" he cried to Reynolds.
"How do we stand?"
"We can hold on until the arrival of the First Corps."
Buford sprang on his horse, and the two generals, reckless of death,galloped among the men, encouraging the faint-hearted, reforming thelines, and crying to them to hold fast, that the whole Army of thePotomac was coming.
Harry felt the hardening of resistance. The smoke was so dense that hecould not see for a while the fresh troops coming to the help of Buford,but he knew nevertheless that they were there. Then he heard a greatshouting behind him, as Hill's men, coming upon the field, rushed intoaction. But Jackson, the great Jackson whom he had followed through allhis victories, the man who saw and understood everything, was not there!
The genius of battle was for the moment on the other side. Reynolds,so ably pushing the work that Buford had done, was seizing the bestpositions for his men. He was acting with rapidity and precision,and the troops under him felt that a great commander was showing themthe way. His vigor secured the slopes and crest of Cemetery Hill,but the Southern masses nevertheless were pouring forward in full tide.
The combat had now lasted about two hours, and, a stray gust of windlifting the smoke a little, Harry caught a glimpse of a vast blazingamphitheater of battle. He had regarded it at first as an affair ofvanguards, but now he realized suddenly that this was the great battlethey had been expecting. Within this valley and on these ridges andhills it would be fought, and even as the thought came to him theconflict seemed to redouble in fury and violence, as fresh brigadesrushed into the thick of it.
Harry's horse was killed by a shell as he rode toward a wood on theCashtown road, which both sides were making a desperate effort tosecure. Fortunately he was able to leap clear and escape unhurt.In a few moments Dalton was dismounted in almost the same manner,but the two on foot kept at the head of the column and rushed withthe skirmishers into the bushes. There they knelt, and began to firerapidly on the Union men who were advancing to drive them out.
Harry saw an officer in a general's uniform leading the charge. Thebullets of the skirmishers rained upon the advance. One struck thisgeneral in the head, when he was within twenty yards of the riflemen,and he fell stone dead. It was the gallant and humane Reynolds, fallingin the hour of his greatest service. But his troops, wild with ardorand excitement, not noticing his death, still rushed upon the wood.
The charge came with such violence and in such numbers that the Southernskirmishers and infantry in the wood were overpowered. They were drivenin a mass across Willoughby Run. A thousand, General Archer among them,were taken prisoners.
Harry and Dalton barely escaped, and in all the tumult and fury of thefighting they found themselves with another division of the Southernarmy which was resisting a charge made with the same energy and couragethat marked the one led by Reynolds. But the charge was beaten back,and the Southerners, following, were repulsed in their turn.
The battle, which had been raging for three hours with the mostextraordinary fury, sank a little. Harry and Dalton could make nothingof it. Everything seemed wild, confused, without precision or purpose,but the fighting had been hard and the losses great.
Heth now commanded on the field for the South and Doubleday for theNorth. Each general began to rectify his lines and try to see what hadhappened. The Confederate batteries opened, but did not do much damage,and while the lull continued, more men came for the North.
Harry and Dalton had found their way to Heth, who told them to staywith him until Lee came. Heth was making ready to charge a brigade ofstalwart Pennsylvania lumbermen, who, however, managed to hold theirposition, although they were nearly cut to pieces. Hill now passedalong the Southern line, and like the other Southern leaders, uncertainwhat to do in this battle brought on so strangely and suddenly, ceasedto push the Union lines with infantry, but opened a tremendous fire fromeighty guns. The whole valley echoed with the crash of the cannon,and the vast clouds of smoke began to gather again. The Union forcessuffered heavy losses, but still held their ground.
Harry thought, while this comparative lull in close fighting was goingon, that Dalton and he should get back to General Lee with news of whatwas occurring, although he had no doubt the commander-in-chief was nowadvancing as fast as he could with the full strength of the army. Still,duty was duty. They had been sent forward that they might carry backreports, and they must carry them.
"It's time for us to go," he said to Dalton.
"I was just about to say that myself."
"We can safely report to the general that the vanguards have met atGettysburg and that there are signs of a battle."
Dalton took a long, comprehensive look over the valley in which thirtyor forty thousand men were merely drawing a fresh breath before plunginganew into the struggle, and said:
"Yes, Harry, all the signs do point that way. I think we can be sure ofour news."
They had not been able to catch any of the riderless horses gallopingabout the field, and they started on foot, taking the road which theyknew would lead them to Lee. They emerged from some bushes in whichthey had been lying for shelter, and two or three bullets whistledbetween them. Others knocked up the dust in the path and a shellshrieked a terrible warning over their heads. They dived back into thebushes.
"Didn't you see that sign out there in the road?" asked Harry.
"Sign! Sign! I saw no sign," said Dalton.
"I did. It was a big sign, and it read, in big letters:'No Thoroughfare.'"
"You must be right. I suppose I didn't notice it, because I came backin such a hurry."
They had become so hardened to the dangers of war that, like thousandsof others, they could jest in the face of death.
"We must make another try for it," said Dalton. "We've got to crossthat road. I imagine our greatest danger is from sharpshooters at thehead of it."
"Stoop low and make a dash. Here goes!"
Bent almost double, they made a hop, skip and jump and were in thebushes on the other side, where they lay still for a few moments,panting, while the hair on their heads, which had risen up, lay downagain. Quick as had been their passage, fully a dozen ferocious bulletswhined over their heads.
"I hate skirmishers," said Harry. "It's one thing to fire at the massof the enemy, and it's another to pick out a man and draw a bead on him."
"I hate 'em, too, especially when they're firing at me!" said Dalton."But, Harry, we're doing no good lying here in the bushes, trying topress ourselves into the earth so the bullets will pass over our heads.Heavens! What was that?"
"Only the biggest shell that was ever made bursting near us. You knowthose Yankee artillerymen were always good, but I think they've improvedsince they first saw us trying to cross the road."
"To think of an entire army turning away from its business to shoot attwo fellows like ourselves, who ask nothing but to get away!"
"And it's time we were going. The bushes rise over our heads here.We must make another dash."
They rose and ran on, but to their alarm the bushes soon ended and theyemerged into a field. Here they came directly into the line of fireagain, and the bullets sang and whistled around them. Once more theyread in invisible but significant letters the sign, "No Thoroughfare,"and darted back into the wood from which they had just come, whileshells, not aimed at them, but at the armies, shrieked over their heads.
"It's not the plan of fate that we should reach General Lee just yet,"said Harry.
"The shells and bullets say it isn't. What do you think we ought to do?"
Harry rose up cautiously and began to survey their position. Then heuttered a cry of joy.
"More of our men are coming," he exclaimed, "and they are coming inheavy columns! I see their gray jackets and their tanned faces, andthere, too, are the Invincibles. Look, you can see the two colonels,riding side by side, and just behind them are St. Clair and Langdon!"
Dalton's eyes followed Harry's pointing finger, and he saw. It was ajoyous sight, the masses of their own infantry coming down the road inperfect order, and their own personal friends not two hundred yardsaway. But the Northern artillerymen had seen them too, and they beganto send up the road a heavy fire which made many fall. Ewell's men cameon, unflinching, until they unlimbered their own guns and began to replywith fierce and rapid volleys.
The two youths sprang from the brush and rushed directly into the grayranks of the Invincibles before they could be fired upon by mistakeas enemies. The two colonels had dismounted, but they recognized thefugitives instantly and welcomed them.
"Why this hurry, Lieutenant Kenton?" said Colonel Talbot politely.
"We were trying to reach General Lee, and not being able to do so,we are anxious to greet friends."
"So it would seem. I do not recall another such swift and warmgreeting."
"But we're glad, Leonidas, that they've found refuge with us," saidLieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire.
"So we are, Hector. Down there, lads, for your lives!"
The colonel had seen a movement in the hostile artillery, and at hissharp command all of the Invincibles and the two lads threw themselveson their faces, not a moment too soon, as a hideous mass of grape andcanister flew over their heads. The Invincibles, rising to their feet,sent a return volley from their rifles, and then, at the command of ageneral, fell back behind their own cannon.
The Northern artillery in front was shifted, evidently to protect someweaker position of their line, but the Southern troops in the road didnot advance farther at present, awaiting the report of scouts who werequickly sent ahead.
"You're welcome to our command," said Langdon, "but I notice that youcome on foot and in a hurry. We're glad to protect officers on thestaff of the commander-in-chief, whenever they appeal to us."
"Even when they come running like scared colts," said St. Clair."Why, Happy, I saw both of 'em jump clean over bushes ten feet high."
"You'd have jumped over trees a hundred feet high if a hundred thousandYankees were shooting at you as they were shooting at us," rejoinedHarry.
"What place is this in the valley, Harry?" asked Colonel Talbot.
"It's called Gettysburg, sir. We heard that it was full of shoes.We went there this morning to get em, but we found instead that it wasfull of Yankees."
"And they know how to shoot, too," said Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire."We heard all the thunder of a great battle as we came up."
"You haven't come too soon, sir," said Dalton. "The Yankees arefighting like fiends, and we've made very little headway against 'em.Besides, sir, fresh men are continually coming up for 'em."
"And fresh men have now come for our side, too," said Colonel LeonidasTalbot proudly. "I fancy that a division of Jackson's old corps willhave a good deal to say about the result."
"What part of the corps, sir, is this?" asked Harry.
"Rodes' division. General Ewell himself has not yet arrived, but youmay be sure he is making the utmost haste with the rest of the division."
Rodes, full of eagerness, now pushed his troops forward. Hill, who sawhis coming with unmeasured joy, shifted his men until they were fully intouch with those of Rodes, the whole now forming a great curving line ofbattle frowning with guns, the troops burning for a new attack.
Harry looked up at the sun, which long ago had pierced the mists andvapors, but not the smoke. He saw to his surprise that it had reachedand passed the zenith. It must now be at least two o'clock in theafternoon. He was about to look at his watch when the Southern trumpetsat that moment sounded the charge, and, knowing no other way to go,he and Dalton fell in with the Invincibles.
Howard was in command of the Northern army at this time, and from a roofof a house in Gettysburg he had been watching the Southern advance.He and Doubleday gathered all their strength to meet it, and, despitethe new troops brought by Rodes, Hill was unable to drive them back.Harry felt, as he had felt all along, that marked hardening of theNorthern resistance.
The battle wavered. Sometimes the North was driven back and sometimesit was the South, until Hill at last, massing a great number of men onhis left, charged with renewed courage and vigor. The Union men couldnot withstand their weight, and their flank was rolled up. Then Gordonand his Georgians marched into the willows that lined Rock Creek,forded the stream and entered the field of wheat beyond.
Harry saw this famous charge, and during a pause of the Invincibles hewatched it. The Georgians, although the cannon and rifles were nowturned upon them, marched in perfect order, trampling down the yellowwheat which stood thick and tall before them. The sun glittered ontheir long lines of bayonets. Many men fell, but the ranks closedup and marched unflinchingly on. Then, as they came near their foe,they fired their own rifles and rushed forward.
The men in blue were taken in the flank at the same time by Jubal Early,and two more brigades also rushed upon them. It was the same Unioncorps, the Eleventh, that had suffered so terribly at Chancellorsvilleunder the hammer strokes of Jackson, and now it was routed again.It practically dissolved for the time under the overwhelming rush onfront and flank and became a mass of fugitives.
Harry heard for the first time that day the long, thrilling rebel yellof triumph, and both Howard and Doubleday, watching the battle intently,had become alarmed for their force. Howard was already sending messagesto Meade, telling him that the great battle had begun and begging himto hurry with the whole army. Doubleday, seeing one flank crushed, wasendeavoring to draw back the other, lest it be destroyed in its turn.
Harry and Dalton and all the Invincibles felt the thrill of triumphshooting through them. They were advancing at last, making the firstreal progress of the day.
Harry felt that the days of
Jackson had come back. This was the wayin which they had always driven the foe. Ewell himself was now uponthe field. The loss of a leg had not diminished his ardor a whit.Everywhere his troops were driving the enemy before them, increasing thedismay which now prevailed in the ranks of men who had fought so well.
Harry began to shout with the rest, as the Southern torrent,irresistible now, flowed toward Gettysburg, while Ewell and Hill ledtheir men. The town was filled with the retreating Union troops and thecannon and rifles thundered incessantly in the rear, driving them on.The whole Southern curve was triumphant. Ewell's men entered the townafter the fugitives, driving all before them, and leaving Gettysburgin Southern hands.
But the Northern army was not a mob. The men recovered their spirit andreformed rapidly. Many brave and gallant officers encouraged them anda reserve had already thrown up strong entrenchments beyond the town onCemetery Hill, to which they retreated and once more faced their enemy.
Harry and Dalton stopped at Gettysburg, seeing the battle of thevanguards won, and turned back. Their place was with the general to thestaff of whom they belonged, and they believed they would not have tolook far. With a battle that had lasted eight hours Lee would surelybe upon the field by this time, or very near it.
There were plenty of riderless horses, and capturing two, one of whichhad belonged to a Union officer, they went back in search of theircommander. It was a terrible field over which they passed, strewed withhuman wreckage, smoke and dust still floated over everything. Theyinquired as they advanced of officers who were just arriving upon thefield, and one of them, pointing, said:
"There is General Lee."
Harry and Dalton saw him sitting on his horse on Seminary Ridge, hisfigure immovable, his eyes watching the Union brigades as they retreatedup the slopes of the opposite hill. It was about four o'clock in theafternoon and the sunlight was brilliant. The commander and his horsestood out like a statue on the hill, magnified in the blazing beams.
Harry and his comrade paused to look at him a few moments. Theirspirits had risen when they saw him. They felt that since Lee had comeall things were possible and when the whole of the two armies met inbattle the victory would surely be theirs.
The two rode quietly into the group of staff officers gathered at alittle distance behind Lee. They knew that it was not necessary nowto make any report or explanation. Events reported for themselves andexplained everything also. Their comrades greeted them with nods,but Harry never ceased to watch Lee.
The commander-in-chief in his turn was gazing at the panorama of battle,spread almost at his feet. Although the combat was dying, enough wasleft to give it a terrible aspect. The strife still went on in a partof Gettysburg and cannon were thudding and rifles cracking. The flamesfrom houses set on fire by the shells streamed aloft like vast torches.Horses that had lost their riders galloped aimlessly, wild with terror.
While he looked, General Hill rode up and joined them. Hill had beenill that day. His face was deadly in its pallor, and he swayed in hissaddle from weakness. But his spirit and courage were high. Harry sawthe two generals talking together, and again he glanced at the valley.After long and desperate fighting the Southern victory had beencomplete. Any young lieutenant could see that. The whole Northernforce was now being driven in great disorder upon Cemetery Hill, and aman like Jackson, without going to see Lee, would have hurled his wholeforce instantly upon those flying masses. Some one had called Ewell andHill, brave and able as they were, small change for Jackson, and thephrase often came to Harry's mind. Still, it was not possible to findany man or any two men who could fill the place of the great Stonewall.
The day was far from over. At least three hours of sunlight were left.More Southern troops had come up, and Harry expected to see Lee launchhis superior numbers against the defeated enemy. But he did not.There was some pursuit, but it was not pressed with vigor, and thevictors stopped. Contradictory orders were given, it was claimed later,by the generals, but Lee, with the grandeur of soul that places him sohigh among the immortals, said afterward:
"The attack was not pressed that afternoon, because the enemy's forcewas unknown, and it was considered advisable to await the rest of ourtroops."
When failure occurred he never blamed anyone but himself. Yet Harryalways thought that his genius paled a little that afternoon. He didnot show the amazing vigor and penetration that were associated with thename of Lee both before and afterwards. Perhaps it was an excess ofcaution, due to his isolated position in the enemy's country, andperhaps it was the loss of Jackson. Whatever it was, the precious hourspassed, the enemy, small in numbers, was not driven from his refuge onCemetery Hill, and the battle died.
The Southern leaders themselves did not know the smallness of theNorthern force that had taken shelter on the hill. That hardening ofthe resistance which Harry had felt more than once had been exemplifiedto the full that deadly morning. Buford and Reynolds had shown thepenetration and resolution of Jackson himself, and their troops hadsupported them with a courage and tenacity never surpassed in battle.Only sixteen or seventeen thousand in number, they had left ten thousandkilled and wounded around the town, but with only one-third of theirnumbers unhurt they rallied anew on Cemetery Hill and once more turneddefiant faces toward the enemy.
Hancock, whose greatest day also was at hand, had arrived, sent forwardin haste by Meade. Unsurpassed as a corps commander, and seeing theadvantage of the position, he went among the beaten but willing remnants,telling them to hold on, as Meade and the whole Army of the Potomac werecoming at full speed, and would be there to meet Lee and the South inthe morning.
Both commanding generals felt that the great battle was to be fought toa finish there. Meade had not yet arrived, but he was hurrying forwardall the divisions, ready to concentrate them upon Cemetery Hill.Lee also was bringing up all his troops, save the cavalry of Stuart,now riding on the raid around the Northern army, and absent when theywere needed most.
Harry did not know for many days that this fierce first day and thegathering of the foes on Gettysburg was wholly unknown to both North andSouth. The two armies had passed out of sight under the horizon's rim,and the greatest battle of the war was to be fought unknown, until itsclose, to the rival sections.
Harry and Dalton, keeping close together, because they were comrades andbecause they felt the need of companionship, watched from their own hillthe town and the hill beyond. Harry felt no joy. The victory was notyet to him a victory. He knew that the field below, terrible to thesight, was destined to become far more terrible, and the coming twilightwas full of omens and presages.
The sun sank at last upon the scene of human strife and suffering,but night brought with it little rest, because all through the darknessthe brigades and regiments were marching toward the fatal field.