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Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"A Story of the Nation's Crisis"


The scene in the darkness with the awful battlefield around them was one
which not even the greatest of painters could have reproduced. When the
last general had told his tale of slaughter and destruction, they sat for
a while in silence. They realized the smallness of their army, and the
immense extent of their losses. The light wind that had sprung up swept
over the dead faces of thousands of the bravest men in the Southern army.
They had held their ground, but on the morrow McClellan could bring into
line three to one and an artillery far superior alike in quality, weight
and numbers to theirs.
The strange, intense silence lasted. Every eye was upon Lee. When the
generals were making their reports he had shown more emotion than they
had ever seen on his face before. Now he was quiet, but he drew his lips
close together, his eyes shone with blue fire, and rising in his stirrups
he said:
"We will not cross the Potomac to-night, gentlemen."
Then while they still waited in silence, he said:
"Go to your commands! Reform and strengthen your lines.


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