So much for this new "Siege of Carlisle." Here my description ends. It
was nothing--a mere picture. An hour afterward Stuart ceased firing,
the conflagration died down; back into the black night sank the fair
town of Carlisle, seen then for the first and the last time by this
historian.
The guns were silent, the cavalry retired; and Stuart, accompanied by
his staff, galloped back to a great deserted house where he established
his temporary head-quarters.
On the bold face there was an expression of decided ill-humor. He had
just received a dispatch, by courier, from General Lee.
That dispatch said, "Come, I need you urgently here," and the "here" in
question, was Gettysburg, at least twenty miles distant. Now, with
worn-out men and horses, twenty miles was a serious matter. Stuart's
brows were knit, and he mused gloomily.
Suddenly he turned and addressed me.
"You were right, Surry," he said, "those guns were at Gettysburg. This
dispatch, sent this morning, reports the enemy near there."
I bowed; Stuart reflected for some moments without speaking. Then he
suddenly said:--
"I wish you would go to General Lee, and say I am coming, Surry. How is
your horse?"
"Worn-out, general, but I can get another."
"Good; tell General Lee that I will move at once to Gettysburg, with
all my force, and as rapidly as possible!"
"I will lose no time, general.
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