I think the
great commander shared in some measure the sentiment of his troops. His
bearing was collected; in his eye you could read no trace of
excitement; the lips covered by the gray mustache were firm and
composed; and he greeted me with quiet courtesy:--but in the cheeks of
the great soldier a ruddy glow seemed to betray anticipated victory.
I confess I shared the general sentiment. That strange intoxication was
contagious, and I was drunk like the rest with the thought of triumph.
That triumph would open to us the gates of Washington and bring peace.
The North scarcely denied that then--though they may deny it to-day.
The whole country was completely weary of the war. There seemed to be
no hope of compelling the South to return to the Union. A victory over
Meade, opening the whole North to Lee, promised a treaty of peace. The
day had arrived, apparently when the army of Northern Virginia, musket
in hand, was about to dictate the terms of that document.
"Lee has only to slip the leash," I thought, as I gazed at the army,
"and these war-dogs will tear down their prey!"
Alas! they tore it, but were torn too! they did all at Gettysburg that
any troops could do.
What was impossible, was beyond even their strength.
CHAPTER XXV.
THE WRESTLE FOR ROUND TOP HILL.
Pages:
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111