He
looked at the pale face of the boy, over which the disordered curls
fell, with a glance of inexpressible sympathy and sweetness. Then
stretching out his hand, he pressed the hand of General Davenant, and
said in his deep grave voice:--
"This has been a sad day for us, general--a sad day, but we cannot
expect always to gain victories. Never mind--all this has been _my_
fault. It is _I_ who have lost this fight, and you must help me out of
it in the best way you can."[1]
[Footnote 1: His words.]
As he uttered these measured words, General Lee saluted and disappeared
in the smoke.
General Davenant followed, bearing the wounded boy still upon his
saddle.
Ten minutes afterward, I was riding to find General Stuart, who had
sent me with a message just before the charge.
I had gloomy news for him. The battle of Gettysburg was lost.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
UNSHAKEN.
The sun was sinking red and baleful, when I reached Stuart, beyond the
left wing of the army.
From the afternoon of the second to this night of the third of July,
the cavalry had met that of the enemy in stubborn conflict. The columns
had hurled together. General Hampton had been severely wounded in a
hand-to-hand encounter with sabres, while leading his men. Stuart had
narrowly escaped death or capture in the melee; and Fitz Lee had fought
hilt to hilt with the Federal horsemen, repulsing them, and coming back
laughing, as was his wont.
Pages:
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126